If You Conquer Me - Chapter 10
Hugo stared at Ophelia who was trembling slightly and remained still as Hugo kissed her cheek. She stayed silent.
Is this still okay? Hugo thought to himself as he lowered his head. The faint warmth of his breath lingered on her delicate skin just before his lips almost touched hers.
“Stop, please.”
Ophelia stammered, stopping him. Hugo nodded and smoothly pulled away.
“Oh, so a kiss is too much for you, is it?”
Ophelia bit her lower lip and looked at Hugo. Her expression was strangely confused, as if she was not used to this kind of closeness. Hugo watched her intently, then spoke in a surprisingly gentle tone.
“Still, it’d be good for you to get used to this, too.”
“I’ll think about it.”
Ophelia gritted her teeth and muttered, then Hugo brightened up and spoke cheerfully.
“Good. Now that we’ve more or less settled the terms of the contract, I suppose it’s time to sort out that dreadful appearance of yours.”
“…?”
Ophelia slightly furrowed her brow. She knew her appearance wasn’t exactly pleasant right now. After months of fighting in the gladiator arena and now wrapped in bandages, it was hardly ideal. Trying to act nonchalant, Ophelia asked,
“Should I be careful about my appearance? About my hair color, or my eye color, maybe…?”
“The most common look in the Ascanior Kingdom is black hair and blue eyes, isn’t it? I don’t think you need to worry too much about it.”
Hugo added, as though doing her a favor.
“By the way, princess, if you’re dyeing your hair again, choose another color.”
“Another color?”
“Brown hair doesn’t really suit you.”
“….”
Ophelia glared at him fiercely, but Hugo only smiled back smugly.
“It’s just not my taste.”
“…I didn’t ask.”
“Aren’t you most concerned about my tastes, princess?”
Hugo teased, continuing with a smirk,
“You’re going to be my mistress, right?”
“….”
“A mistress who doesn’t even care about her lover’s preferences? Isn’t that a disqualified mistress?”
The more she spoke to him, the more she felt like a fool. Ophelia decided to just stay silent.
Hugo observed her with interest. Her trembling eyes, the tightly pressed lips, and the way she averted her gaze. She might be pretending to endure it, but her discomfort was all too clear.
Well, despite the hardships, I guess a princess is still a princess.
It seemed like she wasn’t very good at hiding her true feelings. With a small laugh, Hugo reached casually for a document on the side table. Ophelia then noticed the crumpled papers scattered beneath a pile of disheveled newspapers.
Hugo pulled out one sheet from the cluttered pile of papers and, leaning back in the chair, began looking at it. It was the forged identity document Ophelia had used when she first infiltrated as a gladiator slave.
“Currently, the official identity of the princess is a war captive of Ascanior and a lowly gladiator slave.”
“….”
“So, for the name… I think you can just use the one you’ve been using.”
His gaze, quickly scanning the paper, paused at the section with the name written on it. At the same time, his beautiful eyebrows rose slightly.
“Leticia?”
Hugo muttered, considering the alias with some distaste.
“Ophelia would be prettier, but… well, it can’t be helped.”
Without further care, he settled on the title.
“From now on, you’ll be called Leticia.”
“Leticia?”
Ophelia furrowed her brow at once. Leticia. It was an affectionate nickname. Considering that nicknames were typically used only between close people…
“Yes. I can’t be calling my precious mistress by a stiff, formal name, can I?”
Hugo shrugged, glancing at Ophelia.
“By the way, are you going to keep speaking to me like that?”
