Secret Love Affair between a Former Saint and a Dark Hero - Chapter 36
My cheeks were warm. This is what it felt like to take a bite of a convenience store bun on a warm winter day. Every winter, since high school, she and Sol used to buy pizza buns and red bean buns, splitting them in half to share.
As the sweet taste spread in my mouth, the cold also took a step away. They teased each other while walking and held hands. Under the streetlight, snowflakes quietly fell.
Sol nudged her shoulder. When she looked, Sol was grinning broadly.
‘Jiyeon, actually, there’s something I haven’t told you.’
‘What is it? As long as it’s not some secret of my birth, I’ll forgive anything.’
‘Oh, really? You’ll forgive everything? Wow, my friend is so forgiving!’
‘Of course.’
If my friend was holding a secret, it must have been quite an extraordinary one. Perhaps it wasn’t something like being born to save the world, as in the movies. She giggled and playfully shook the bag.
‘Thanks for saying that. I’ll definitely tell you later, Jiyeon. Promise.’
‘Sure. But, um… it’s not something serious, right? I mean, I’m not asking because I’m scared or anything.”’
‘What! Are you scared to ask about something I’m so confident about? Ha! Am I like, secretly a monster or something?’
‘Monster? That’s funny. If you’re a monster, then I’m an alien! Why are you like this?’
The scenery faded. I reached out far with a sense of longing. Don’t go. Don’t go, Sol.
It’s too lonely and painful here. I want to go back…
* * *
“Are you awake, Iora?”
When Iora opened her eyes, she let out a silent scream, her mouth agape at the sight before her. Though she made no sound of terror, her shock and fear were so palpable that the man kneeling before her, with a handsome face, was helping her to her feet. She was trembling.
“I, I, I, I, dare…”
Why am I kneeling before the Crown Prince?
The horrified Iora wanted to ask. Her trembling fingers were pointing at the creased pants of the Crown Prince. Despite the momentary amusement in Ovid’s eyes, he quickly returned to his usual impassive demeanor and calmly explained.
“Do you remember the last thing before fainting? What you might have experienced?”
Fainting? Iora felt like this was all a dream, but the Crown Prince’s expression was serious.
“What? W-what happened?”
“You probably felt like you were drunk, experiencing dizziness and nausea. It could have been worse… you might have taken off your clothes due to the heat. And you were standing in the middle of the street. Quite a few people might have seen. So, your family members must have also heard by now… Iora?”
Ovid paused for a moment from his explanation. He had expected Iora to be shocked, but her reaction exceeded his expectations. She had a face that seemed like she could pass out at any moment. Fear, a silent scream, despair.
“I, I did such a thing…”
Ovid frowned in embarrassment.
“No, my Lady. Thankfully, after you crouched down, I covered you with my cloak and moved you to the carriage. It didn’t seem to be a severe situation. However, the people who saw you inside the shop…”
“Oh, no.”
There was no false consolation that it would be alright.
“Oh no. No, no, please no.”
“My Lady, are you okay? …Iora? Iora?”
“Uhh… wh-what do I do? What should we do? There will be strange rumors. And, and…”
She looked like she was going to die. No, that expression wasn’t accurate. It was more like a face expecting someone to come after her with a knife, ready to kill her at any moment. Ovid felt even more disturbed by her guilt, which seemed like a thorn stuck at the tip of his finger. It would be more correct to call it remorse, a moral burden.
‘How should I…’
It was a fear that made him wonder whether he should take her to Ribandt estate like this. He couldn’t prevent the people from watching. Undoubtedly, rumors must have already spread. Was she afraid of it? Why? What was she going to experience?
There was a cracking sound that came from Ovid’s hand. Admitting it to himself, he found his present company pitiable. He couldn’t look away and it troubled him. It was like allowing an innocent child to wander into danger and doing nothing about it. And if his dreadful assumptions were correct, then Ovid himself was the one who pushed that girl further into the abyss. The deliberate animosity towards her, the treatment compared to Arcanda, all of it. Lastly, the decision to break the engagement would have ultimately pushed Iora off the cliff’s edge.
The trembling eyes of this fragile violet were heartrending, even to Ovid who had a callous nature, despised the weak, and knew no sympathy. But now he knew what it was like to have a bitter heart. Ovid bit his lip.
My lady, are you being abused?
Do you need my help?
Don’t you want to go home?
I…
Do you need me?
