Kyra found herself speechless.
The fact that the Crown Prince mentioned a specific timeline—one year—meant he must have overheard her conversation with Britia right before the wedding.
Either that, or someone had eavesdropped and tattled on her!
She had been bold enough to share her plans openly with Britia, but now, faced with the person directly involved, she couldn’t muster that same confidence.
Even though he wore a smile, his eyes were full of disappointment.
“It was just a joke. No need to look so serious.”
The Crown Prince leaned back, closing his eyes as if at ease. At least, that’s how he appeared on the surface. Inside, he was boiling with anger.
To think he’d hear about divorce on his wedding day of all days.
Lately, he had been finding himself understanding the Emperor’s once-incomprehensible feelings more and more.
‘Now I get just how cruel Mother’s words were.’
It pained him to realize he was following in his father’s footsteps.
“But if revenge is what you’re after, wouldn’t it be better to do it as the Crown Princess, or even as the Empress?”
“If you wanted, I could even help you with that.”
“No, I don’t want it to go that far,” Kyra quickly declined.
The Crown Prince raised his eyebrows in surprise. He turned his body toward her, leaning in closer.
“You always reject me.”
He propped his elbows on the table, resting his chin in his hand, forcing her to look down at him.
“I’m not like the Emperor, going around saying I hate everything. I’ve tried to be good to you in my own way. So why do you keep pushing me away?”
“…”
“Do you really hate me that much? So much that you wouldn’t even accept my help?”
Kyra silently studied the Crown Prince’s frustrated face. He always wore a calm expression, as if nothing could shake him, his only interest seemingly art. But now, he was clearly anxious.
Ever since he had found out that she wasn’t planning to give him a sweater as a gift, he had been acting like this. It could’ve been annoying, but she didn’t mind as much as she expected. In fact, seeing him fret over whether she disliked him wasn’t as bad as she thought.
‘We’ll have to stay married for at least a year, so it’s better if he keeps liking me. No need for fights.’
“…No, it’s not like that.”
The Crown Prince frowned slightly.
“Every time I get close, you seem to reject me with your whole body. Though, I guess you’re not doing that now.”
“That’s because you’re sitting down right now. Back then, I believe you were standing.”
Come to think of it, she was probably right. But the Crown Prince couldn’t understand why it mattered. What difference did it make whether he was standing or sitting?
“If we’re being specific, the thing I dislike is…”
“What is it you dislike?”
“Your height, Your Highness.”
Kyra glanced at him, gauging his reaction. The disbelief on his face was clear.
“Well, that’s unfortunate. I can’t exactly chop off my legs to make myself shorter.”
“If you’re sitting, it’s not too bad.”
‘Not too bad.’
The Crown Prince let out a bitter smile as he muttered those words. Kyra realized she might have misspoken. She could see his mood souring even further.
“I didn’t mean it like that. It’s not that I dislike it. I just get nervous around tall men.”
But her words didn’t seem to soften the stern look in the Crown Prince’s eyes.
“So that’s why you want me lying down? You don’t like me standing, sitting is tolerable, but you’d prefer me lying down? I can only hope I’m more to your taste when I’m flat on my back.”
Kyra blinked in shock at his words, and suddenly her face flushed bright red.
No, at that time, she truly felt as if she had no tomorrow, so there had been no other option. She had simply thrown herself into survival without thinking about anything else.
Though she tried to convince herself that her desperate actions had been necessary, Kyra felt her cheeks growing hotter. It was startling to realize something about her own preferences that she hadn’t been aware of before.
She hoped the Crown Prince wouldn’t notice her emotional turmoil, but his lips curled into a knowing smirk.
“If that was your preference, you should have just said so.”
He lowered his arms and rested his head lightly on the table, looking up at Kyra.
“That’s not it.”
“Does it mean you want to be the one to lay me down?”
Kyra desperately shook her head, but the Crown Prince nodded knowingly.
“If you’ve seduced me like that, then you should be responsible. Is that why you’re thinking of divorce?”
He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his once-sharp gaze now softened.
Kyra quickly averted her eyes, unable to meet his gaze. It was strangely embarrassing, and for some reason, she didn’t want to admit that embarrassment due to her pride.
“If we’re being honest, it’s you who should take responsibility. You were the one who reached out first.”
She said this in her mind, knowing it was better to maintain a good relationship with him to take revenge on her father. It wasn’t because she actually cared for him.
But even as she thought that, her heart raced in a way that made it hard to calm down.
“Then let’s do this. I’ll take responsibility for you, but you need to ease my feelings a bit.”
The Crown Prince gently brushed her cheek with his fingers, grinning at her.
“What do you want?”
“I heard your mother has taken up knitting again, and this time she’s making gloves.”
Was he suggesting she should bring gloves instead of a sweater? That seemed reasonable enough. Kyra nodded in understanding, and the Crown Prince placed his hand over hers.
When Kyra unconsciously glanced at their hands, their eyes met. She quickly turned away, trying to act like it didn’t matter, but the Crown Prince leaned in closer.
“I hope they’re gloves that I can wear.”
As his soft lips brushed against her forehead, Kyra froze without realizing it.
“Don’t get your hopes up.”
After freezing her in place, the Crown Prince shrugged off the moment and stood up, leaving her behind.
‘Did he change his mind about something after getting married?’
Kyra felt her flushed cheeks refusing to cool down, and she felt as if she might explode.
What if, just like he said, she ended up giving up on divorce and became a love-struck Empress for that strange Emperor?
She kept her head lowered, repeatedly muttering that couldn’t happen.
“Your Highness.”
As she took a deep breath to calm herself, someone called out to her. It was a familiar voice, but it wasn’t someone she liked, causing her expression to sharpen.
It was her younger sister, Ashley.
“What is it? If you just want to congratulate me on my marriage, then go ahead and leave.”
She wanted to chase Ashley away, knowing she had no real congratulations to offer.
“I have a request, Your Highness.”
Ashley’s formal tone made Kyra’s eyebrows twitch.
“Why should I grant your request?”
Kyra retorted sarcastically, and Ashley swallowed hard. Although her face was tense, her eyes remained determined and clear.
“Please help me take our family back from Father.”
It wasn’t a request to inherit; it was a declaration that she wanted to take it away from their father, and that resonated with Kyra. But that was all. Why should she help her?
“You wanted the Crown Prince’s attention, and now you’re after the family too?”
“If you help me, I will pledge my loyalty to you.”
The word “loyalty” struck Kyra as absurd. She recalled how Ashley had acted until now. That cunning girl had been willing to sacrifice Kyra to gain the trust of Rutherford.
“You can test me if you want.”
“What do you mean by that? Are you suggesting I bark like a dog here on command?”
With a dismissive wave of her hand, Kyra urged Ashley to go ahead, and Ashley took a deep breath. Then, to everyone’s surprise, she suddenly barked loudly.
“Enough! Stop!”
Kyra shouted in shock at the sound of Ashley barking like a dog. Immediately, Ashley ceased her performance. All eyes in the room turned toward them.
“What should we do next?” Ashley asked, her face flushed with embarrassment despite the ridiculousness of the situation.
“I knew you were clever, but you’re more intense than I expected.”
Kyra laughed, incredulous at Ashley’s unwavering gaze.
—
The high priest, who had officiated their wedding, quietly approached Britia, who was alone.
“You must have had a hard time lately.”
Britia jumped at the sudden voice behind her.
“High Priest.”
Recognizing him, Britia was taken aback. She knew he was the high priest, but this was the first time they had spoken like this.
Moreover, his comment confused her. What had been difficult? Was he referring to the trials she faced?
“Have you been feeling unwell?”
Britia’s eyes widened in surprise.
“I did have fevers when I was young. But how did you know…?”
“Excessive power can be overwhelming for the body.”
Excessive power?
Though she wasn’t sure if it was appropriate for her to comment, she wondered if her tail had led him to say that.
People simply looked a bit cute and fluffy to her, nothing more.
She questioned whether they were even discussing her tail at all.
“If you’ve heard rumors about seeing dead souls, that’s a misunderstanding.”
The high priest smiled brightly at her denial.
Why was he smiling?
Britia’s mind filled with even more questions.
“Actually, there’s something I must discreetly tell you when Duke Turas isn’t around.”
His serious tone made Britia tense up.
“The Duke’s left eye was injured by a dark spirit. Although we managed to exorcise that spirit, it’s not something to be taken lightly.”
Britia was shocked to hear that Sig had been afflicted by a dark spirit. She knew he had fought it and sustained an injury, but this was new information.
“We created a special eye patch for him. But I see he’s wearing a different one now.”
Seeing the high priest’s worried expression made Britia’s head spin. What was this other eye patch he was wearing?
‘That’s the one I made!’
Sig had asked her to create it!
“Is something wrong if he’s wearing that other eye patch? Could something happen to him?”
Britia asked, stammering from her fear.
“The dark spirit could potentially return through the injury.”
Britia’s mouth dropped open in shock.
“He’s in danger right now. I asked him to use the eye patch we gave him, but he refused to listen.”
Though she had given him a temporary solution with a brooch, it wasn’t enough for safety. The critical issue was covering the wound inflicted by the dark spirit, the high priest emphasized.
After parting ways with him, Britia felt her anger surge as she searched for Sig.
If he had such an important role, then why did he ask me to make him an eye patch?
Her frustrated gaze easily found Sig’s large, dark figure.
“Sig!”
Britia’s voice, full of pent-up frustration, startled everyone around her.
Sig was equally taken aback. He immediately sensed that something was wrong from Britia’s tone.
What did I do wrong?
Sig had no idea. Not knowing what was happening, he glanced at the vice-captain for help, but the vice-captain simply smiled and took a step back.
“Are you trying to run away…?”
Just as he was about to grab Sig, a chill ran down his spine, and he fell silent. He could feel the oppressive aura emanating from Britia, who stood behind him.
What did I do wrong? Was it because I showed off my eye patch to Duke Scandars, acting friendly with him?
“Sig.”
Though her voice wasn’t loud, Sig felt a deeper fear in her calm tone. His tail instinctively tucked itself between his legs.
