IWAPUF 15

It was like a splash of cold water—sudden, jarring, and utterly sobering.
Habit is a frightening thing.
Years of trying to read his expression, of treading lightly around his moods, had molded me into
someone small and hesitant. But I was no longer that girl—no longer the one who anxiously
sought his approval, who clung to his presence like air. I didn’t need his love. I didn’t even want
to be near him.
There was nothing about him to fear anymore.
I met his gaze, steady and unflinching.
“If I say yes… that your presence makes me uncomfortable—would these meetings stop?”
“Hah.”
He laughed, the sound clipped and incredulous, his expression one of utter disbelief. Then he fell
silent, his golden eyes settling darkly on mine.
The pressure in the air shifted. A quiet force radiated from him, pressing down like weightless
stone. I clenched the fabric of my skirt in my fist to stop my hands from shaking.
“I am your betrothed,” he said at last. “You do understand that?”
“Engagements can be broken, Your Highness.”
His expression didn’t change. He merely stared at me, as blank and pale as wax in the midday sun.
Beautiful. Lifeless.
Finally, he moved. Slowly, he leaned back into his chair, long frame reclining with a languid grace.
One leg crossed over the other. It was a simple shift, but it changed everything. The ease of his
posture didn’t hide the undercurrent of tension that coiled in the space between us.
“Do you even understand what you’re saying?”
He smiled.
It was exquisite. Precise. A smile painted by an artist’s hand.
And yet, facing him, I felt a bead of cold sweat slide down my spine. Despite the elegance, it felt
like a blade being pressed to my throat.
My mouth was dry. The half-finished tea sat within reach, but I couldn’t bring myself to move.
“I know exactly what I’m saying,” I replied, voice thin but resolute.
He said nothing.
Instead, his gaze swept over me slowly, like a surgeon assessing a specimen. It wasn’t very comfortable—
like being laid bare and dissected under a sterile light. I curled my fingers into fists to keep from
shaking.
“Are you saying… You want to end our engagement?”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t love you.”
A soft, clear laugh escaped him. It rang like glass.
“I didn’t expect you to be so amusing,” he said, his tone somewhere between curiosity and
contempt. “You have a talent for toying with people.”
“I’m not joking.”
His laughter stopped abruptly.
A slow, deliberate smirk tugged at one corner of his lips.
“Love, is it…? I can’t tell if you’re naïve or just pretending to be.”
In royal and noble circles, marrying for love was rare—almost laughable. Marriage wasn’t about
people. It was about families. Alliances. Assets.
I was born into nobility. Raised with privilege. A marriage to the Crown Prince was what any girl
in my position would have been raised to want. But I knew now—too clearly—what waited at the
end of that path.
And I didn’t want it.
After our engagement was announced, I’d thought endlessly about how to escape. No matter how
Many times I turned it over, the conclusion was always the same: there was no way out.
Not unless she reappeared. The woman he had loved.
I’d even considered waiting for her return and begging the Emperor to strip me of my position
once he fell for her again.
That had been one of the more realistic plans.
But the best solution?
Not marrying him in the first place.
Life was too short. I didn’t want to waste mine in a story where I already knew the ending.
“My dream is to meet someone I love and grow old together—quietly, peacefully.”
A simple dream. One Beonne of the past had never even known was possible, but one I—Lee Jia
—knew was very, very real. To be loved, cherished, and chosen—not for titles or lineage, but
simply for who I was.
“Does the person by your side have to be me, Your Highness?”
His lips still held a trace of a smile. He looked at me as one might watch a clever little pet.
But I wasn’t done.
“This engagement was arranged to suit certain conditions. If there’s someone else out there who
suits you better, wouldn’t that be a win for both of us?”
He had the perfect pedigree for a future Emperor. His noble lineage, wealth, and influence—he lacked
nothing. But he wasn’t the only one.
The woman he once loved had come from a background as illustrious as mine. The difference had
only been timing. And that—more than anything—was our tragedy.
“Perhaps you could search again. There might be someone out there with my credentials and a
better temperament.”
“There is no one more suitable than you, Beonne.”
His voice dipped low, sweet as honey, curling through the air like a whispered vow. His eyes
curved with his smile—bright and gentle.
But his gaze was cold.
So cold it burned.
“You’re certain of that?”
I would fight this with everything I had. I didn’t care how it looked or what people said.
I no longer had any reason to try to win his favor.
I’m not the same girl I was before.
“If you like, I can help you find the perfect match.”
“Ha… Fine,” he said. “Let’s say, just for argument’s sake, someone like that exists. So what?”
So what? You marry her, and I get my freedom! Isn’t it obvious?!
I opened my mouth to say just that—but he raised a hand, silencing me.
“We’ve already had our engagement ceremony,” he said calmly. “You are already my fianc
ée.”
“But—”
His hand moved toward me.
I froze.
I forgot what I was about to say.
His fingers touched my face, slow and deliberate. He cupped my cheek as though it were the most
A natural thing in the world.
“There’s a simpler way, you know.”
He leaned in.
I tried to pull away, but his grip was firm—unyielding. My back hit the carriage wall. I couldn’t
escape.
“Fall in love with me, Beonne.”
His breath was warm, tinged with the cool sweetness of spearmint. His lips drew closer.
The carriage door shut. A moment later, it began to move.
I slowly uncurled my clenched hand.
Beneath my palm, tiny crescent-shaped marks from my nails had broken the skin. Blood beaded in
the hollows.
At the last second, I’d managed to turn my face away.
He hadn’t tried to stop me. As though he hadn’t meant to kiss me at all.
When I raised my hand to slap him, he caught it easily. Effortlessly.
Then he lifted it to his lips.
Even as he pressed a kiss to the back of my hand, his golden eyes never left my face.
Not for a single second.
A hunter, when prey runs, will always give chase. That is instinct. And I… I’m quite the capable
hunter. So I suggest you don’t provoke me, my Beonne.
It had been a warning—unmistakable, cold, and deliberate.
The Crown Prince I once knew had always been composed, gentle. There was a softness to him, a
warmth. He smiled with quiet grace, spoke in low, respectful tones. But today… today he felt like
someone else entirely. He wasn’t the man who once looked at her with honeyed eyes, nor the man
who treated me with polite detachment.
No—he was someone different altogether.
The carriage came to a stop before the Eliont estate.
But I didn’t move.
Couldn’t.
I sat frozen, a tangle of confusion and disquiet curling in my chest. I’d never expected him to
agree easily to the dissolution of our engagement. Of course not. He hadn’t met her yet, and in
this present reality, I was still the most advantageous match he could have.
If anything, I should have been more surprised if he’d let me go without a fight.
I’d assumed he’d be offended. Maybe even angry.
But that cold, predatory presence—
I hadn’t imagined anything like that.
He had looked at me the way a falcon watches a rabbit—calculating, waiting for the moment to
strike.
“Prey, huh…”
I almost laughed.
Today, I’d been reduced to nothing more than prey before him.
Trapped, cornered, frozen in fear like a defenseless herbivore standing before its natural predator.
How humiliating.
The worst part? I hadn’t even managed to land a slap across that infuriatingly handsome face.
If my hand had been caught—then I should have kicked him. Something.
And yet I’d done nothing. Because this body—this weak, sluggish body—couldn’t react fast
enough.
I’d done little so far to change the course of my fate.
I’d been… passive. Watching my own story unfold like a play I couldn’t leave.
I didn’t want to live frantically, recklessly, just to resist the future. I’d hoped everything might
change quietly, naturally. I didn’t want the mess of trying to force my destiny onto a different
path.
The plan had been simple: wait for him to fall in love again, and then step aside.
Let her take my place.
Find peace. A partner. A quiet life of mutual respect. Maybe even—love.
All that, so long as I didn’t fall for him.
But the man in that carriage had lit a fire in me. A challenge. A provocation.
I wasn’t going to play the obedient little prey anymore.
He needs to learn that hunters aren’t the only ones capable of biting back.
I shoved the carriage door open and jumped out.
The coachman flinched in surprise.
I didn’t stop. I stormed into the manor, heels clicking sharp and certain across the marble floor.
“Young Lady, welcome back—”
Mari approached quickly to take my coat, far more polished than she’d ever been years ago. The
bumbling girl she once was had vanished completely.
Four years ago, nearly every servant in House Eliont had been replaced. And at the center of that
upheaval was the woman who’d raised me—Nanny.
The first time Nanny laid eyes on Lant, she hadn’t even tried to hide her scorn. She believed—
fiercely, blindly—that the Marchioness had taken her own life because of Lant. Because of his
existence.
And knowing her heart, I had said nothing. I hadn’t told her to treat him kindly. I was content if
she simply ignored him.
After the Marchioness’s death, Nanny had rarely left my side. She followed my every step,
overseeing every detail of my life. I found it suffocating, yes—but I tolerated it. Because I knew
her devotion came from grief.
She wasn’t a kind person, but she wasn’t cruel either.
She’d raised me when my own parents couldn’t be bothered. And even after I became Empress,
she had stayed with me—right until the day I was stripped of my crown and imprisoned.
I’d meant to take her with me this time…
But that night changed everything.
It had been a strange night. I’d woken before dawn, startled from sleep.
The sky was still deep with night, hours before the sun would rise. I couldn’t go back to sleep, and
boredom gnawed at me.
So, on a whim, I decided to visit Lant.
His room had recently been moved from the annex to the main house—on my orders. Though
thanks to Nanny’s interference, it was still far from my own.
Still, it was close enough. And at that hour, he would surely be sleeping. I didn’t mind. Just seeing
him would be enough.
I tiptoed toward his door, careful not to make a sound. If Nanny found out I was visiting Lant,
she’d throw a fit.
She hated when I spent time with him. Always found an excuse to pull me away.
Because of her, I hadn’t seen my little puppy in weeks.
I’d been looking forward to this.
But what I found instead—
That joy turned to horror in an instant.
My sweet Lant—my quiet, gentle little boy—was surrounded by a circle of maids and servants.
They weren’t hurting him physically, no. But they were tearing him apart.
Mocking. Prodding. Whispering cruel things in his ear. Denying him sleep. Denying him peace. It
was psychological warfare—and he was only a child.
I tore the manor apart.
I screamed, loud enough to wake the entire estate. Even the Marquess and the butler came
running.
The culprits knelt trembling on the floor. When questioned, they cried that they were “just
following orders.”
And they all pointed to Nanny.
She didn’t deny it. In fact, she turned on me.
“You can’t do this to me, My Lady. How can you take his side?”
“You know why the Marchioness died!”
She spat every word like poison.
Then she turned her gaze on Lant—so venomous it could’ve killed. I took his trembling hand in
mine.
“How can you protect a bastard like that?”
She stared at me with bloodshot eyes, radiating betrayal.
Even then, she clung to the same delusion. That Lant had killed the Marchioness. That if he
became heir, I would be cast aside. That his mother might return as the Marquess’s new wife.
She fed me that poison for years—plugged my ears, clouded my judgment.
Back then, I didn’t even know Lant. And I hated him anyway.
I believed that hurting him would protect me. That keeping him beneath me would keep me safe.
I thought Nanny would show restraint. That as long as I didn’t give her permission, she wouldn’
t dare touch him.
I was wrong.
She crossed a line I didn’t know she was capable of crossing.
And for the first time, the Marquess stepped in.
He’d always been indifferent to the internal affairs of the household. But this time, he took the
reins.
All the rot hidden beneath the surface—the fraud, the mistreatment, the misuse of funds—was
exposed.
The Marquess didn’t hesitate.
He cut them all loose.
Some were fired. Many were arrested. His judgment was swift and cold.
Nanny was the last to go.
“You’ll regret this, My Lady,” she told me as she left. It was the last thing she ever said to me.
I didn’t have the heart to send her to prison. The Marquess wasn’t pleased, but he respected my
decision.
So she left.
And never returned.
“Young Lady?”
Mari’s voice pulled me back.
Most of the old staff had been dismissed that night. The butler had handpicked and retrained a new
team. Mari was one of them.
“Where’s Lant?” I asked.