Aslan didn’t let go of Lyla for quite some time. It was only when she pounded on his chest, gasping for air, that he finally withdrew his lips.
“Hah, hah.”
Even as she exhaled her labored breaths, Lyla couldn’t move a muscle.
Her body was devoid of strength. It felt as if someone had wrung her out like a piece of laundry, squeezing every ounce of energy from her.
Overwhelmed by fatigue, Lyla closed her eyes. Maybe it was the exhaustion from not having slept well since the festival. It felt like she could fall into a deep sleep if she let herself drift off right now.
The soft grass covering the hill embraced her like a blanket, providing a comfortable cushion with no pressure points.
“Hah…”
With her eyes still closed, Lyla took a long breath. The fragrance of flowers surrounded her, seeming to dispel Aslan’s cool and slightly bitter scent that had clung to her skin and filled her lungs.
But her mind remained chaotic, bombarded by the memory of the bombshell he had dropped on her.
Questions, shock, and thoughts swirled chaotically in her head.
Trying to escape reality, she idly wondered,
‘The grass might have stained my clothes. My hair must be a tangled mess with flower petals stuck in it, making it hard to comb out.’
If someone at home asked why she looked like this, what excuse could she possibly give?
Although there was a more pressing issue to address first…
As she touched her swollen lips, Aslan spoke up.
“Reenacting past events can be a good way to help me regain my memory. Physical communication like this is often more effective than words, especially between a married couple. It should help in recovering my memories. I hope you’ll continue to assist me.”
Lyla abruptly sat up at his words. Narrowing her eyes, she looked at Aslan, who remained utterly unperturbed, in stark contrast to her own flustered state.
Lyla swallowed the words that had almost slipped out and tried to steady her voice before responding.
“…Unfortunately, that’s not possible.”
“Why not?” Aslan asked.
“Because we weren’t like that. We didn’t do things like this in the past, so doing it now won’t help you regain your memory.”
Her voice, which had started out calm, began to tremble.
“I’ve already explained this to you before! We were just a showpiece couple, centered around a contract.”
“But we were still a married couple,” Aslan countered.
Lyla bit her lip and glared at him.
“Even couples brought together by arranged marriages do these things. It’s customary for noble society to have a contract when they marry. That doesn’t make them any different from other couples. The fact that we haven’t done the things couples normally do is what’s unusual.”
There was no flaw in his logic.
But what mattered wasn’t whether he was right or wrong—it was the intention behind his words.
Lyla realized that Aslan had no intention of backing down.
It was a declaration that not only would things like this happen in the future, but more might follow.
Looking at him with a sense of helplessness, Lyla asked in a weak voice,
“…Why are you doing this? What exactly do you want from me?”
“I want to do what everyone else does.”
Aslan responded without the slightest hesitation, absentmindedly fiddling with the ring on his finger.
It didn’t seem like a deliberate action, more of a habit. Lyla’s gaze lingered on his straight fingers for a moment.
Following her gaze, Aslan looked down and noticed the wedding ring he had been absentmindedly touching.
“Oh.”
Silently observing it for a moment, he reached into his pocket.
“I should have given this to you first. I got the order wrong. I apologize.”
When he withdrew his hand, he was holding a small box. It was surprising that his jacket pocket hadn’t visibly bulged despite containing the box.
Curiosity about what was inside the box followed quickly.
As Lyla stared at the firmly closed box, Aslan explained.
“Oscar, who went ahead to Central, sent me a package. A maid at the estate said you left this behind and brought it to him, so he forwarded it to me.”
“…The maid…”
“Her name, I believe, is Jenna. Do you know her?”
Lyla clenched both hands tightly. Jenna. That name had lingered like a thorn in her mind. On the train leaving Central, after Aslan, Jenna was the person she had thought about the most.
Unfazed and competent, Jenna would probably be fine even after she left. But still, leaving without a proper goodbye weighed on her.
Did she receive my letter? Did she resent me for suddenly disappearing?
“It seems you do know her. You must have been quite close,” Aslan observed.
“Yes…”
Lyla murmured in a voice tinged with emotion.
“In that case, this must be what I thought it was,” Aslan muttered quietly as he opened the box. Inside was Lyla’s wedding ring, the one she had left behind at the Tordell estate.
“This is…”
Lyla looked at Aslan with puzzled eyes. He seemed to understand what it was.
So, what was his intention in showing it to her?
Aslan quickly clarified her doubts.
“I want to be truly married to you.”
Aslan whispered this to Lyla, who was endlessly staring at the ring.
“Why…?”
“Because I love you.”
Lyla bit her lip.
She had considered every other possibility, but that was the one she hadn’t expected.
‘…Liar. Did I really not expect it at all?’
Laila questioned herself.
Memories of her time with amnesiac Aslan, who had lost his memory, flashed through her mind like a panorama.
She recalled how he had treated her all this time. Things she had either overlooked or found strange but chose to ignore now started coming together.
Lyla’s lips quivered. The sentences that spun around in her head kept collapsing before she could speak them out loud.
After a long moment, she finally managed to stammer out a response.
“That’s because you’ve lost your memory. Once you regain it, things will change.”
Aslan responded with a crooked smile to her gentle reasoning.
He looked at her with intense eyes and spoke clearly.
“No. Even if I regain my memory, I will still love you.”
“That’s not true.”
“Why are you so sure of that?”
“Because, because…!”
“Because?”
“Because you didn’t love me before!”
“That’s not true.”
Aslan quietly muttered something, but Lyla, who was panting with agitation, didn’t hear him.
“If that’s the case,” he declared firmly, “I will lose my memory again. I’ll lose it as many times as it takes, until I return to being the me that loves you.”
Lyla squeezed her eyes shut.
She hated herself for crumbling so easily in the face of his relentless confession, even though she knew she shouldn’t give in.
Aslan didn’t rush her for an answer. But the longer the silence stretched, the heavier her shoulders felt, and the more anxious her heart grew.
She despised how cowardly she was.
But this was who she was.
Someone who couldn’t simply accept what was given, who constantly worried about things that hadn’t even happened yet, and who endlessly looked back and regretted the past.
Even she wouldn’t want to be around someone like that, so why was the current Aslan confessing his love to her?
She wanted to stop him. She wanted to tell him that someone as great as him should meet a woman recognized by the world, someone like the heroine of a story—not her.
But at the same time, she also wanted to simply accept this unbelievable situation, something she never dared to dream of.
Even if it would all dissolve like a bubble when Aslan regained his memory, a part of her wanted to enjoy this moment.
And perhaps, just as Aslan had confidently claimed, even after regaining his memory, he might not leave her.
However, the rotten stench of long-standing worries held her back.
‘But if he regains his memory and still doesn’t leave me, wouldn’t that be an even bigger problem?’
Aslan could lose his feelings for her once his memory returned.
Yet if he stayed by her side out of pity or obligation, choosing to remain on purpose…
If only the shell of Aslan was left, trapped by her side…
Lyla squeezed her eyes shut again.
‘Absolutely not.’
She couldn’t allow that. That’s why she left the Tordell estate in the first place—because she couldn’t bear the idea of Aslan, who loved Rosalyn, maintaining a hollow marriage with her. She didn’t want to be a burden that he felt obligated to carry.
After all the hypothetical scenarios had run through her mind, Lyla finally spoke in a trembling voice.
“…I’m scared.”
“There’s nothing to be afraid of.”
His steady, firm voice made her want to trust him.
But trust wasn’t something that came easily.
The anxiety and distrust Lyla had built up over the years couldn’t simply vanish overnight…
“…Give me time.”
Lyla opened her eyes. She quickly stopped Aslan from immediately responding with a rebuttal.
“I need to be ready.”
She continued speaking without hesitation.
“Let’s talk again after you’ve regained your memory.”
Growing impatient, Aslan asked, “What if I regain my memory tomorrow? Will we talk again tomorrow?”
Lyla let out a deflated laugh at his words.
“That’s not going to happen. If this isn’t some made-up story, such a conveniently timed event won’t happen.”
She looked up at Aslan again, her gaze steady as she repeated, “Right?”
Aslan suppressed a sigh.
“…Alright.”
He smiled. The gentle, kind smile was one Lyla had seen many times before.
However, the words that came out of those perfectly shaped lips were different from what she was used to hearing.
“If I want an answer, then I’ll need to regain my memory as soon as possible.”
Aslan, who had just spoken in a tone that was more challenging, even provocative, reached out and lightly brushed Lyla’s cheek.
