Lowell knew she had been unlucky all her life. There are places where a black cat is considered a symbol of misfortune, and from the moment she was born with black hair, Lowell couldn’t escape her ill-fated destiny. From being diagnosed with a terminal illness at ten to the annihilation of her family and her arrival here, she never had good luck.
“…But.”
She had hoped at least this wouldn’t be true.
Why was fate so cruel to her alone?
At that moment, she could keenly perceive the emotions displayed on the Emperor’s face.
Anger, contempt, hatred, and longing. The Emperor’s face twisted fiercely as he spoke.
“If you so wish to be a replacement for the dead, I’ll allow it. Try living as a dead soul.”
The Emperor mockingly smiled at his words, then unfolded his face slowly. It seemed he was about to leave, but then, driven by some thought, he leaned in, locking his gaze with Lowell. His eyes searched her as if looking for something.
In that moment, she saw a reflection of herself.
The longing for someone similar to the one she missed, trying to find differences.
Desperately similar to herself just moments ago. Realizing this, Lowell, as if clutching at shards of falling glass, spoke up.
“…If I am to be ‘Lowell’ for Your Majesty.”
Instantly, the Emperor’s gaze deepened. Or rather, it became heavier, as if he could crush her to death at any moment.
But Lowell did not care. Her hands, though bleeding from clutching the shards of glass, could not let go. She held on, not because it would save her, but out of a desperate need to cling to something.
“Then, may I call you Peter?”
There was no response. Lowell hoped the Emperor would refuse. She wished never to utter this name again in this way.
But luck was never on her side.
“…Call me that.”
“Peter.”
The response leaped out as if it had been waiting. A slight furrow appeared on the Emperor’s brow.
Of course. If he were the boy she knew, it couldn’t be any other way. The boy she knew would feel thrilled even at her calling his name. Even the small contact of eyes meeting and fingers touching was an unmissable joy for him. Lowell knew this Peter well.
Was this despair or ecstasy? Without realizing, her tongue involuntarily repeated the name she longed for.
“Peter.”
Lowell, facing the pale blue eyes, raised her hand. Her fingertips, delicate as glasswork, approached his eyes. This was an action young Lowell often performed for young Peter. She would stroke the corner of his eyes with her thumb while gazing into his eyes.
Then Peter’s heartbeat would accelerate, his face crumpled, blushing.
Just as the man in front of her now.
Thump, Lowell’s fingertips lightly touched his soft skin. Or, she thought they did.
A strong grip snatched Lowell’s hand, and she was forcibly pressed onto the bed. The fragile nape of her neck was easily captured by the hand of the ruler.
“How dare you…”
The Emperor’s face no longer held a smile. His voice grated harshly, resonating in Lowell’s ears. She realized the situation she was in. The Emperor’s patience had completely run out.
The tension from when their lips met earlier returned, coursing up her spine. Lowell’s breath was entirely in the Emperor’s control. In that sense, isn’t sharing breaths during a kiss similar to an exchange of murderous intent? Especially since long-standing affection and hatred are just a paper-thin difference apart.
In that moment, something sank inside Lowell.
Lowell felt a painful pressure on her neck. If the Emperor lost his patience even a bit more, her neck would snap like a twig.
Will he really try to kill me this time?
For a moment, Lowell felt something trickling down her temple.
It was involuntary tears, caused by the strangled breath, tears that had nothing to do with her will.
Yet, ironically, at that moment, the hand gripping her neck loosened. It was a brief sigh of relief, and the Emperor backed away from her. It was almost like an escape.
Does that man even know the expression he’s wearing?
It was the face one might make if encountering a terrible nightmare in reality.
Confusion, fear, anxiety consumed the Emperor’s face. But that too was momentary. Sadly, he was in his right mind and realized that this was not a nightmare.
Then, anger took the place of confusion.
“…Stop playing with my memories. It’s disgusting.”
At the sound of the door closing, Lowell finally sat up. Flowers that had been decorating her hair, now crushed during the brief moment she was down, fell around her like a shower of petals.
“…Ha.”
But that didn’t matter. Lowell laughed, a dry, twisted laugh.
She couldn’t deny or retreat anymore, driven to the edge of a cliff like a madwoman, she abruptly stopped laughing and muttered to herself.
“Yeah… it’s you. Peter.”
My only regret. My reason to live.
She couldn’t deny it anymore. The Emperor was Peter.
Why hadn’t she realized it earlier? The Emperor’s name was Peter Vonderlayen Belphegor.
‘Was I too focused on the royal family’s surname Vonderlayen?’
Turns Out He’s Been Secretly in Love with Me
One-line summary: He acts like he doesn’t like her but is actually playing hard to get.
Synopsis:
Xu Muzhou like her. He has liked her for a very long time, and through repeated schemes, he finally closed the distance with her.
But this is still far from enough.
He wants to be the one who stands out among her many suitors, to fight for her attention, and to make her take the initiative to pursue him.
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