Chapter 31. If It Hurts, Just Refuse

2023.10.31.

Yuan held tightly in her heart a pain that never diminished, no matter how much she took away.

‘Your sister died. And now that you’ve lost your place, wasn’t it natural to want to replace everything?’

‘A husband instead of your sister. This black mansion instead of the Pelliese estate. Of course you’d want to settle down.’

Burying her face in his faded blond hair, Yuan quietly sobbed.

Forgive me for staying by your side simply because I needed you, yet never taking even half of your suffering.

Forgive me for secretly hoping to hide in the peace of this place, while at the same time believing that half of the pain was rightfully yours to bear—the price for possibly having killed your sister.

“I’m sorry.”

“If you’re sorry, then get out—right now, urgh……”

“I’m sorry, Your Highness.”

Yuan kept slowly swallowing the unending pain, bit by bit, until she pulled out the next arrow.

If only she hadn’t stubbornly insisted on staying here.

If only she hadn’t lied about passing the trial of ordinariness to remain, then the Emperor wouldn’t have come and tormented Clade.

Therefore, the pain inflicted upon him by the Emperor belonged not to Clade—but to Yuan.

Right now, the one who truly deserved to suffer was herself.

For the first time in her life, Yuan sincerely thanked God for giving her the ability to feel pain on someone else’s behalf.

“It’s me who’s in pain. Why are you crying?”

“……Because we’re family.”

Yuan silently vowed to finally let go of Louise and do her best for the new family she had brought to her.

Not to talk about Louise, but to genuinely try to get along well with him.

Fortunately,

Clade didn’t say the sad words, “What are you to me, to call yourself family.”

He simply turned his head away from her, in the opposite direction of Yuan, who had buried her face in his hair and was silently enduring her groans.

***

The black mansion, after the Emperor’s departure, became even busier.

The servants cleared the rooms where guests had stayed and removed the decorations that people from the palace had lavishly arranged in the guest hall.

A wagon carrying the new mistress’s first orders for food supplies and work uniforms rattled into the estate.

The stone path, cleared of snow early in the morning, sparkled as if freshly polished.

Yuan glanced at the head chef preparing the hare meat brought by Emperor Igor, then quietly carried a pot of soup she had just finished up to the second floor.

“Explain to me why I don’t feel any pain.”

As soon as she entered the bedroom, Clade’s hoarse voice flew toward her.

Sunlight streamed through the curtains she had opened at dawn. Clade, shielding his eyes with his hand, looked up at Yuan with a grimace.

“Tell me every single thing.”

Clade, who had been acting as if he might leap up at any moment, clutched the tightly wrapped bandages around his side and groaned in pain.

“The wound is still there. If you move around thinking it doesn’t hurt, it’ll only get worse.”

Yuan supported him, helping him sit upright against the headboard, then placed a tray with a warm bowl of soup on his lap.

Clade carefully studied Yuan’s face through the rising white steam, then lowered his gaze to the untouched spoon. His straight forehead was dotted with fine strands of blond hair that glimmered faintly.

“……You could’ve refused, you know.”

A self-mocking voice slipped from his pale, dry lips.

Yuan realized what refusal Clade was referring to.

The prescription she had mentioned from the Pelliese family.

The medicine she gave him, and the ‘intimate warmth’.

In other words, translated into what he imagined—‘a passionate night’.

Now, all of a sudden, was he bothered by it?

Yuan chuckled, watching Clade suddenly fixating on something strange.

“How could I refuse when Your Highness was in such pain?”

Clade flinched sharply.

His expression darkened further.

His gaze rose again with the warm steam, stopping at Yuan’s face.

His gaunt face. His drooping eyelashes. His slightly swollen eyelids and reddened corners of the eyes—his gaze scattered uneasily.

“Don’t take it all. If it hurts, just refuse.”

“?”

The moment he said that, Clade abruptly turned his head away. Yuan stared for a long time at his sharply sculpted profile, then whispered softly.

“This is nothing at all.”

“…….”

Yuan, habitually saying she was fine, stared again at Clade’s complicated expression before lowering her eyes.

Even though she had clearly taken all of the man’s pain, she still felt guilty.

‘There’s nothing to worry about.’

She had used her ability of her own will.

She had intruded upon his peaceful life—this was her crime.

“It’s something I do because I want to, so please don’t worry too much. I need this to feel at ease too.”

“You enjoy it?”

Clade’s face turned deeply red as he looked at her again.

Not just from embarrassment—but a face mixed with shame and confusion.

He stared blankly at Yuan, who casually claimed she was fine, then finally voiced what he had kept inside for so long.

“You. You know I don’t remember anything, right?”

Yuan nodded immediately, understanding at once. His neck flushed red. But at this point, it wasn’t the time to protect his pride over being the only one unaware of what everyone else knew—the intense night. After all, the person involved already knew.

Clade clenched his jaw, as if making up his mind, and asked.

“……Is there no way for me to keep my memories?”

This time, it was Yuan’s turn to blush.

If he remembered, he would realize there was nothing passionate between them—only pain.

Yuan agreed with Lancelot’s words that Clade wasn’t such a bad person, but revealing her ability was a completely separate matter.

“That’s beyond my power. But……”

Again, she had no choice but to lie.

With a hint of sincerity.

“It might be better that you don’t remember.”

But that single sentence seemed to touch something in Clade—his face turned even paler than before.

***

“Yes, they shared the bed again last night.”

An awkward laugh slipped out involuntarily.

Clade laughed hollowly at the steward in front of him, flustered by the master’s repeated question. The cold, creeping smile was thickly laced with contempt for himself.

“It seems natural, as the lady spent the entire night nursing His Highness.”

“Natural?”

The steward’s attempt to comfort him only turned into poison.

Clade stared at the blood seeping through the bandages tightly wrapped around his side, shoulder, and thigh, and for the first time agreed with his uncle’s old insult—calling him a ‘beastly fellow’.

Even while enduring torn flesh and pain piercing through his body, he still shared the bed.

And perhaps the reason for sharing the bed was the same as why he couldn’t remember the pain from last night.

‘To forget the pain and sleep peacefully.’

Clade irritably ruffled his blond hair and glared at Gustav, who hesitated whether to stay or leave. As Gustav cautiously approached, Clade lowered his voice.

“If we’re sharing the bed, why is only the woman suffering?”

According to the chattering maids and steward Gustav’s report, sounds of someone enduring pain were always heard from the bedroom.

He wasn’t unaware of the reason, but still—wasn’t this happening too often?

“Well, if the two of you aren’t quite compatible……”

Clade raised one eyebrow.

“If the man lacks consideration……”

The other eyebrow twitched.

“If both are…… involved……”

Clade glared at the steward, who was only increasing his unease instead of helping.

Gustav, looking slightly aggrieved, gave his final warning.

“Given His Highness’s poor condition, it would be wise to restrain yourself. I’ve seen many rulers die from overexertion. The same goes for women. If the body can’t endure it……”

Click-.

“If you could just treat the lady better, even during the day……”

Having said his piece, Gustav quietly closed the door and disappeared.

Clade clutched his head with a pale face.

***

“I’m not eating.”

He pushed it away more forcefully than usual.

Yuan didn’t back down, bringing the meal to the table despite having already prepared a full pot of soup earlier.

“Please, just eat a little. I made it myself again today.”

At the words ‘made myself,’ Clade’s brow slightly furrowed.

It was unclear what exactly bothered him, but since his injury, Clade’s face was always full of dissatisfaction.

‘Better to be unpleasant than cold as ice.’

It was true.

The words ‘get out’ or ‘leave me’ from Clade’s mouth had greatly decreased. Instead, he occasionally stared at her with an unreadable expression. And there were moments—strange, very strange—when he acted oddly gentle.

“If you don’t like it, I’ll take it back.”

Clade strangely couldn’t refuse when Yuan personally brought something.

Not that he seemed happy or welcoming.

Yuan supported Clade as he reluctantly, slowly got up.

Again, he neither fully leaned on her nor completely pushed her away.

Given how tall and large his body was, Yuan found it slightly tiring—but couldn’t help thinking he looked a bit cute for at least pretending to eat.

“Why are you smiling?”

“…….”

“I asked why you’re smiling.”

“……Because you’re cute.”

Her barely audible answer made a look of disbelief flash across his face.

“How old are you, anyway?”

A simple question, yet her words suddenly stuck in her throat.

Had he ever asked her a personal question like this before? Was it out of politeness? Boredom?

Whether or not he understood Yuan’s confusion,

Clade lowered his head and began eating the soup.

Until he had finished half the bowl, Yuan watched him, feeling as if her heart were a balloon floating gently upward.

“How old are you, brat.”

Finally, Clade lifted his chin after finishing the soup cleanly.

Very elegant—but a tiny bit of soup clung to the corner of his mouth.

Yuan chuckled and wiped it off for him.

Clade’s eyebrows twitched once.

“I’ve eaten enough.”

“Sixteen? Seventeen?”

The moment he said it, his face turned deathly pale—his thoughts clearly running in one obvious direction.

“If you’re done eating, let’s go for a walk. The path has been cleared of snow.”

“How old are you?”

Clade insisted stubbornly, as if demanding confirmation, his face still pale.

“You’re over twenty, right?”

“If we walk together, I’ll tell you.”

For a moment, Clade’s usually pale cheek flushed red.

Yuan immediately realized it wasn’t from embarrassment—but from anger.

From between his tightly pressed lips, a voice strained and suppressed finally escaped.

“Dare you… bargain with me?”