What on earth is Erita trying to say? It's unclear whether it's his promiscuous past with countless women or his past of killing countless people.
Since I already know a lot about him and have even registered my marriage, there is no point in hearing about his past; it will only make me uncomfortable.
Even the words of someone who's a master at lying are etched into a corner of your memory the moment you hear them, and you can't help but be constantly concerned. With a complicated feeling, I focused my gaze on her trembling red lips, as if they were about to spill the uncomfortable truth at any moment.
Erita, holding the hem of her skirt as if she were going to tear it, was looking at me with that evil face.
It's not for me, who wants to marry Noah without knowing his past. It's simply a sinister motive, a desire to expose and ruin the past of a man she can't have.
So I didn't think I needed to hear it. I didn't want to know, and I decided not to.
“The Princess said you could understand this man’s entire past.”
I asked.
"Yes."
“Even a Princess who had no relationship with him could understand, so why wouldn’t I, who was engaged to be married, understand?”
Erita, who had her jet-black bob cut a little longer than mine, looked at me with an expression of incomprehension.
"That man can't love anyone else. You think you understand the past of a man who can never love you? Your feelings for him are fleeting. They'll fade quickly."
“Love also grows cold, Princess.”
My answer was countered by a young girl who believed that love was unchanging, omnipotent, and absolved all sins.
"Yeah. Love will fade, too. But that won't happen to me."
I used to think that way too.
When I was young, I thought love was based on looks and a compatible personality. But the more I met, the more I realized I didn't really understand what love was.
"Love doesn't come from understanding everything, Princess. That's just coercion. Forcing yourself to love yourself for understanding someone's flaws, even though they never asked for it."
“What do you know? Do you know what that guy did in the past?”
“I don’t know. I’m not the type of person who dwells on the past like the Princess.”
Noah, who had been standing still in silence, slowly lowered his eyes and opened them. His pupils were clouded beneath his eyelashes. He looked at Erita with a blank expression and released his lips, which had been tightly shut.
“Speak, Erita.”
The command given in a cold, chilled voice instead made her lips harden.
"What...?"
“If you have the confidence that you can change something by speaking up, then do anything.”
Noah, seeing Erita's mouth twist fiercely as she could no longer speak, added with a leisurely smile.
Erita, who had been lowering her head and looking down, turned around without saying a word, a cold wind blasting through her. The Duke of Hessen clicked his tongue as he watched Erita's back as she turned and headed off somewhere else.
“...Medea’s future is bleak.”
“No need to worry.”
Noah tapped me on the shoulder and led me out of the hall. I didn't ask what Erita was trying to say.
It was Noah who asked the question first.
“Aren’t you going to ask what Erita was trying to say?”
“No. It just makes me feel bad when I hear it.”
Noah's footsteps suddenly stopped as we walked down the hallway. He was looking down at me. More precisely, he was observing my expression. I didn't bother to hide it. Noah lowered his eyes and smiled prettily.
“Actually, I don’t know what she was trying to say.”
I don't know if it's because he's made so many mistakes or because he doesn't know what he's done wrong. If it were a woman's problem, he would have been caught for so long.
Having dealt with so many cheating men, I have a sense of that. There are so many things in this world I could just as easily ignore, so I shook my head vigorously.
"As I said last time, I don't want to worry about what other people say unless I've experienced it firsthand. It's probably just a way to drive a wedge between us."
“Yeah. There’s something you say often.”
Noah bent down and met my face, smiling with a cool, almost chilling smile.
“Nothing has changed.”
“Yes, that’s right.”
"No matter what I realize now, no matter what the circumstances, nothing will change, just as the Princess said. You chose me."
“What does that mean?”
His slender fingers touched my cheek.
“I’m saying that our relationship won’t change. Do you understand?”
A low voice, drawn from deep within. A gentle yet fierce compulsion. I stared up at the man, his eyes like a fierce bird of prey in the darkness, my mouth slightly open.
Whenever this man felt anxious, he would occasionally reveal his hidden, dangerous nature.
I don't know if it's because I've lived under a national ideology that says to conquer and dominate others through force, violence, and fear, or if it's because I'm just bursting out with the possessiveness and desire to conquer that's unique to men.
This may have its own charm, but I'm not that docile. Even my eyes, which don't like to be discouraged, showed a hint of rebellion.
“I don’t know?”
“You’re mine. I promised you I would.”
“You’re mine too? We both have a stake.”
Even though my mere protest was a question mark attack, Noah stroked my face with a look of petty affection.
"Even if I tell you we're breaking up later, you'll pretend not to hear. If you run away, I'll find you. It makes me anxious that I can't read your every thought. It feels like I'm the only one who's changed."
“Yes, you’ve become cute in many ways. I think you’re cute.”
I continued speaking, whispering softly in his ear as he lowered his head.
"But it's not cute to say it like that. Do you think I'd run away just because I'd lost my mind? From a man with the best conditions?"
As I slowly stroked Noah's hair, his eyes widened.
Being stuck next to someone who has no heart? What's so hard about that that you'd run away? They're providing you with food, clothing, and shelter.
I don't care if he locks me up or keeps me from doing anything. That's my specialty, my passion, and my fundamental purpose upon coming to this world. That's why I was kidnapped by him in the first place. Because I wanted to "survive without doing anything."
"Even if you surrender to me and ask me to leave, I won't. I've filled at least 60% of my dowry. I have nowhere to take it. It's too late to regret it. I need to live comfortably and be happy."
“Are you comfortable and happy with me, Princess?”
Noah's eyes lit up as he watched me, who was saying that it was worth using thoroughly and calculatingly, but instead, he was trying to intimidate me. It was a look of delight, a satisfaction that was only possible for such a peculiar man.
I suggested one way.
“Noah, I don’t think that will happen, but if the day comes when I have to say goodbye, cry in front of me.”
"Why?"
“I’ll change my mind again because you look so pretty when you cry. Easy, right?”
“Do you want to see me cry?”
"You're not crying, are you? It's a rare sight, isn't it? I need to see it at least once before I die."
A strange sense of humiliation settled over Noah's expressionless face. He felt a sense of helplessness, as if he had realized that all his thoughts had been futile. He let out a heavy breath and, with a languid expression, examined me carefully.
“You have been taming me all this time.”
Rather, the nine-tailed fox, now tamed, looks regretful. He added in a slightly hushed voice.
"Your tastes are a bit strange, but I still like you. You can use me, you can need me. You'll be my Queen."
I tangled my fingers in Noah's silver hair. This feeling was so good I couldn't stop.
“Yee. Oh, right.”
I suddenly stopped moving my fingers as if a memory had occurred to me.
"If you cheat or bring in the government, I'll do the same. There are plenty of rooms, so that's okay. I'll take the second floor."
Noah, whose hair was being pulled by me, shook his head in frustration.
“Why are you saying such ominous things? I don’t like it.”
"So you shouldn't do that, either, that ominous premise. Everyone has anxiety."
Is that guy suffering from marriage blues? With only a week left until the wedding, I wonder if it's a mixture of affection, obsession, and possessiveness that's creating anxiety.
Perhaps he was confused by the unfamiliar emotions he was experiencing for the first time. Having learned how to overcome these elements of anxiety, he began to ask questions earnestly.
"I'll practice crying. You told me you wouldn't leave if I cried. But how much do I have to cry?"
Does crying require practice? He's a unique person, so maybe. Feeling at an advantage, I lifted my nose and smiled wickedly. For now, I've beaten this man. Look at his vulnerable face. It's my reward.
I feel pretty good today. No, I feel like I'm going to fly.
I hummed and walked briskly through the palace's outdoor corridors. I'd stopped by the palace to give Baroness Mason the new undergarment designs, instructional materials, and samples, and I'd already received a hefty down payment.
I'm so happy to be able to make easy money by providing modern items little by little, just enough to prevent civilization from being destroyed like this in the future.
As I was walking, carefully cradling in my arms the box containing the very sexy pajamas the Baroness had given me to wear on our honeymoon, someone approached me without a sound and tapped me on the back.
“What a surprise!”
“Hello. I’m sorry if I startled you.”
Ayla greeted me with a timid, thin voice, then looked at me with her characteristically gentle face. "After all that humiliation, you still work here?"
“Yes, hello. Is there anything you need?”
I greeted her reluctantly. Ayla wiggled her fingers and bowed her head.
“I was really grateful before... and I have something to confess.”
“What is it? I like guys.”
"Yes? That's not it. I was ignorant and made a huge mistake. To you and your fiancé."
Ayla continued speaking softly.
“As you may know, I was the mistress of the Marquis of Wales. So I was ignorant of that part, and I assumed all men were the same.”
“Just get to the point. I’m busy.”
"I previously asked your fiancé for help, offering to sleep with him in return. Of course, he declined. I didn't know you were engaged. I'm truly sorry."
“I was like that because I didn’t know much and didn’t have much education. I’m sorry.”
I don't like the long and tedious excuses, but since they weren't coming out of an interrogation but were confessions made on their own, I decided to take that into consideration.
“Yes. If you know it was wrong, don’t do it again.”
“Aren’t you angry?”
She asked with a nervous expression, as if I was about to slap him in the face.
"You apologized first, didn't you? Getting angry will only cause me a headache. I'll understand if you say, 'I guess no one told me it was wrong.'"
"I want to be someone precious to someone, too. Not someone to be used or treated like a toy. That... I'm so new to learning that I don't know how to explain it."
It seems she only ever received kindness and favor out of desire and need. I answered easily.
“Just value the other person first.”
“Oh, then does that person also value me?”
“I don’t know. If it works, great. If it doesn’t, so be it.”
Ayla's lips curled up, looking slightly sullen.
“I think I’ll be sad if it doesn’t work out.”
"So, let's try. Do your best. I don't know who it is, but."
We did devise strategies while engaging in advanced psychological warfare, but looking back now, I wonder if it was really necessary to do so from the beginning.
“Why do you think it was only me?”
"Yes?"
"That man, too, tried to be unique and precious to me. He tried to be needed."
Ayla stared at me, her mouth agape, a look of considerable surprise on her face. What's so surprising about that? This is unsettling. It felt like I was seeing a friend who only ever picked up trash, and I felt a surge of frustration.
"Who is that person you want to cherish? Someone who isn't married, but a normal person, right?"
In response to my question, Ayla, who is two or three years older than I, smiles brightly and innocently. Some people may appreciate her naiveté, but most believe it's because she's easy to handle.
"Because it's easy to have and easy to throw away," she answered clearly, her eyes sparkling with laughter.
“This is Frogen. This is Mastiff Argentino.”
This is crazy.
Since I already know a lot about him and have even registered my marriage, there is no point in hearing about his past; it will only make me uncomfortable.
Even the words of someone who's a master at lying are etched into a corner of your memory the moment you hear them, and you can't help but be constantly concerned. With a complicated feeling, I focused my gaze on her trembling red lips, as if they were about to spill the uncomfortable truth at any moment.
Erita, holding the hem of her skirt as if she were going to tear it, was looking at me with that evil face.
It's not for me, who wants to marry Noah without knowing his past. It's simply a sinister motive, a desire to expose and ruin the past of a man she can't have.
So I didn't think I needed to hear it. I didn't want to know, and I decided not to.
“The Princess said you could understand this man’s entire past.”
I asked.
"Yes."
“Even a Princess who had no relationship with him could understand, so why wouldn’t I, who was engaged to be married, understand?”
Erita, who had her jet-black bob cut a little longer than mine, looked at me with an expression of incomprehension.
"That man can't love anyone else. You think you understand the past of a man who can never love you? Your feelings for him are fleeting. They'll fade quickly."
“Love also grows cold, Princess.”
My answer was countered by a young girl who believed that love was unchanging, omnipotent, and absolved all sins.
"Yeah. Love will fade, too. But that won't happen to me."
I used to think that way too.
When I was young, I thought love was based on looks and a compatible personality. But the more I met, the more I realized I didn't really understand what love was.
"Love doesn't come from understanding everything, Princess. That's just coercion. Forcing yourself to love yourself for understanding someone's flaws, even though they never asked for it."
“What do you know? Do you know what that guy did in the past?”
“I don’t know. I’m not the type of person who dwells on the past like the Princess.”
Noah, who had been standing still in silence, slowly lowered his eyes and opened them. His pupils were clouded beneath his eyelashes. He looked at Erita with a blank expression and released his lips, which had been tightly shut.
“Speak, Erita.”
The command given in a cold, chilled voice instead made her lips harden.
"What...?"
“If you have the confidence that you can change something by speaking up, then do anything.”
Noah, seeing Erita's mouth twist fiercely as she could no longer speak, added with a leisurely smile.
"You won't be able to say it. Right? Because you haven't been able to say it until now."
“...Medea’s future is bleak.”
“No need to worry.”
Noah tapped me on the shoulder and led me out of the hall. I didn't ask what Erita was trying to say.
It was Noah who asked the question first.
“Aren’t you going to ask what Erita was trying to say?”
“No. It just makes me feel bad when I hear it.”
Noah's footsteps suddenly stopped as we walked down the hallway. He was looking down at me. More precisely, he was observing my expression. I didn't bother to hide it. Noah lowered his eyes and smiled prettily.
“Actually, I don’t know what she was trying to say.”
I don't know if it's because he's made so many mistakes or because he doesn't know what he's done wrong. If it were a woman's problem, he would have been caught for so long.
Having dealt with so many cheating men, I have a sense of that. There are so many things in this world I could just as easily ignore, so I shook my head vigorously.
"As I said last time, I don't want to worry about what other people say unless I've experienced it firsthand. It's probably just a way to drive a wedge between us."
“Yeah. There’s something you say often.”
Noah bent down and met my face, smiling with a cool, almost chilling smile.
“Nothing has changed.”
“Yes, that’s right.”
"No matter what I realize now, no matter what the circumstances, nothing will change, just as the Princess said. You chose me."
“What does that mean?”
His slender fingers touched my cheek.
“I’m saying that our relationship won’t change. Do you understand?”
A low voice, drawn from deep within. A gentle yet fierce compulsion. I stared up at the man, his eyes like a fierce bird of prey in the darkness, my mouth slightly open.
Whenever this man felt anxious, he would occasionally reveal his hidden, dangerous nature.
I don't know if it's because I've lived under a national ideology that says to conquer and dominate others through force, violence, and fear, or if it's because I'm just bursting out with the possessiveness and desire to conquer that's unique to men.
This may have its own charm, but I'm not that docile. Even my eyes, which don't like to be discouraged, showed a hint of rebellion.
“I don’t know?”
“You’re mine. I promised you I would.”
“You’re mine too? We both have a stake.”
Even though my mere protest was a question mark attack, Noah stroked my face with a look of petty affection.
"Even if I tell you we're breaking up later, you'll pretend not to hear. If you run away, I'll find you. It makes me anxious that I can't read your every thought. It feels like I'm the only one who's changed."
“Yes, you’ve become cute in many ways. I think you’re cute.”
I continued speaking, whispering softly in his ear as he lowered his head.
"But it's not cute to say it like that. Do you think I'd run away just because I'd lost my mind? From a man with the best conditions?"
As I slowly stroked Noah's hair, his eyes widened.
Being stuck next to someone who has no heart? What's so hard about that that you'd run away? They're providing you with food, clothing, and shelter.
I don't care if he locks me up or keeps me from doing anything. That's my specialty, my passion, and my fundamental purpose upon coming to this world. That's why I was kidnapped by him in the first place. Because I wanted to "survive without doing anything."
"Even if you surrender to me and ask me to leave, I won't. I've filled at least 60% of my dowry. I have nowhere to take it. It's too late to regret it. I need to live comfortably and be happy."
“Are you comfortable and happy with me, Princess?”
Noah's eyes lit up as he watched me, who was saying that it was worth using thoroughly and calculatingly, but instead, he was trying to intimidate me. It was a look of delight, a satisfaction that was only possible for such a peculiar man.
I suggested one way.
“Noah, I don’t think that will happen, but if the day comes when I have to say goodbye, cry in front of me.”
"Why?"
“I’ll change my mind again because you look so pretty when you cry. Easy, right?”
“Do you want to see me cry?”
"You're not crying, are you? It's a rare sight, isn't it? I need to see it at least once before I die."
A strange sense of humiliation settled over Noah's expressionless face. He felt a sense of helplessness, as if he had realized that all his thoughts had been futile. He let out a heavy breath and, with a languid expression, examined me carefully.
“You have been taming me all this time.”
Rather, the nine-tailed fox, now tamed, looks regretful. He added in a slightly hushed voice.
"Your tastes are a bit strange, but I still like you. You can use me, you can need me. You'll be my Queen."
I tangled my fingers in Noah's silver hair. This feeling was so good I couldn't stop.
“Yee. Oh, right.”
I suddenly stopped moving my fingers as if a memory had occurred to me.
"If you cheat or bring in the government, I'll do the same. There are plenty of rooms, so that's okay. I'll take the second floor."
Noah, whose hair was being pulled by me, shook his head in frustration.
“Why are you saying such ominous things? I don’t like it.”
"So you shouldn't do that, either, that ominous premise. Everyone has anxiety."
Is that guy suffering from marriage blues? With only a week left until the wedding, I wonder if it's a mixture of affection, obsession, and possessiveness that's creating anxiety.
Perhaps he was confused by the unfamiliar emotions he was experiencing for the first time. Having learned how to overcome these elements of anxiety, he began to ask questions earnestly.
"I'll practice crying. You told me you wouldn't leave if I cried. But how much do I have to cry?"
Does crying require practice? He's a unique person, so maybe. Feeling at an advantage, I lifted my nose and smiled wickedly. For now, I've beaten this man. Look at his vulnerable face. It's my reward.
***
I feel pretty good today. No, I feel like I'm going to fly.
I hummed and walked briskly through the palace's outdoor corridors. I'd stopped by the palace to give Baroness Mason the new undergarment designs, instructional materials, and samples, and I'd already received a hefty down payment.
I'm so happy to be able to make easy money by providing modern items little by little, just enough to prevent civilization from being destroyed like this in the future.
As I was walking, carefully cradling in my arms the box containing the very sexy pajamas the Baroness had given me to wear on our honeymoon, someone approached me without a sound and tapped me on the back.
“What a surprise!”
“Hello. I’m sorry if I startled you.”
Ayla greeted me with a timid, thin voice, then looked at me with her characteristically gentle face. "After all that humiliation, you still work here?"
“Yes, hello. Is there anything you need?”
I greeted her reluctantly. Ayla wiggled her fingers and bowed her head.
“I was really grateful before... and I have something to confess.”
“What is it? I like guys.”
"Yes? That's not it. I was ignorant and made a huge mistake. To you and your fiancé."
Ayla continued speaking softly.
“As you may know, I was the mistress of the Marquis of Wales. So I was ignorant of that part, and I assumed all men were the same.”
“Just get to the point. I’m busy.”
"I previously asked your fiancé for help, offering to sleep with him in return. Of course, he declined. I didn't know you were engaged. I'm truly sorry."
I had expected it, more or less. This young thing, so reckless, not knowing how precious her own body is. Seeing me glare like a demon about to unleash a thunderous command, Ayla shrank back slightly.
I don't like the long and tedious excuses, but since they weren't coming out of an interrogation but were confessions made on their own, I decided to take that into consideration.
“Yes. If you know it was wrong, don’t do it again.”
“Aren’t you angry?”
She asked with a nervous expression, as if I was about to slap him in the face.
"You apologized first, didn't you? Getting angry will only cause me a headache. I'll understand if you say, 'I guess no one told me it was wrong.'"
"I want to be someone precious to someone, too. Not someone to be used or treated like a toy. That... I'm so new to learning that I don't know how to explain it."
It seems she only ever received kindness and favor out of desire and need. I answered easily.
“Just value the other person first.”
“Oh, then does that person also value me?”
“I don’t know. If it works, great. If it doesn’t, so be it.”
Ayla's lips curled up, looking slightly sullen.
“I think I’ll be sad if it doesn’t work out.”
"So, let's try. Do your best. I don't know who it is, but."
“He's the one who protected me. What about you, young lady? You became precious to that haughty person who wouldn't even glance at the Princess.”
“Why do you think it was only me?”
"Yes?"
"That man, too, tried to be unique and precious to me. He tried to be needed."
Ayla stared at me, her mouth agape, a look of considerable surprise on her face. What's so surprising about that? This is unsettling. It felt like I was seeing a friend who only ever picked up trash, and I felt a surge of frustration.
"Who is that person you want to cherish? Someone who isn't married, but a normal person, right?"
In response to my question, Ayla, who is two or three years older than I, smiles brightly and innocently. Some people may appreciate her naiveté, but most believe it's because she's easy to handle.
"Because it's easy to have and easy to throw away," she answered clearly, her eyes sparkling with laughter.
“This is Frogen. This is Mastiff Argentino.”
This is crazy.
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