TWFLLYM Ch 30

Forewarning

The soft rustle of fabric filled the air.

A cloak settled onto her shoulders. Kalart had removed his own garment the moment she mentioned the chill.

She clutched the edges of the cloak with both hands, her face still flushing a deep crimson despite the cold.

Memories surged—vivid images of a day when she had worn nothing but a cloak over her bare skin.

[Roserikta] "I feel as though I should start singing."

She whispered the words.

Kalart, who had been walking with his arm draped protectively around her back to ensure she didn't feel the cloak's weight, stiffened visibly.

[Roserikta] "Your Highness......?"

[Kalart] "I don’t think that would be a good idea."

[Roserikta] "Why not?"

She stopped walking and turned to stare at him.

Whether it was the moonlight or the lingering heat of their kiss, his lips appeared redder than usual. Just looking at them made her pulse quicken.

[Kalart] "I don't have the confidence to endure it. Not this time."

[Roserikta] "Ah......"

Embarrassment flared, and she quickly averted her gaze.

Goodness. The medicine from my pharmacy is too effective for its own good.

[Roserikta] "Then I shall walk in silence."

[Kalart] "I would prefer it if you told me I didn’t have to endure it at all."

[Roserikta] "......I don't think that's possible."

[Kalart] "Is that so?"

He made no effort to hide his disappointment. For a moment, it was hard to believe he was the same man people once called a living marble statue.

[Kalart] "Well. We are still outside, after all."

[Roserikta] "......"

The fine hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.

Exactly how far did he intend to go?

She had promised to allow "everything," but a terrifying thought began to take root—his definition of "everything" might be vastly different from hers.

[Roserikta] "Your Highness. I have a question."

She hurried to change the subject. She desperately hoped she was imagining the way his gaze darkened as he stared at her neck, as if he were losing himself in the sight.

[Roserikta] "You previously said that in your eyes, only Clobell appears beautiful. Then, how do I look to you?"

She knew it was a futile question, but it was the only one she could summon in her panic.

[Kalart] "Not like Clobell."

He was an undeniably honest man. Perhaps a man like him felt no need for lies; after all, deception was the tool of those who lacked the truth.

[Roserikta] "Then how?"

[Kalart] "Similar to other people...... No, I shouldn't say that either."

[Roserikta] "Pardon?"

She had expected him to say she looked like everyone else. His actual answer caught her off guard.

[Kalart] "You are not revolting."

To prove his point, he locked his gaze onto her with unwavering intensity.

His black pupils, reflecting the moonlight, became mirrors of her own image. The familiar reflection she had seen for over twenty years stared back—ordinary, without any striking flaws, yet possessing no extraordinary beauty.

How did this version of herself appear to him?

[Kalart] "I feel no urge to look away. I have never perceived beauty in you, but it is extraordinary. Your appearance...... it draws out emotions I never knew existed. When I look at you, I want to touch you. I want to hold you. I have never felt this before."

That was enough. His words meant she was more special to him than anyone else in the world.

[Kalart] "What about you?"

It was his turn.

[Kalart] "How do I look in your eyes?"

The question felt redundant. To her, he was singular. No one in the world could ever look the way he did.

[Roserikta] "Beautiful, so much. So that it makes me feel strange just looking at you."

It feels as though the line between dreams and reality is blurring, and I find I don't care which is which.

If I stay like this, everything else will vanish. Whether I open or close my eyes, I’ll only see one person. And I think I could live with that.

[Kalart] "I see."

He let out a low chuckle as he brushed a stray lock of hair from her ear.

[Kalart] "What a pity. I cannot feel the same when I look at you."

His hand trembled slightly as his fingers brushed the curve of her ear.

[Roserikta] "Your Highness......?"

Without warning, he pulled her into a fierce embrace. The cloak crinkled and groaned against his chest.

[Kalart] "I hate my eyes. I thought I had grown used to them...... but I was wrong."

He wasn't speaking of the pain caused by the distortion or the agony of seeing every living thing as something grotesque and vile. His meaning was much simpler.

[Kalart] "I want to feel that you are beautiful when I look at you. I want to see exactly what you see. If I could, I would finally understand what you feel when you look at me."

His desire wasn't born of suffering; it was born of a longing to share a perspective with the person he loved. It was another confession.

[Kalart] "I want to know. Everything. About you."

[Roserikta] "......"

The relentless tide of his confessions made her head spin, as if she were intoxicated. She buried her burning cheek against his chest.

If only I had heard this sooner. If only I had heard this before today—the day he might stop liking me.

No...... no. If I had, the number of things I could never forget would have only grown.

It’s already so hard because there are too many; any more, and I would have overflowed and shattered.

I’m glad I’m hearing this today.

[Roserikta] "This is a secret......"

She whispered while her cheek remained pressed against him.

[Roserikta] "Clobell isn't actually that pretty. Oh, goodness—it would be a disaster if she heard me say that."

She felt him part his lips in silence, clearly wanting to ask what she meant.

[Roserikta] "Ever since she was a kitten, people said she looked grumpy. There are many cats, much prettier than her. But in my eyes, she is absolutely adorable. It isn't just about her face; it’s the way she acts. She is my cat, my family, and the only one of her kind. A 'pretty' cat is just one of many pretty things to me, but Clobell is Clobell. No other cat could ever replace her. That is why......"

A low exhale brushed against the top of her head.

[Roserikta] "Even if I don’t appear beautiful to you, the fact that you called me an 'unprecedented existence' makes me very happy."

His reply came only after a long, drawn-out silence.

[Kalart] "You even find a way to give meaning to my broken sight."

[Roserikta] "......"

[Kalart] "That is why you are the only one for me."

He gently held her head, forcing her to meet his gaze. His pupils were darker and deeper than usual.

In that moment, she realized her own face, reflected in his eyes, looked like someone who desperately wanted to be kissed.

---

The long walk finally came to an end.

Because neither wanted to say goodbye, they had lingered until long past midnight.

Only when she let out a small, involuntary wince from her aching feet did he finally mention heading back.

It remained a secret that the royal guards following from a distance wept tears of relief when they saw the Prince finally turn around.

[Roserikta] "Whew......"

After returning to her bedroom, washing, and changing her clothes, she sat on the floor by the edge of the bed.

While smaller and less ornate than the Trifolim Palace, the room’s layout was nearly identical.

[Roserikta] "It isn't as bad as I thought."

Her soft, melodic voice drifted through the quiet room where the two cats had already fallen fast asleep.

She slipped off her house shoes and gently poked the blister formed by the friction of her boots.

[Roserikta] "I should have endured it longer. Then we could have stayed together just a little bit more."

She giggled as she recalled the end of their walk.

No matter how much Eaton or the guards complained about the lateness or the cold night air, Kalart had ignored them. Yet he hadn't missed the single, accidental "ouch" that escaped her lips.

Her insistence that she was fine had been useless.

[Kalart] "You injured your ankle before. You must be careful with your feet."

He had ignored her explanation that a blister was nothing like a sprained ankle. Just as he had done when she first hurt herself, he personally removed her shoes to inspect the wound. Then, he scooped her up and carried her back to the castle.

She wondered how she had survived the experience without fainting. Her breath had been short, her head light, and even while resting in his arms, her heart had hammered as if she had been the one running.

Kalart had been so tender, constantly asking if the slight swaying of his stride hurt her, that her lips had gone dry from the sheer thrill of it.

When she licked her parched lips, he leaned down to dampen them with his own.

He had set her down at the door of her bedchamber, leaving her with a long, lingering gaze that served as his farewell.

It was a perfect night. If she were asked on her deathbed if there was a single moment she wished to relive, she would choose this night without hesitation. A night she wished would never end.

Sitting with her back against the bed, she gently stroked her injured foot.

She had no intention of using Axaca powder on this wound. She wanted it to heal slowly—very slowly. She wanted the memory of how she got this injury to remain vivid for as long as possible.

Just as she was thinking the pain wasn't so bad, a sound reached her ears.

Knock, knock.

[Roserikta] "......?"

She strained her ears. She hadn't misheard it.

Knock, knock.

She stood up on bare feet and cautiously turned the handle.

[Roserikta] "Who is it?"

Her heart dropped when she saw a flash of brilliant silver hair through the crack in the door.

[Kalart] "Did I wake you?"

He was dressed in a comfortable indoor robe and slippers. His slightly damp fringe suggested he had just washed before heading to bed.

[Roserikta] "No. Why are you......"

[Kalart] "I couldn't sleep. I thought you might still be awake, and the thought of the remaining time going to waste became unbearable."

He was telling her that tonight wasn't over yet.

He gripped the handle from the other side. A small pull would swing the door wide. Yet he knew it wouldn't open without her permission.

He traced the gold plating of the handle with a lingering, almost pained touch, as if he were touching the person on the other side.

[Kalart] "This will be the final permission I ask for tonight. May I open this door?"

She never intended to refuse.

[Roserikta] "Only if you promise me one thing."

She whispered through the gap.

[Roserikta] "You must stay quiet. The cats are sleeping."

He grinned and nodded.

The door opened silently. He stepped inside with hushed footsteps and immediately pressed his lips to her forehead. When he pulled away without making a sound, she nodded in approval.

Hand in hand, the two of them settled in front of the fireplace, just as they had once before. Even without words, the time passed with profound satisfaction because they were together.

Kalart gently stroked her hand, occasionally lifting it to press his lips to the back of her palm.

Whenever the sound of a kiss broke the silence, they both flinched, shrinking their shoulders before sharing a silent, wide-mouthed laugh.

As dawn approached and her head grew heavy, he guided her to rest against his shoulder.

Sleep well.

Instead of speaking, he traced the words onto the skin of her neck with his fingertip.

She closed her eyes and nodded.

You too, Your Highness.

Even without the voice that had once charmed him, he looked at her with the same gaze—as if he were beholding a wondrous, entirely new creature.

He watched her sleeping face with infinite tenderness until he, too, eventually fell asleep.

Clobellina’s soft snoring warmed the room like the glowing embers of the hearth.

---

[Lafitte] "Surely did Your Highness sleep...... Gah!"

The nonsensical sentence tumbled from his mouth. He was trying to ask if the Prince had slept in the adjacent room, but the inquiry ended in a sharp groan as he bit his tongue again.

[Kalart] "Ah. You’re already here."

Kalart, just entering the empty bedroom, frowned slightly.

There was a private door connecting the Crown Prince’s chambers to the Crown Princess’s, and that was the path he had taken.

He had assumed no one would notice, but the Chamberlain—a man whose diligence was second to none—had discovered the empty bed while bringing in water for the morning wash.

Kalart scanned the room. The Chamberlain was alone. Only one mouth needed to be silenced.

[Kalart] "It is as you suspect. I do not wish for rumors to spread, so remain silent."

Crack.

He nonchalantly stretched his stiff shoulders. He looked so natural that he appeared as though he had only just rolled out of bed.

[Lafitte] "Your—Your Highness."

Lafitte’s face turned bright red.

This wasn't a matter to be handled so casually. This was a crisis. If an unmarried Crown Prince sleeping with a maid wasn't a crisis, nothing in the Empire was.

[Lafitte] "With all due respect, the person in question is......"

[Kalart] "I told you to be quiet."

The wrinkles in his brow vanished. He looked down at the Chamberlain with the same cold, indifferent expression he usually wore for others.

Perhaps due to his sculptural features, the mere act of erasing his emotion wrapped Lafitte in a chilling aura of intimidation.

[Kalart] "Is there a Chamberlain in this palace who cannot understand a simple order?"

Lafitte’s hearing was perfectly fine. It was his loyalty that was excessive.

[Lafitte] "B-but Your Highness, this could become a scandal. In the future......"

As the future benevolent ruler of the Empire whose name would grace the history books, his master could not have a smudge on his reputation.

The rumor that he had a tawdry habit of dallying with maids would be a permanent stain, and Lafitte was determined not to let that happen.

[Kalart] "A scandal?"

A chill crept into his voice as he repeated the word.

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