Secret Love Affair between a Former Saint and a Dark Hero - Chapter 76
Closer, Iora squeezed her eyes shut and realized he was holding the carriage door open for her.
The Crown Prince’s shocking appearance was right there, almost touching. She didn’t know what to make of it, even though she had no love for him, and a tinge of nervousness ran down her shoulders.
It felt like their eyes had met. In that moment, he smiled ever so slightly.
“As I said, Arcanda and I are still just friends. From now on, I’ll work hard to deepen our relationship. It’s not about breaking off the engagement, but about bettering our relationship.”
“…”
With a very gentle but firm push, Iora found herself standing outside the carriage. It felt like what she’d been trying to get had flown away, and she’d picked up something strange. This wasn’t what she expected.
‘Where was the man who was so considerate and handsome, but was stubborn as a stuffy clogged drain?’
The Crown Prince’s arm stuck out of the open carriage door, forearm up. It was muscular, bearing the same hand that brushed against Iora’s lip.
“Next time, we’ll meet formally, Iora. As an engaged lady and her betrothed.”
“…”
Why do I feel like a dog chasing a chicken?
Iora thought absentmindedly. It had been twisted from the first chapter—this plan she’d put together with determination and venom to dump the indecisive male lead.
Where did the naive man with overflowing consideration and good looks go? Why does it feel like the lovesick hero who clung to Arcanda was replaced with an obsessive male lead? Besides, from his point of view, he wasn’t dealing with the adorable female lead — he was being possessive of a fake saint who would eventually be cast aside.
‘What’s going on?’
Soon, a twisted smile began to creep on Iora’s face. Her breathing became ragged. Raising her hand toward the worried, pacing maid, Iora finally kicked the stone on the ground with a cool kick.
She paid no attention to the shocked scream of the servant.
‘That bastard, he only wants me when he can’t have me!’
It’s like even when he couldn’t eat the persimmon[1], he wasn’t willing to give it to anyone else. Crown Prince Ovid truly was a greedy *sshole.
* * *
Something flew by with a thud and hit the carriage door with a bang. It looked like a rock. From the direction it came, he could tell where it had come from, and he almost burst out laughing. She must have thrown it at him.
‘I never knew she had such a cute side.’
She had everything to say, her eyes were clear, and her voice was full of life, making him want to talk to her more and more. He wondered why the rumors about her had indicated otherwise. Why hadn’t he known earlier? And why had he never thought of having a conversation with her?
‘I’ve been truly arrogant.’
Through the open window, a mysterious figure approached. It seemed like they overheard the conversation between the two. The knight’s face was filled with undisguised unease.
“Your Highness, wasn’t Lady Ribandt a discardable pawn?”
“That’s right.”
“But why did you say such things today…?”
Understanding what the knight was getting at, Ovid smiled with a slight twist of his lips.
Then, without holding back, he asked, “Why? Did I really seem like a scoundrel? Did my actions prevent her from leaving when she said she would?”
Smirking at the sweating knight, Ovid affirmed, “That’s right. I seemed like a bad guy. I had no shame in front of her. But still, why?”
“Yes?”
“Even though I knew she was right. Even knowing all that…I couldn’t give her the answer she wanted. No, it would be more accurate to say I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to let her go, even if I have to endure her cursing me in her head.”
Ovid rubbed his chin thoughtfully. His brow slightly furrowed, and his heart continued to race. When she brought up the topic of breaking off the engagement, an inexplicable and dreadful fear engulfed him. The thought that he couldn’t let go of her, that he would regret it terribly if he did, dominated his mind.
And above all, those eyes…
“Yes? What did you say, Your Highness?”
“No, it’s nothing.”
Those violet eyes shone with such jewel-like clarity, it felt like they were being driven into his heart.
* * *
A crooked smile tugged at the man’s lips as he listened to their conversation from the branches. Ovid was still such a hypocrite. He was sitting there with all his pretense, knowing full well that even the brats down at the market knew that he left his betrothed and had his sights on another woman. What an abominable man.
‘Anyway…’
The man’s blue eyes narrowed slightly. At the end of that gaze was a woman who seemed to spit out something rather unspeakable towards the prince. Whether it was out of anger or humiliation, her glaring eyes had a sharpness and venom that was oddly appealing.
‘Right. To survive in this world, you need that level of madness.’
He suppressed a chuckle that threatened to burst out. Who on earth was this insane woman, boldly making such noise in front of the prince and even demanding that they break up?
A persistent curiosity seemed to relentlessly shake its head. He wanted to take her hair in his hands and make her look at him and talk to him while she stood still. It was just a crush, but what a crush. Though he found other people hateful and bothersome, it was fascinating how certain sentiments managed to captivate his attention.
‘And above all…’
The eyes of the man, Vigros, glinted oddly.
“I found her, the owner of the fragrance.”
¹못 먹는 감 찔러나 본다 (pricking a persimmon one can’t eat/reach) is an old Korean saying that more or less means that if someone can’t have it, they make sure no else can. Poking a persimmon while it’s still on the tree with a stick makes sure that it rots before it has a chance to ripen.↩
