He Who Covets the Abandoned Bride (10 Chapters Left to Complete) - Chapter 15
Outwardly, he was asking for permission—but his lips were already hovering just above Laila’s hand. Of course, if Laila were to pull her hand away now, or clearly show her refusal in any way, Millay didn’t seem like the type to act recklessly.
Yet Laila couldn’t pull away.
If Millay’s words were true, he might be the only one who could help her.
Closing her eyes tightly, Laila pondered what choice she should make, then slowly opened her mouth.
“Then I won’t ask further about your true identity—just answer me one thing.”
“Any question I can answer, I will.”
Laila lifted her eyelids and filled her gaze entirely with Millay. Seeing her serious expression, Millay patiently waited for her to continue.
“If I hold your hand and leave with you from the engagement ceremony, do you truly believe I can return to Wessex and resolve this issue?”
“…”
“Do you think I could stop Princess Isabella’s scheme?”
“That’s…”
Seeing Millay hesitate to give a definite answer, Laila’s face fell in disappointment.
“So you can’t be certain after all.”
She had thought that if abandoning this engagement could protect her kingdom, that would be far more valuable.
But could she really stop what Princess Isabella had set her mind on? Even if she returned home, she might be lucky just to avoid a beating from her father for calling off the engagement.
“No one will believe a word I say—not even if I bring along the report you showed me, Marquis.”
“…”
“And you yourself don’t even know exactly when this will happen, do you?”
If he had known, the report would have included the date—but it hadn’t.
Realizing denial would be pointless, Millay readily admitted it.
“That’s correct. It wouldn’t be surprising if it happened as early as tomorrow. After all, speed is everything in matters like this.”
“Then your help, Marquis, would be even less useful if this occurs tomorrow.”
When Laila gave a bitter smile, Millay frowned regretfully and gripped her hand tightly.
“But Your Highness—”
At the gentle tone of his voice, Laila looked at him impassively, as if asking whether he had anything more to say. She’d expected him to give up by now—but he didn’t.
“Why don’t you ever look inward at your own heart?”
“…Do you even know what my heart wants?”
“I believe, at the very least, you’re not the self-destructive sort who desires unhappiness.”
“…”
“And you’re likely just an ordinary daughter of a loving family—someone who’d willingly accept being engaged to the very person who humiliates her. Am I wrong?”
Why did this man speak as though he knew her so well?
Instead of offering a rebuttal, Laila simply stared hard at him—and Millay did the same.
Clear eyes, unwavering posture. The way he faced her seemed remarkably upright, sincere, and earnest.
Yet he was a man who carried lies behind his words.
Laila was confused about how much of him she could truly trust. No—she couldn’t even distinguish which parts of his words were truth and which were deception.
Should she refuse to believe him and return to the royal palace, living as Reynald Filmer’s fiancée?
Or should she follow his suggestion and flee with him tomorrow from the engagement ceremony back to Wessex?
Neither path would be easy for Laila; either choice promised nothing but thorns ahead.
But if she absolutely had to choose one…
Laila finally made her decision inwardly.
“Marquis Millay… you may think you’re showing me kindness, but I’m being asked to stake my entire life on someone else’s words—especially those of a mysterious man who won’t even reveal his true motives for helping me.”
As she spoke, Laila recalled Maeve, whom she’d met since arriving at this mansion.
She’d seemed genuinely kind and sincere—even though their meeting had been brief, that was how Laila had felt.
The care evident in just a few words, the thoughtful behavior that never made others uncomfortable—thanks to Maeve, her inner discomfort had vanished instantly.
There was a saying: to know someone, observe the people around them. If Maeve served this man as her master, perhaps he was worth trusting, just a little.
That thought suddenly occurred to her.
So she decided to follow the path this man before her proposed.
“But for now, I’ll set aside my doubts.”
“If you’re setting them aside, then…”
Laila held out her hand—which had been resting awkwardly in Millay’s—and placed it before his face. In response, she felt Millay tighten his grip on her hand even more firmly than before.
He understood what this meant. Meeting his expectation, Laila gave her consent aloud.
“If you can truly send me safely back to Wessex, then do it.”
“Of course.”
“I will.”
Before he could finish speaking, Laila quickly added another sentence.
“And once everything is over, I promise I’ll tell you my true identity.”
Millay drew a smooth, elegant curve with his lips—sharp and refined like a well-honed blade—and revealed his amusement with a smile.
“You seem certain I’m hiding something.”
Without the slightest hesitation, Laila nodded firmly.
“You’re no ordinary marquis. You might even be someone who’s known me since long ago.”
“…”
Millay was still smiling, but Laila, gazing into his steady eyes beneath long lashes, thought to herself:
I’ve hit the mark.
“Either way, I want to know who’s trying to change my life—is it truly just a kind stranger passing by?”
“Or some scoundrel who’s had his sights on me all along?”
Though Millay’s phrasing was surprisingly coarse for a nobleman, Laila chose not to comment on it and simply agreed.
“In other words—yes, exactly.”
Millay gave a clean, straightforward reply as well.
“Very well. If that’s your only condition, I swear it.”
As soon as he finished speaking, he stepped back one pace while still holding Laila’s outstretched hand. Then, to Laila’s astonishment, he performed an action she hadn’t anticipated.
Millay knelt on one knee, lowering himself as though pledging a knight’s vow.
She’d expected perhaps nothing more than a brief, courteous kiss on the back of her hand—certainly not this—so Laila was utterly flustered.
Besides, she’d thought him far too proud for such a gesture; his confident tone and unbending posture always exuded the aura of someone who’d never even considered failure.
Now finding herself looking down at him, Laila involuntarily wondered if this was truly appropriate.
For some reason, this act didn’t seem to suit him—but contrary to her assumption, Millay gladly looked up at her.
“I swear I will see you safely returned to Wessex, no matter what happens.”
After uttering his vow, he pressed his lips to the back of her hand. His warm lips left a deep, almost sealing impression.
And that warmth seemed to travel up her arm, making her cheeks burn.
Thankfully, it was deep into the night; in this dim light, no one would notice her reddening cheeks and ears.
Yet her mind was so tense that she didn’t even notice the slight trembling in her own hand.
Millay, feeling that pleasant tremor through their touching hands, felt his chest tighten with emotion.
After lifting his lips, he quietly added:
“…Your Highness, Princess Laila Wessex.”
But what Adrian truly murmured in his heart was entirely different.
‘My Laila.’
My first love from childhood.
From the very first moment I saw you, I thought you were lovely—and I wanted to protect you with my own hands.
Wasn’t that why, in my naive youth, I’d confessed without a second thought?
〈Laila, will you… marry me?〉
Promising to stay with you forever.
Saying I wanted to be with you for all eternity.
Never imagining, not even in my dreams, that someone might exploit those feelings of mine.
But now Adrian was no longer the naive, powerless child who knew nothing of the world and could be easily swayed by others—he would never repeat that foolish mistake again.
Not if it meant either of them would be hurt.
And if it proved necessary, he would gladly play the villain in this story.
Even if the whole world pointed fingers and called him a tyrant.
Male lead is a Divorced Husband
She said to him: “Tell me, what makes you like me? I’ll change it!”
Liu Changning transmigrated into a female cannon fodder character in a female-dominant novel.
After reading the first half of the novel’s plot, the first thing she did upon transmigration was to divorce the Pan Jinlian-style male protagonist she had just married.
She indulged herself, pretending to be ugly and poor.
But as time passed, the way that man looked at her became more and more unusual…
Liu Changning was dumbfounded: Tell me, what makes you like me? I’ll change!
――
This lifetime, Pei Yuanshao was rejected by the same woman twice!
The first time, she drove him away. Forced by the situation, he endured the waves of anger in his heart, yielding and humbling himself.
That person lay slanted on a rocking chair, her sallow face emotionless: “If you don’t want a divorce, go cook!”
Pei Yuanshao’s face was dark and gloomy: “You!”
The second time, after the crisis in Jinling City was resolved, the new emperor sent someone to pick him up. He turned around, stammering: “I… I have to go. If you keep me…”
That person lay on the kang bed, her back to him, as if she had long anticipated this day, crisp and clear: “Goodbye!”
Pei Yuanshao was so angry his fingers trembled: “You… you!”
The mission of family and country made him restrain himself, averting his eyes and turning to leave this broken household.
Two years later, they met again. Seeing her ethereal face, his body shook like a sieve.
“She was originally a ‘she’!”
At the Qionglin Banquet, the top scholar of the imperial examination, a talented person with exceptional speech and conduct, all the unmarried young gentlemen from aristocratic families looked at her with shy and timid eyes.
The peerless imperial official Pei Yuanshao felt the anger in his heart erupt. He pointed at the woman surrounded by the crowd at the Qionglin Banquet, his thin lips slightly curled: “Little sister, I wants that person to be the wife-master of my Mingde Prince Manor.”
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