I couldn’t believe what I’d just heard.
-When are you coming back next?
It couldn’t be Prince Luciano saying something like that—not him, of all people.
First my stomach acted up, and now my ears must be failing me too.
Maybe Espin actually had some incurable disease in the backstory, causing problems all over her body until she died young.
That would explain why she never appeared in the original story.
There was that trend of terminal illness narratives for a while, right?
I tried to rationalize this absurd situation in my head.
“Answer?”
I might have kept trying, if Prince Luciano, standing before me like a hallucination, hadn’t pressed for a response.
He was clearly right there in front of me, yet it all felt strangely unreal.
“Uh, what did you say?”
I blurted out dumbly, without thinking.
At that, Prince Luciano pressed his lips together tightly.
Was that a look of dissatisfaction?
Today, of all days, I seemed to be witnessing a whole range of reactions from him.
“I asked when you’re coming back next.”
This really was the strangest day.
No matter how I thought about it, it felt like I was dreaming.
Even after blinking furiously, Prince Luciano stood there perfectly intact, with his picture-perfect features.
Was he seriously curious about when I’d visit again?
“Why?”
“……”
When I asked, he clamped his lips shut once more.
If this had been before the muffin incident, I might have gleefully assumed he’d finally fallen for my sunny charm offensive.
But no matter how I looked at it, that wasn’t the case now.
“You’re not actually wanting to see me again, Your Highness.”
“……”
He didn’t outright deny it.
I’d half-expected as much, so there was no real disappointment.
“Then why ask about the next meeting? If you have business, just say it now.”
I gazed at him steadily, and he merely worked his lips silently for a long while.
I waited patiently, composed.
After dragging it out considerably, he finally spoke, slowly.
“Because… it’s my responsibility.”
‘Huh? Responsibility for what, all of a sudden?’
To me, it came completely out of left field.
Unfortunately, I couldn’t make sense of his guilt-tinged words.
“What responsibility?”
“Everything that’s happened to you.”
He was acting as if some major catastrophe had befallen me.
Had something big happened to me without my knowledge?
“What happened to me?”
When I countered with that, his eyes widened slightly.
His surprised reaction, in turn, baffled me.
The only “big thing” that had happened to me was vomiting in front of him.
“Are you saying this because I messed up and collapsed in front of you, Your Highness?”
But was there any reason for him to take responsibility for that?
Sure, I’d fainted, so he might feel concerned, but forcing myself to eat had been my own choice.
I didn’t want to shift the blame onto him.
“That’s part of it…”
“Part of it” implied there was more?
“I’m really clueless here. What happened to me?”
“……You really seem unaffected.”
He muttered, sounding faintly deflated.
The way he said it made it sound like something truly had occurred.
No, seriously—what had happened to me?
‘It’s my life, so how can I not know about it?’
As I scratched my cheek in confusion, he fell silent again.
Anyway, the situation was clear.
For whatever reason, he felt a sense of responsibility toward me.
That’s why he wanted to keep meeting.
Which meant, if he didn’t feel that responsibility, there’d be no reason to meet at all.
“I don’t know what you’re worried about, but I’m fine. You don’t need to feel responsible for me, Your Highness.”
I wrapped it up neatly.
I’d assured him there was no need for unnecessary guilt, but somehow his reaction felt off.
“Really now…”
He eyed me strangely for a moment, then muttered again.
‘If you have something to say, just say it outright.’
His constant mumbling was starting to frustrate me.
Still, it was a relief to understand the reason for today’s invitation.
I’d been weighed down by his sudden change in demeanor, but if it stemmed from guilt and responsibility, then assuring him I was fine should resolve everything.
With all my questions answered, it felt like a knot in my stomach was loosening, and my mind eased.
“Well then, since there’s nothing for you to take responsibility for, I guess I can just go. Could you close the door?”
My heart felt lighter, and without realizing it, my voice came out cheerful.
Even to my own ears, it was the most upbeat tone I’d used all day.
At that, Prince Luciano’s expression turned peculiar.
A mix of incredulity and exasperation, perhaps.
Then, with a sullen face, he tossed out bluntly,
“You’re acting so differently from before.”
Was that meant for me to hear?
‘Who are you to criticize someone’s attitude?’
And then,
“Whether my attitude’s changed or not, it doesn’t matter, does it?”
‘Because I don’t need to impress you anymore.’
At my unabashed words, he opened his mouth in surprise, then closed it again.
What? Why?
‘It’s over between you and me.’
As I sulked stubbornly, his expression shifted.
“Just a while ago, you were desperate because you couldn’t visit.”
Now he looked resentful.
It was true I’d clung to him like that, but hearing it phrased this way soured my mood.
You were the one who rejected me first!
“Back then, I wanted to get close.”
“And now you don’t, I suppose.”
‘Did he always talk like this?’
His follow-up words left me bewildered.
On top of that, his face seemed downright sulky.
Hold on!
Was this one of those clichés where he only felt regret once the other person pulled away?
‘I’d hate if that’s what it is.’
“Yes. A year’s worth of effort is plenty. One-sided pursuits get exhausting.”
I held back from listing out how hard I’d tried over the past year, how much he’d hurt my feelings, and instead said it haughtily.
Was that a bit arrogant?
He glared at me sharply.
“You’re wrong.”
“Pardon?”
“A year isn’t enough. Try harder. See you the day after tomorrow at two.”
The door slammed shut with a bang.
While I stood there gaping, unable to close my mouth, the carriage started moving.
Through the window, Prince Luciano’s persistent gaze clung to me.
‘What was that?’
Even though I’d experienced it firsthand, I couldn’t comprehend what had just happened.
His reactions today left me utterly dumbfounded.
The responsibility part—I could understand that.
His character was set up to have a strong sense of duty, after all.
‘But what about that last bit?’
Why suddenly tell me to try harder? It was bizarre.
No matter how I thought about it, it felt like a sudden acceleration out of nowhere.
Could it be the cliché where the female lead starts distancing herself, and only then does lingering attachment kick in?
A belated activation of the protagonist buff.
But if so, his response didn’t feel romantic at all.
There wasn’t even a hint of that.
He did seem regretful, but it didn’t strike me as stemming from liking me.
“Oh well, whatever.”
After mulling over various thoughts, I cleared my mind.
Racking my brain wouldn’t reveal what he was thinking anyway, so I decided to take it easy.
* * *
Following the one-sided appointment, I visited the prince’s palace again and stared blankly at the teacup set before me.
“Drink.”
When I just gazed at it, he even kindly urged me.
This time, I sipped the tea slowly.
It was brewed just right, the fragrant aroma filling my mouth.
I could actually taste the delicious tea.
“How peculiar.”
The dream felt so realistic.
“What’s peculiar?”
No, wait—having him initiate conversation like this made it feel unreal instead?
“Is this not a dream?”
“It’s not a dream.”
My mutterings kept getting responses.
But if this wasn’t a dream, it was all too strange.
“Then why are you serving me tea? You hate eating with others.”
After all, I was being treated to tea by Prince Luciano for the second time.
I asked out of genuine curiosity, but he narrowed his brows slightly, as if the question displeased him.
“I served you last time too.”
“That’s true?”
“Then it’s not strange—why react like that?”
Was it? Not strange at all?
No, it was strange.
Hadn’t he stonewalled me so awkwardly when I’d brought muffins, making me feel embarrassed?
Yet now he treated it as no big deal, so I started feeling like the odd one for questioning it.
But at the moment, Prince Luciano was lounging relaxed, sipping his tea elegantly.
As if spending time like this with me was the most natural thing.
‘If it was this easy, what was all my suffering last year for?’
And what about that mortifying disaster of a mistake not long ago, when I nearly died of shame?
Come to think of it, the sheer absurdity of it all meant that even facing him now, I wasn’t dwelling on that blunder.
Bewilderment overshadowed the embarrassment.
This peaceful interlude felt so eerie and unfair that I could only sip my tea in silence.
Before long, another stretch of quiet settled in.
Last time, it had felt somewhat comfortable, but today my mind was uneasy.
Since I was the one with regrets, I decided to break the ice first.
“Um, Your Highness.”
“What?”
See? Responding immediately like that was weird too.
This nagging sense of dissonance had been building.
But that wasn’t the point right now.
“What exactly did you want to take responsibility for?”
After our last meeting, I’d pondered what could possibly make him feel guilty toward me.
But no matter how much I racked my brain, I came up empty.
That’s why I’d accepted today’s invitation—to resolve that curiosity.
Prince Luciano set down his teacup.
His red eyes slowly traced over me.
If gazes had texture, this one would feel sticky and persistent.
“Didn’t you say before that there’s nothing for me to take responsibility for?”
Instead of answering, he countered with a question.
After thinking it over, there really didn’t seem to be anything I’d blame him for.
“Yes.”
“Then, isn’t that the end of it?”
“Pardon?”
“If you think you’ve suffered no harm, there’s no need for you to know.”
“What kind of…”
I barely swallowed the “nonsense” that almost followed.
I’d given up on the sunny female lead act, and my temper nearly slipped out.
Taking a deep breath, I chose my words calmly.
“But from your perspective, it sounds like I did suffer some harm.”
“So you’re saying you didn’t suffer any harm.”
He spouted these infuriating words with a perfectly straight face.
“No…!”
I was on the verge of snapping at him for making me repeat myself.
It was a trivial detail, but that’s when I belatedly noticed something different about him.
I recalled our past conversations.
-You…
-Not everyone can be friends. Go to the others who’ll accept you.
-What makes you think I’d trust you enough to eat your food?
And then today’s exchanges.
-If you think you’ve suffered no harm, there’s no need for you to know.
-So you’re saying you didn’t suffer any harm.
…The way he addressed me had changed.
