Love Me Just Once - Chapter 62

And Idren muttered quietly. It seems you want to be hanged on the gallows.

Ophelia pretended not to hear those words, which were closer to revealing his true feelings than speaking to her, and continued reading the letter.

– So if Your Highness gives me another chance to kiss your hand, I will not miss the opportunity this time.

What that statement implied was a request to come see him again. Since Starlett himself could not come to the castle, this was the only way to meet again.

Idren, standing behind her, asked.

“Are you going?”

“I’m not sure.”

Reading something in those words, Idren asked.

“Don’t tell me you went out to where Starlett called in your previous life?”

As if his words hit the mark, Ophelia did not answer. Looking down at the woman’s round back of her head, Idren let out a deep sigh. He couldn’t understand what she had been doing alone.

“I don’t know what the knights assigned to you in your previous life were doing.”

“I left them behind.”

“Then with whom…”

And the man muttered as if it couldn’t be. Surely you didn’t go with some mercenary of unknown identity, did you?

It wasn’t always like that – she had called in a few from Reden to persuade and silence them – but it wasn’t entirely wrong either, so Ophelia didn’t respond.

It didn’t seem like a valid reason to the other person that the agency guaranteed the mercenary’s identity.

Reading that tacit agreement, Idren fell silent. Ophelia thought he would be looking down at her with his characteristic tight-lipped expression.

As if he had many complaints to swallow, the man who had kept his mouth shut for quite a while said.

“Don’t do that.”

To that sentence laden with meaning, Ophelia nodded slightly. As if he didn’t trust her, Idren admonished again.

“I’m not joking. Don’t go around with anyone other than the knights of the royal palace. It’s dangerous.”

If you want to do something without letting me know, you can order the knights to keep silent.

But their master was Idren. Ophelia knew that all the royal knights had sworn allegiance to one person. It was said that those who hadn’t were all expelled and killed when he ascended to the throne.

And unlike knights of other houses, knights who swore to the royal family must pledge eternal loyalty.

So even if she ordered them to keep silent, if Idren wanted to know about it, the royal knights would have to speak. Because nothing could exist above the king’s will.

As if reading her thoughts, Idren said.

“I won’t pry further into what you want to hide, so feel free to take them with you.”

If she denied even those words, it would mean she didn’t trust the other person.

In the end, Ophelia had no choice but to answer the persistent man directly.

“Alright.”

Sighing once again at those words, Idren said.

“If you want to process the raw gemstone, I’ll call a jeweler for you.”

Ophelia looked at the raw gemstone in the box that she had momentarily forgotten. The gemstone, which was quite bright in color even without being cut, was a deep blue.

Knowing what that color, like the bottom of the sea, implied, she shook her head.

“No, I’ll leave it as it is.”

[This is the timeline separator]

In the library of the capital villa that Crown Prince Orien had given in exchange for taking away the flowering lake, Netepel asked as soon as Bahamal entered the room.

“No letter from Ophelia today either?”

Bahamal, who had entered carrying a silver tray full of letters, bowed his head apologetically at his question.

“No, sir.”

“That’s strange… She’s never gone this long without replying before.”

As he tilted his head at something that seemed odd no matter how he thought about it, Bahamal said as he set the tray down on the desk.

“Hasn’t she been a bit slow to reply since losing her first fiancé? You shouldn’t worry too…”

“No, it’s not because of Haslen.”

Netepel remembered what Ophelia had said when they met over the Manos River.

“Idren is not a bad person.”

Having seen his face only a few times, she had taken the side of her new fiancé in front of him. She had even recited his virtues, so Netepel knew how highly she thought of her fiancé.

“He’s kind, quiet, polite, and diligent.”

But only the part about him being quiet was correct.

Unlike Ophelia, who had lived only in Reden Palace and didn’t know much about the world, Netepel knew what kind of person the King of Aglante was. He was a famous killer throughout the continent. He had lived on the frontier killing people even before coming of age, and eventually killed the legitimate heir and king to take that position himself.

He might be quiet since he carried out the rebellion without a sound, but being kind and polite was surely just her misconception.

So Netepel didn’t refute Ophelia, who only saw the best side that the killer had fabricated. He thought there was no need to upset her feelings since she would realize it on her own anyway.

Having lost her old fiancé and hurt even by her newly married husband, Ophelia would seek him out.

It was a natural progression since he would be the only one left.

However, the king, whom he thought would soon reveal his true colors, seemed to be holding back for quite a long time. Even after several months had passed since the wedding ceremony, Netepel had not received a letter from his friend. This was despite sending her a gift on the pretext of her marriage, which only required a reply.

Looking down at the pile of letters that wouldn’t contain the name he hoped for, Netepel said.

“She must be enjoying married life a lot. To the point of not even thinking of someone like me.”

And he added without realizing it. It’s a bit too much. I’ve lived only looking at Ophelia for a long time.

It was the truth without a single lie.

From the moment he saw the blue-eyed girl at the meeting of the three countries, Netepel had lived thinking only of her.

“My name is Ophelia.”

On a summer day when she was not even half her current size, the name she had taught him was engraved directly onto his soul. Ophelia was the only one who had reached out to him, who had been rejected everywhere for being a half-breed.

Since that day, Netepel had waited only for Ophelia every year.

Even knowing that she was only seeking him out because she was hurt by her family, his thoughts didn’t change. No, if she sought him out because of her wounds, he even thought it would be good if everything in the world was sharp to her.

If only he could remain as her friend in such a world, wouldn’t Ophelia wait only for him as well?

But contrary to his wishes, a new person came into the girl’s life.

Haslen Rakmata.

That boy, who was said to have grown up receiving only love in a wealthy family, stole all of Ophelia’s heart not long after appearing. With each passing year that Ophelia spent with Haslen, Netepel felt her fiancé increasingly filling up her life.

And when one thing is engraved, another must be erased.

On a summer day when he realized how faint his place within her had become, Netepel finally ran away. He didn’t want to ruin his friend’s happiness, but it was eating away at him.

The more Ophelia became close to her fiancé, the more she removed him from her heart. It was natural since anyone would choose light over darkness.

But Ophelia, what about me then?

Giving up on the meetings, the only way to see her, Netepel locked himself in the narrowest room of the imperial palace and constantly asked the girl who was no different from himself. If you leave, what’s left for me?

Knowing how unhappy I am.

However, Netepel couldn’t even hate the cold-hearted girl. Ophelia was as good as the only hope he had. They fit together like two halves of a soul.

It was around that time that revelation came to him.

[Poor child.]

One day, as he was curled up on the oldest bed shedding tears, when that voice echoed in his head, Netepel thought he had gone mad. It was natural since there was no way he could hear someone else’s voice in an empty room unless he had been consumed by madness.

But the voice did not disappear.

[You dare to desire what you cannot have.]

And warmth brushed down his spine. At the heat like the breath of a beast, Netepel hastily turned around, but there was nothing there.

Gripped by fear, he asked.

“Who are you?”

A voice that was neither female nor male swirled around.

[I am the flame that devours people, the hand that makes them grasp things beyond fate, the power that can even pull the dead from death.]

It seemed like he might have heard a small laugh from somewhere. Netepel, who had jumped up from his seat, looked around. There was nothing visible.

Words that could not be understood by simple thought continued.

[Because of me, people gouge out each other’s eyes and hearts and blame each other. Yet they fall passionately in love with each other and desire.]

And in an instant, everything in the room stirred. Heat hot enough to really ignite flames enveloped the surroundings.

Netepel hurriedly brushed his own arms at the heat that seemed like it could easily burn that one. However, no burn marks appeared.

The voice laughed brightly as it swirled around him. When the bright laughter brushed past his ears, Netepel could hear its name.

[I am the red thing that always lurks beneath the skin and comes out on the tongue. The god of the hungry. I am desire.]