IWAPUF 33

“Your Highness hardly seems the type to care about his fiancée’s reputation.”
If he had been the sort of man who fretted over such things, I would never have been able to marry
him back then. The Beonne of that time acted recklessly, heedless of her reputation. Drawing
attention on the bustling streets meant nothing to me. The only person who mattered was the
Crown Prince. The gazes of others held no value, and the rumors they spread were beneath my
notice.
With such an attitude, my reputation plummeted day by day. Not only did people exaggerate the
events surrounding me in the worst possible light, but they fabricated stories about things I hadn’t
even done. A rumor about me being in the arms of another man? That was nothing compared to
the rest.
Back then, the Crown Prince knew of my tarnished reputation yet showed no reaction. He must
have heard the gossip swirling around me, but his demeanor toward me never wavered. He didn’t
scold me or utter a single word of reproach.
At the time, I believed his indifference stemmed from trust. I felt a surge of happiness, convinced
that he wasn’t swayed by rumors and believed in my love for him.
But now I know the truth. He simply had no interest in Beonne as a person. My behavior, the
rumors that trailed me—none of it mattered to him as long as my background posed no issue.
So why, after all this time, does he suddenly care about my reputation? I can’t think of any other
reason for his anger.
“Why are we talking about your reputation?” he asked, his voice sharp.
“Isn’t that why you’re upset? Because of your fiancée’s reputation?”
He frowned, his face etched with deep displeasure.
“You think I’m angry because of your reputation?”
“I can’t think of any other reason.”
“You really…”
His face contorted, and he fell silent, roughly running a hand through his hair. I didn’t want to
dwell on why he was angry anymore.
He isn’t mine. I already have my hands full protecting those who belong to me. I have no interest
in wasting energy on someone who isn’t. Such meddling isn’t in my nature—not even a speck of
it.
“What do you intend to do about Evan?” I asked.
Evan is one of my people, a gift from my grandfather. Even as I was slung over the Crown Prince’
s shoulder and carried away, Evan stood surrounded by knights, bleeding, swords at his throat.
Though he is the head of the Pison trading company, he’s still a commoner. Blocking the Crown
Prince’s path was reason enough for punishment.
“Evan…” The Crown Prince’s lips twisted into a smirk. “From the way you say his name, it
seems you’re even closer than what I just witnessed.”
“Of course we’re close. Evan is one of my people.”
I had no intention of openly declaring myself the true head of the Pison trading company, but
neither would I deny my connection to them. Just as they vowed to protect me, I am determined to
protect those who are mine.
“Are you seriously telling your fiancé that another man is ‘your person’?”
The Crown Prince leaned in close, his presence looming.
“I warned you not to provoke me, Bii,” he growled, low and feral, like a beast. His golden eyes
blazed with fury. His reaction threw me into confusion.
Back then, he treated me with polite affection but never once displayed such raw emotion.
Absurdly, he now seemed to be acting like a jealous man.
“Do you love me?” I asked bluntly.
He froze, his body tensing. Frowning, he opened his mouth. “What do you mean?”
“Exactly what I said. Do you love me?”
I stared into his eyes. The golden irises, which moments ago had burned with rage, were now
clouded with confusion.
“If this isn’t about my reputation, and you don’t love me, then why are you so angry?”
He didn’t answer. His lips pressed into a hard, unyielding line, refusing to part. I let out a bitter
laugh.
Then and now, he’s never lied to me, even if he’s hidden the truth. His silence was his answer.
I never held any expectations to begin with. I’ve known for a long time that he doesn’t love me.
It’s hardly news. Yet, despite that, a dull, gnawing pain pulsed in my chest.
“I told you before, my dream is to meet someone I love, to live happily with them forever,” I
said.
The carriage began to slow. Through the window, the scenery looked strikingly familiar. I slowly
rose to my feet. The Crown Prince watched me but made no move.
“Didn’t you tell me to love you?” I continued.
My reflection gleamed in his golden eyes, still murky with confusion. Somewhere along the way,
the tie binding my hair had come loose, leaving it in disarray. Back then, I could never have
imagined showing myself to him in such a state. I was always perfectly put together, from head to
toe, every time we met. Thinking of that version of myself made me laugh. He never cared about
my appearance or my character. I was the one blinded by love, deafened by stubbornness.
“I won’t pursue a painful love. I want to meet someone who loves only me, who cherishes only
me, to bear his children and live happily for the rest of my life.”
The carriage came to a complete stop. His eyes still held my reflection. In them, I saw myself
smiling brightly, my hair a wild mess, like some madwoman.
“That’s why it can’t be you.”
He didn’t move, not even as I opened the carriage door. This was the end of whatever tied us
together. After saying this much, his pride would keep him from approaching me again. And if he
stayed away, I could endure the lingering ache in my heart, like dregs left at the bottom of a cup.
I stepped out of the carriage, my feet touching the ground. The sun had nearly vanished, leaving
only a sliver above the horizon. The red sunset glowed with breathtaking beauty.
“Ha!” I let out a sharp breath.
The moment I felt something brush against my wrist, my body was spun around in an instant. A
hard surface pressed against my back, and something soft forced its way past my lips, invading my
mouth. Golden eyes, blazing with intensity, filled my vision.
I struggled to break free from the Crown Prince’s grip, but he didn’t budge. Instead, he seized
both my wrists in one hand, his other arm wrapping around my waist, pulling me even closer. His
soft tongue roughly explored my teeth. I tried to turn my head to escape, but it was futile. He
ravaged my mouth with relentless persistence.
The Crown Prince gave me no room to breathe, not even a moment’s reprieve. It was as if he
meant to steal every breath I had. Tears welled in my eyes. His audacious behavior infuriated me,
but more than that, I was sickened by my own powerlessness against his strength. In defiance, I bit
down hard on his tongue. The metallic taste of blood flooded my mouth.
Unfazed by the pain, he lingered, stirring my mouth a few more times before finally pulling away.
The moment his grip on my wrists loosened, I swung my hand and struck his cheek. His head
snapped to the side, a thin red line blooming across his pale skin—a mark left by the ring on my
finger.
“Ha… ha…” I glared at him, my breath coming in ragged gasps. The sharp tang of blood
mingled with the fresh air that rushed into my lungs.
The Crown Prince, head still turned, spat onto the ground, blood mixing with saliva as it hit the
earth. He touched the wound on his cheek and slowly faced me. His ghostly pale face, framed by
silver hair and streaked with crimson blood, gave him an almost otherworldly, dangerous allure.
“For a kiss with my fiancée, that’s quite the repayment. Should I expect to risk my life if I try
anything more?”
His blood-stained lips curled into a twisted smile. Stripped of his usual decorum, he exuded a
perilous aura. My instincts screamed at me to stop provoking him, but the fire of emotion raging
in my chest refused to let me yield.
“I have no intention of doing anything more with Your Highness,” I said, my glare carrying the
unspoken threat that I’d rather die than let him force me.
Invisible sparks seemed to crackle between us.
“Is it because of him?” he growled, stepping closer.
I instinctively wanted to step back but barely managed to hold my ground. The Crown Prince was
menacing, and he made no effort to conceal it.
“Did he whisper sweet words of love in your ear?”
“Evan isn’t like—”
“Evan. Evan. Evan!” he bellowed, cutting me off.
“You address me, your fiancé, as ‘Your Highness’ for over four years, but his name rolls off
your tongue so easily.” His voice was low, laced with venom, as if he’d tear Evan apart if he
stood before him.
“From the beginning, you’ve been like this. You never showed me the courtesy others so readily
offer, not even a hint of curiosity. As if you wanted nothing to do with me.”
His voice dropped to a whisper, but the emotions within it were raw and ferocious.
“You laugh freely for him, but never for me. And that’s not all—you flinch at my touch, yet you
rest so calmly in his arms.”
His golden eyes glittered with fury.
“Is it just me you treat so coldly? Or is he the special one?”
His behavior baffled me. He doesn’t love me. He didn’t answer when I asked if he did. Yet now,
he acted as though he were jealous of Evan. He grabbed my chin, and I swatted his arm away.
“You’re always like this,” he said. “No matter how hard I try, you won’t let me get even an
inch closer. Do you have any idea how maddening that is?”
There was a bitter edge to his tone, as if he were claiming my actions had wounded him. It made
no sense. Why would my rejection hurt him? To him, I was nothing—then and now.
“I don’t understand why Your Highness is acting this way.”
“Do you really not know? Or are you just pretending?”
There was only one word to describe his behavior, but it was a word that could never exist
between us.
I’ve seen him in love before. The way he looked at her was gentle, tender—not the fierce, burning
gaze he now directed at me.
“Is it your pride?” I asked.
“What?”
“Are you upset because I, someone you thought belonged to you, keep slipping out of your grasp,
wounding your pride?”
It was the only explanation I could muster. He doesn’t love me. Back then, when I craved his love
so desperately, he offered not a shred of it. There’s no reason he’d love me now.
Even though he clearly doesn’t love me, he’s angry because I was in another man’s arms. That
leaves only one conclusion.
Possessiveness. He must feel a newfound sense of ownership because I, someone he considered
his, am pulling away.
“My possession? You? Ha!”
He slammed his fist against the carriage wall behind me, the faint vibration reverberating through
my back. Caging me between his arms, he lowered his head to meet my gaze.
“Not once have I thought of you as my possession. If I had, I wouldn’t be this anxious.”
The red sunset reflected in his golden eyes, like flames flickering within them. My reflection was
clear in their burning depths.
“Do you even know how others see you?” he asked.
“Why should I care?”
“As expected, you never disappoint.”
He reached out, brushing my hair back. His long, pale fingers wove through my golden-brown
locks, which caught the light of the sunset and glowed red.
“Cold and unyielding, my fiancée,” he said, a bitter yet somehow desperate smile tugging at his
lips, in stark contrast to the fire in his eyes.
“You always draw a line, raising your thorns. You don’t even care about the feelings of those
you push away.”
He lowered his gaze, lifting his fingers still entwined with my hair. The strands gleamed red in the
fading light.
“It’s been five years since we were engaged, and yet, I’m still a stranger to you.”