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He is incredibly busy right now. He doesn't have the luxury to rush to this castle just to see you. He chose a letter instead of meeting you face-to-face. Knowing that obvious fact, are you really going to be childishly upset?
‘That’s not it! I wouldn’t feel this way if there had been no contact at all. The fact that he contacted me is the problem. Rather, I...’
An anxiety sprouting from deep within my heart whispers.
I know. You're afraid that his rejection is contained in this letter, aren't you?
You've become afraid not of the letter, but of Valentin.
You're afraid of the reason why he, who expresses his love with his entire body, cannot give you certainty with a single word. You're terrified that the reason is because he cannot choose me...
‘Why can’t Valentin choose me?’
I know Libertan is the problem. But he could have just asked me to wait. Waiting is the thing I am most confident in.
Countless images of myself being rejected by Valentin played out in my head. That momentary pain was so agonizing that I eventually rushed out of the bedroom without even opening the letter.
However, no matter how much I wandered around the cramped garden, my crumpled mood refused to straighten out.
Thinking rationally, I know Valentin wouldn't use a single letter to deliver a rejection. Despite knowing that, the anxiety and depression wouldn't stop. How could someone be such an idiot?
‘I feel terrible.’
I closed my eyes, feeling the cool breeze at the tail end of spring.
I simply cannot understand. What am I lacking that I have to suffer so much over one person?
It would have been better when there was a hole in my shoulder. I felt utterly pathetic, brooding alone with my head in my hands. I wanted to escape this answerless wandering immediately.
In the end, there is only one way.
“Fine, I’ll just take him.”
Whether Valentin rejects me or not, I'll make him my man. I'll pester my father to issue an imperial decree. That Count Nariyan must marry Princess Larisa!
Oh, my god. I've never felt so at peace.
The moment I considered using my status to force him to be mine, my mind cleared. I turned around with a much lighter heart. But I was immediately blocked by a massive wall.
“What is it that you intend to take, Your Highness? Igor Tolstoy?”
My feet were frozen in place by a vivid turquoise light shimmering in the darkness.
Am I seeing things? I reached out as if wandering through a dream.
“Valentin, how are you here...?”
“Were you speaking of Igor Tolstoy?”
My fingertips touched his cheek. Feeling the cool sensation, I finally realized this was reality, not a dream. Simultaneously, the reason why Valentin shouldn't be here came to mind.
“Weren't you busy? Don't tell me... it's not the orphanage? Did I find the wrong answer? Did something go wrong?”
“Princess Larisa.”
At his calm call, I answered calmly as well.
“Yes.”
Valentin took my hand.
He pulled the hand that was tracing his face and left a deep kiss on the back of my chilled hand. Before long, a long inhalation swallowed my scent. His chest swelled lightly as if he were finally taking a breath he had held for a long time, and a voice drenched in deep relief lifted me up.
“Your Highness were not wrong. You completed your mission splendidly, and thanks to you, we have all seen a glimmer of hope that was fading away. It is all thanks to Princess Larisa.”
“....”
“I would like to take this opportunity to express my sincere gratitude.”
“Yes,” I answered softly, and as if he had been waiting, his firmly locked gaze turned toward me.
“However, Your Highness.”
“Speak.”
“Was it indeed Igor Tolstoy?”
“...Why do you keep bringing up that name?”
“You said you would take him.”
Ah.
‘I was talking about you, not Igor.’
Is there a need to answer honestly like that?
Valentin likes me. Despite being so blatantly jealous of Igor, he never reveals his feelings with his words. This is unfair.
“What if it was Igor?”
The expression on his face as he stared back at me stiffened. I tried to pull my hand away from Valentin, but his grip was as firm as vines woven from rock, and I couldn't budge. The more I struggled, the deeper our fingers intertwined.
“Did you read the letter I sent?”
“No, not yet.”
“That is a relief. Please just burn it.”
What?
“Burn it? Why? Isn't it a letter you sent?”
“It is true that I sent it... but it is not worth reading. Realizing that, I came in person. To see Your Highness.”
What on earth is he talking about? Valentin led me, who looked bewildered, further into the castle.
“Shall we go burn the letter first?”
But I planted my feet firmly and resisted.
“No.”
“Your Highness.”
“No. I won't burn it. Why should I burn that letter? I have kept every single letter I've ever received from you preciously. I will keep that one too. I will never turn it into mere kindling.”
Not only did I collect them all, but I read them dozens of times until they were worn from my touch. To the point where I remember exactly what was written in the letters I received on specific days. Looking back now, even those moments were memories. He thinks he can just burn my memories and love on a whim? He's dreaming.
Valentin looked at me with a strange look, somewhere between a smile and a frown.
“Why do you keep such a scrap of paper so preciously?”
“And why were you in such a rush to come see me? To burn that letter? The letter you went through the trouble of sending via Igor?”
Valentin didn't come here to meet Duchess Illyn.
“You're a coward, Valentin.”
Valentin did not deny it. His unchangingly composed demeanor threw fuel on my anger.
“And that letter probably describes just how much of a coward you are. Fine! Since we're on the subject, I'll read it right now. I'm curious what amazing story is written in there that made you come in person...!”
A late breeze suddenly swept in. The first thing I felt was his scent, followed by a gentle yet powerful pull drawing me in. I fell silent in an embrace so intense it felt as if my heart would stop.
Valentin hugged me deeply, as if he might crush my waist. He was mindful not to put too much strain on my shoulders, bringing our bodies into even closer contact.
“You are correct, Your Highness. I am always terrified.”
Every time his breath fell on my neck and the vivid touch of his lips brushed my ear, an overwhelmingly intense shiver ran through my entire body.
“That is why every moment I see you... I am profoundly relieved that you are alive and breathing. And I tremble with anxiety. Fearing that I might lose you to such complacency.”
I felt as if I understood what he meant, yet also as if I didn't. We feel the same way, so why is there such a gap? Is it because the worlds we have lived in are that different?
Still, there is one thing I can empathize with from the bottom of my heart. The anxiety that comes from loving someone.
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