꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷THERE IS NO WAY YOU LOVE ME꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷
Those words felt distant. They didn’t sink in at all.
“Lies…”
He was clearly trying to comfort her. She should have been grateful—but only misery welled up inside.
“There’s no way that’s true.”
Why couldn’t she, stupid and pathetic as she was, let herself believe it? If only she could stop digging into her doubts and just think of nothing at all.
Her voice trembled, caught between laughter and tears. Alyssa tried to pull her hand away, but Kieran didn’t let go.
“I can show you.”
Kieran’s voice was steady and firm. As though he understood the deep-rooted doubts gripping her, he continued,
“If you can’t believe my words—see for yourself.”
That suggestion filled Alyssa with dread. It felt like Kieran might light the room any moment and rip her mask away.
But unlike her fearful imagination, all he did was hold her hand a little more tightly.
“If you don’t have the courage, then you don’t have to.”
She suddenly remembered Claudius’s eyes, scolding her for not taking off the mask. Her mother’s hand settled on her shoulder as she stood Alyssa before the mirror.
Kieran’s soft voice gently covered those memories.
“Whatever choice you make, I’ll respect it.”
He was slowly replacing her dark world with his own.
“I…”
The ticking of the clock’s second hand began to echo. The time of this illusion was nearly over.
“I…”
Kieran loosened his grip on her hand. He was still holding on, but with just enough strength that she could easily pull away if she wanted to.
Countless thoughts and voices scattered through her mind. Her urge to run clashed violently with the desire to hold that hand even tighter.
‘It’s still dark.’
Tick, tick.
The ticking of the second hand felt like it was pushing her forward. The moment Alyssa removed her mask with trembling hands, the darkness slowly began to lift like the breaking of dawn.
The light came too fast—so fast her face turned pale. A cool breeze brushed the area around her eyes, which had always been hidden under something.
She stood frozen, neither putting the mask back on nor letting it fall, until a large hand gently covered her eyes.
She could feel sunlight streaming in through the window, but her vision remained dark—a warm and safe darkness.
Kieran said nothing. He simply waited patiently. Alyssa hesitated for a long while, then finally took a deep breath and slowly reached out to hold the arm that covered her eyes.
It felt like she was seeing morning for the first time. The brightness stung. As her whitewashed vision cleared, he came into view.
The first thing she saw was the gentle curve of his lips, drawn in a soft arc. Then the graceful jawline, the smooth white cheek, and a straight nose. Their eyes met.
Green eyes, like summer foliage. In that calm lake-like gaze, she saw someone reflected.
A woman with black hair.
Her skin was pale, as if she’d never known sunlight, her lips a faint red, and her eyes rimmed red as if she’d cried.
She wasn’t strikingly beautiful. Her expression was timid and withdrawn, her black hair messily tousled.
But the corners of her eyes lifted slightly. Her eyebrows were a bit lighter than her hair, and her eyelashes were long.
The woman looked shabby and exhausted, but there was nothing grotesque or distorted about her.
She wasn’t a monster. She was… just a person.
“Ah…”
A small gasp escaped her lips, and the woman reflected in his eyes quietly opened her mouth in unison.
It was a face she was seeing for the first time, yet it didn’t feel strange at all.
Surprise. Bewilderment. And a haunting question:
Am I… really just a normal human being?
Then why did others avoid me? Why did they hate me so much, desperate to destroy me?
If I wasn’t a monster—if I was human, just like them—then why?
And if all of that was wrong… what does that make of the life I thought was only natural?
The moment she had that thought, Alyssa flinched and stepped away.
They had been so close they could see their reflections in each other’s eyes, but in an instant, the distance widened.
The woman with black hair vanished, and only Kieran remained—his face startled.
But the image she had just seen kept flickering in her mind. It felt like she could hear the sound of cracks forming in the world she had believed in until now.
‘No.’
She forcibly cut off the thoughts that kept trying to connect. Alyssa steadied her breath and desperately emptied her mind.
She shut the trembling world away, clinging stubbornly to that dark, painful place. It was the only choice that made sense.
Who could so easily deny their entire life?
No matter what kind of face she had—it didn’t matter. What she needed to focus on was the fact that Kieran’s gaze toward her hadn’t changed.
Once that frantic thought finally reached her, Alyssa let out a deep sigh as if in relief.
She groped along the floor, retrieved her fallen mask, and put it back on. Then she lifted her head. Seeing him look down at her with a face full of worry made her smile effortlessly.
“It’s true, isn’t it.”
Kieran had seen her face—and still, he looked at her, just as before.
“You really don’t hate me?”
That alone was enough. Alyssa beamed.
The terrible doubt that had momentarily surfaced was swept away without a trace by the overwhelming joy that followed. She couldn’t contain her smile. She laughed with all her strength, her heart overflowing.
Nothing else mattered. She wanted nothing more.
Alyssa had received everything she had ever wished for. This was enough. She needed nothing else.
There was no longer any reason to hesitate or suffer. Everything had become perfect.
As he watched that radiant face, Kieran looked slightly away.
Seeing her so overjoyed made him feel strangely self-conscious, and his eyes stung from how brightly she smiled.
‘Was she always someone who could smile like that?’
If the painter who had once done Alyssa’s portrait had seen her now, he might have torn his work to shreds on the spot.
She was smiling—pure white. A bright, innocent smile that looked like it might melt into the sunlight.
That brief flicker of unease still lingered in the back of his mind, but rather than stir it up, Kieran chose instead to hold onto that smile for just a little longer.
“…Yes. Alyssa.”
Because of that, Kieran replied—albeit in a slightly awkward tone.
Alyssa, who had been overjoyed just a moment ago, widened her eyes at his words. Embarrassed by her obvious reaction, Kieran quickly added an explanation, almost like an excuse.
“I was advised by Mirika that the way I address you is far too formal.”
At that, Alyssa remembered something from not long ago—a conversation they had shared in Elshar. A question she hadn’t even realized she’d had was suddenly recalled and answered all at once.
“She said it wasn’t a proper way to address one’s wife.”
A brief silence followed that statement. Alyssa’s face turned bright red, and although Kieran’s complexion remained composed, his gaze subtly shifted away.
“Y-you could still call me ‘Your Grace’ if you’d prefer…”
“Yes, that is technically one way to refer to you, but it isn’t a name that’s exclusive to me.”
Alyssa herself wouldn’t have cared what he called her, but hearing that made Kieran feel unexpectedly guilty.
He had long ago told Alyssa to speak to him in a more familiar, spousal way, yet he himself had failed to do the same.
Why is this so difficult?
Even though he’d resolved to fix it, it wasn’t easy. In the past, he could’ve said it without hesitation—yet now, the idea oddly tickled at his nerves.
As absurd as it was, he found himself worried she might reject him.
“Traditionally, ‘wife’ might be the proper term, but given our unusual circumstances, it probably wouldn’t be used often.”
“……”
“So, if it’s alright with you…”
His mouth felt dry despite the words being so simple. Trying to appear calm, Kieran smiled and said:
“Would you grant me permission to use your name?”
“Yes!”
Alyssa, so tightly wound with nerves, answered immediately—too quickly, in fact. Both of their eyes widened in surprise, and her face turned so red it seemed ready to burst.
Hic!
She quickly covered her mouth with both hands, her shoulders shaking. Her normally pale face was flushed with color, and she looked like a bashful girl.
Kieran couldn’t help but smile softly. Then, after rolling the unfamiliar name on his tongue a few times, he finally spoke it aloud:
“Thank you, Alyssa.”
“…Yes, my lord.”
Her reply, shy and sweet, brought an odd expression to Kieran’s face. After a brief pause, he slowly shook his head.
“It feels strange if only one of us speaks formally.”
It was a short sentence, but Alyssa immediately understood what he meant. Hesitating briefly, she mustered up the courage to speak.
“Kieran.”
It was the moment, across two lifetimes, when he was finally granted a name.
Thank you very much