He Who Covets the Abandoned Bride (10 Chapters Left to Complete) - Chapter 13
Laila’s body swayed unsteadily as she collapsed powerlessly into Millay’s arms. Thereupon, Millay, who had firmly grasped her shoulders with both hands, whispered softly.
As though sharing a secret tale.
“Princess, listen carefully. Your problem right now is not whether to get engaged or not.”
It was a voice so quiet that it instead drew one’s full attention. Laila lifted her head and looked at him. Millay’s expression was exceedingly grave. There was not the slightest hint of jest.
Unconsciously tensing, Laila slowly swallowed dryly.
“What… do you mean by that?”
“It means that the circumstances surrounding you—no, surrounding Wessex—are gradually worsening.”
“…Has something happened in Wessex recently?”
The King of Wessex, her father, was a man with the stubborn belief that daughters must not interfere in politics. Naturally, Laila could not help but be ignorant in such matters.
That did not mean she was completely uninterested. She had diligently read books written by renowned diplomats and political scholars, and whenever distinguished guests visited from abroad, she would seek them out—whenever time and the other party permitted—and engage in various conversations.
Though part of it was to relieve the boredom of being confined within the palace, thanks to that she understood far more about knowledge and foreign affairs than her other sisters.
At present, Wessex was a prey all too easy for great powers such as Harkin or Fitzroy to devour.
Yet because the King of Wessex had sent his daughters to form alliances with neighboring kingdoms, she had assumed the country would not collapse so easily.
Had something changed while she was away in Pilmer? As Laila sent him a gaze pleading for any explanation, Millay soon began to speak.
“Do you know of Isabella Fitzroy?”
“Isabella Fitzroy… Do you mean the First Princess of Fitzroy?”
“Yes.”
The dignified figure of Isabella rose clearly in Laila’s mind.
“Of course. I have met her before.”
She recalled the woman who, several winters ago, strode boldly into the palace of Wessex leading a great many retainers, her white cloak billowing despite the biting cold.
Isabella Fitzroy, currently acknowledged as the most likely successor to the throne of Fitzroy. Though only a few words had passed between them at the time, Laila had found Isabella’s confidence truly admirable.
Among all the people she had ever met, Isabella was the most splendid woman. That was why Laila had envied her and wished to emulate her.
Yet from Millay’s lips came a shocking revelation.
“That woman… no, that First Princess is plotting to occupy Wessex and abduct Prince Cedric.”
Occupation. Abduction.
For some reason, tremendously grave words spilled from his mouth—words she had never imagined hearing.
Moreover, Cedric was the name of her youngest brother. Quite a few years younger than Laila, he was an adorably bright child who followed her faithfully.
To think the word “abduction” could be linked to such a child. It was a combination that should never exist.
Strength entered the hands of Laila, who had been nestled in Millay’s embrace. Slight wrinkles formed on his neat clothing, yet she had no leisure to care.
“…What do you mean by that?”
“Exactly what I said.”
“Why on earth.”
As her mind stiffened, Laila suddenly recalled a single remark her father had made some time ago regarding Fitzroy.
〈Merawen is to be wed to the First Prince of Fitzroy.〉
It had been a passing comment when her father informed her that he had promised to send her here as the fiancée of the Seventh Prince.
At the time she had felt a faint unease—whether it was acceptable to send her to Fitzroy’s First Prince—but afterward there had been no further news, so she had simply accepted it.
Truthfully, who would promptly deliver news to someone like her, buried away in a corner of the royal family?
Yet had her father’s decision truly offended the First Princess, Isabella?
While Laila frantically organized her thoughts, Millay added his own opinion.
“If that happens, you will lose all value in this country. Therefore, this is no time to stand about in a daze. You must come to your senses at once and hasten back to Wessex, Princess.”
If Millay’s words were true, his interpretation was not unreasonable.
The Seventh Prince, Reynald, already looked down on her; were Wessex to fall, he was the sort who would strip her of everything and abandon her on the streets without a second thought.
“Where exactly did you hear such a story? Please tell me in more detail.”
“The news is that among the First Princess of Fitzroy’s plans to usurp the throne, there is a plot to assassinate the King of Wessex.”
“Such a…”
Shocked, Laila felt her hands tremble.
Everything was so astounding that she did not know how to respond. It felt too unreal to believe outright.
“Even Reynald does not seem to know of it yet—where in the world did you hear this, my lord?”
At Laila’s unexpected thrust, Millay answered in a lowered voice.
“…Thanks to traveling between many countries over the years, my sources of information have become rather special. If Your Highness wishes, I can show you the report my aide has prepared.”
In his voice lingered a trace of anxiety—fear that she might discover his true identity. If she did, she would surely refuse his help. Fortunately, however, Laila did not recognize him.
Only her complexion grew so pale it pained anyone who saw it.
“I wish to see it—that report.”
It was a natural request while still half in doubt. Millay gladly took Laila’s hand and led her out of the room.
A dark corridor where nearly all the servants had fallen asleep. Yet escorting a lady seemed second nature to Millay; he matched her steps with perfect ease.
Silent footsteps and measured gait. Though he did not appear to be deliberately careful, even his manner of walking exuded elegance.
‘For a newly risen noble… his noble bearing is far too natural.’
On the way to the study, Laila spoke—partly to probe him, partly to drive away the fear born of silence.
“What meritorious deed did Sir Millay perform to be granted a marquessate?”
“Rather than my own merit… My late father was a rural count of the Ethereal Principality that governs the eastern part of Harkin, but several years ago His Grace the Duke went to suppress a Wave in the east and went missing.”
“By Wave, do you mean an outbreak of monsters?”
“It happens from time to time in Harkin.”
Laila nodded. Fortunately, Wessex lay outside the monster-infested regions and had not suffered such calamities in recent years. Yet hearing this reminded her of the days when she lived in the Harkin Empire, when her father and the imperial family would occasionally travel to other regions to deal with Waves.
“To put it simply, omitting the details—I rescued His Grace the Duke, and upon his recommendation the imperial family bestowed the marquessate. After my father passed away, I inherited it.”
A sudden question rose to Laila’s lips.
“Sir Millay, are you by any chance an ability user?”
She had recalled what happened earlier in the garden behind the banquet hall.
The stone that had suddenly rolled toward them with a rumble. Seeing it, Laila had wondered whether a psychokinesis user might be nearby.
No one had been passing by, nor had there been a strong gust of wind, yet a seemingly heavy stone had abruptly rolled between them.
Though the princes of the Kingdom of Pilmer were also ability users, their power was said to be remote viewing, and she had heard Reynald’s was almost nonexistent.
Moreover, there had not been many people nearby.
For an instant Millay’s steps faltered. Yet whether it was because they had arrived at the study or an involuntary reaction to her question, she could not tell.
Especially since he opened the study door and answered nonchalantly.
“I only wish I possessed such an ability. The world might have felt a little more interesting.”
“Then I am curious how you rescued His Grace the Duke of Ethereal.”
Lighting the lamp on the desk, he narrowed his eyes and smiled softly.
“You are very curious, Princess.”
With that, he handed her a bundle of documents. To Laila, that gesture felt like some kind of signal—almost inevitable.
Do not pry into my true identity.
Such obstinacy only fueled Laila’s suspicion that Millay might be concealing his real status.
‘Can I truly trust someone who is lying?’
He must know he appears suspicious, yet he says nothing. That fact left an unpleasant taste, but for now Laila looked down at the title of the documents.
Report on the Movements of Isabella Fitzroy
Male lead is a clingy little husband
One-line summary: The male lead is initially an arrogant, noble, love-deprived brat, later a cute, clingy, scheming little jealous one.
Introduction:
One day, Lu Yuner’s soul transmigrates into a female-dominant world. She enters the Imperial Academy and takes up the position of a doctoral instructor, teaching classes and grading schoolwork.
One day, she encounters the young prince Su Qingwan secretly skipping class from the male academy.
As a result, Su Qingwan is punished.
From then on, Su Qingwan sees Lu Yuner as a “thorn in his side”.
But before long, this “thorn” becomes the person he cherishes most, and he goes to great lengths to win Lu Yuner’s affection.
Mini scene 1:
One day, the sun is high in the sky but Su Qingwan still hasn’t gotten up for class.
Servant Xiaoyuan: “Young prince, it’s time for class. You’ll be late otherwise.”
Su Qingwan says arrogantly: “I’m not going. I am the esteemed prince, my status is so noble, why should I suffer this hardship? Besides, isn’t learning all this just to please women? Hmph, they’re not worthy!”
Mini scene 2:
After Su Qingwan falls for someone, he completely changes. He no longer skips class and diligently learns how to be a good husband and father. But he discovers that Sister Yuner is always surrounded by admirers.
Drunk and overcome with jealousy one day, he clings to Lu Yuner, crying beautifully like a pear blossom in the rain.
Su Qingwan: “Qingwan likes Sister Yuner.”
Lu Yuner: “Young prince, you’re drunk.”
Su Qingwan: “Qingwan isn’t drunk. Qingwan likes Sister Yuner, likes you so much, likes you to bits…” Before he can finish, Lu Yuner’s eyes flash with emotion and she leans in closer.
[Reading Guide]
1. The female lead is gentle, gracious, humble and polite but not weak. The male lead is initially an arrogant, noble, love-deprived brat, later a cute, clingy, scheming little jealous one.
2. 1v1, a bit torturous in the beginning but definitely sweet later on.
_____
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