Trampled and Broken (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 34
Aslan’s slightly averted gaze shot back toward her like an arrow and pierced straight through.
His target was her heart.
Aslan’s arrow struck true, and because of it, Hestia’s heart ached and tightened.
For some reason, she felt as if her breath were catching in her throat, and her voice, thinner than ever, slipped haltingly from between her lips.
“How you’ve been. Whether you’ve been hurt anywhere.”
Words she would normally have swallowed down now tumbled out, clumsy and pitiful.
Wanting her sincerity to be understood, her violet eyes—fixed steadily on his golden ones—slowly drifted downward as if weighted by heavy lead.
“But I have no right to ask such things.”
With those words, a thick silence settled between them.
It was an emotion that, no matter how much one tried to rub it away, would only spread further and never truly fade.
It blurred the boundary between them, yet at the same time clearly marked them apart, making it impossible for them to become one.
No further words came from Aslan’s lips.
Hestia moistened her parched lips with her tongue again and again.
Suddenly, Aslan’s feet, which had been caught at the edge of her vision, sharply turned away.
Then came a distinct thud.
By the time Hestia belatedly lifted her head to look, his back was already gone—only a closed door remained in her sight.
“He really does walk fast.”
She murmured with a bitter smile tugging at her lips.
“Hoo….”
Just as she let out a deep sigh, finally ready to rest properly this time—
Another knock sounded from outside.
The door cracked open slightly, and Angela appeared through the gap.
“Your Highness, are you all right?”
“Oh, Angela. Come in.”
Angela stepped inside with an apologetic, awkward expression.
“I’m sorry. I knew you wanted to rest alone, so I tried not to follow you… but Duke Kalati seemed to be heading after you.”
She meant she’d followed out of worry.
“Oh, he just stopped by briefly to ask if I was all right. He left right away.”
“What? Him?”
Angela’s eyes widened like a startled rabbit, clearly finding it hard to believe.
At that sight, all the tension within Hestia melted away, and before she knew it, she let out a quiet, involuntary laugh.
She absentmindedly swept back her disheveled hair, and her fingers came away damp with sweat from her forehead.
‘My condition isn’t good.’
She was clearly running a slight fever.
It seemed the shock from Lilith’s words had immediately manifested as physical symptoms.
Ever since receiving her death sentence, her physical state had become highly dependent on her mental strength.
The weaker her willpower grew, the faster her energy drained.
‘I knew this even in my past life, yet I never truly managed to control my emotions.’
She blinked several times, opening and closing her eyelids.
‘I can’t collapse like this. I must hold on at least until tonight.’
Each time she steadied her breathing, her frail body trembled noticeably.
The Bo-deum Festival schedule was divided into two parts: the daytime event and the evening gala.
During the day, volunteers served the children at the orphanage, but at night, nobles who attended the charity event gathered in the palace banquet hall for an after-party.
Since winter lingered long in the North, even the nobility couldn’t ignore the plight of the struggling commoners.
By royal decree, lavish parties were discouraged as much as possible, and noble houses weren’t even permitted to host large-scale banquets.
Thus, such opportunities for social interaction within noble society were exceedingly rare and precious, so most attended whenever possible.
As if sharing Hestia’s very thoughts, Angela cautiously asked in a hesitant tone,
“You probably won’t be able to attend tonight’s evening gala, will you?”
Without even pausing to consider, Hestia shook her head before Angela had even finished speaking.
“No, I’ll attend. Just prepare everything as scheduled.”
“But Your Highness… you look terribly unwell right now.”
“I’ll be fine after a short rest.”
Hestia replied stubbornly.
Lilith’s words had given her a sudden, objective clarity about her own situation.
It seemed her story had spread far more than she’d realized.
If she failed to fulfill her scheduled appearances at a time like this, rumors would surely branch out and spread in increasingly negative directions.
‘If I don’t show up at tonight’s banquet, people will inevitably speculate that I’m avoiding it because I’ve done something shameful or have something to hide.’
And that would mean, just like in her past life, Anetsa would once again seize control of the situation.
‘I must show them I have nothing wrong with me.’
She absolutely could not allow the perception that she’d been abandoned by the gods—and by the temple—due to some flaw.
Speaking aloud as if casting a spell upon herself, Hestia stubbornly repeated once more,
“I can attend. So please, Angela, make me beautiful. I’m counting on you.”
[This is the timeline separator]Night. The palace banquet hall.
A magnificent chandelier illuminated the vast space.
Crystal shadows embroidered the floor with beautiful light, further enhancing the atmosphere of opulence.
In a corner of the banquet hall,
Dean, who had accompanied Aslan to the event, took a sip of his drink and struck up a conversation.
“This is truly unexpected, Your Grace.”
“What is?”
“You’re someone who never attends these kinds of gatherings.”
“…”
Aslan kept his lips tightly pressed together and offered no reply.
His entire focus was fixed on a woman seated somewhere in the banquet hall, his hawk-like gaze sharp and unwavering.
‘That woman… Saint Anetsa.’
Though Hestia had yet to make an appearance, Anetsa had arrived early and was already striding about the hall as if it were her own home.
Numerous nobles surrounded her.
Laughter rang out loudly and continuously from their group, as if something immensely amusing were happening.
Aslan had no particular interest in eavesdropping on their conversation.
Yet his senses were so keen that, whether he liked it or not, their words drifted into his ears—especially given how loudly they spoke.
‘Maybe I shouldn’t have come.’
Just as Dean had said, attending this evening gala was uncharacteristic of him.
After all, hadn’t he even skipped his own welcome reception?
And now, a charity after-party of all things.
He was fully aware this was a rather impulsive decision, yet he stood rooted to the spot as if he’d taken root himself.
“It’s noisy. Too crowded.”
He simply didn’t fit in.
Aslan clicked his tongue softly and scanned the banquet hall.
Velvet drapes of the finest silk hung from the walls.
Towering champagne fountains and an array of rich, extravagant delicacies filled the tables.
Leftover food was carelessly abandoned, only to be hastily shoveled into bins by servants who came to clear it away.
Such extravagance was unimaginable in Kalati, where Aslan spent most of the year.
Dean, standing beside him, asked casually,
“Shall we leave? Should I have the carriage prepared?”
“…”
Aslan remained silent, merely pressing his lips together tightly.
Dean glanced sideways at his lord and muttered, “You’re acting strangely today,” before taking another sip of his drink.
Aslan kept glancing toward the entrance. Noticing his lord’s odd behavior, Dean spoke again.
“Are you waiting for someone?”
“Dean, stop bothering me.”
“How can a subordinate possibly ignore his lord?”
Aslan turned toward Dean with a deeply furrowed brow. At that fierce expression, Dean raised both hands playfully in surrender.
Just as it seemed peace might return, Aslan’s concentration was disturbed not only by Dean.
“Heh heh heh, you’ve grown even more beautiful since we last met, Saint Anetsa.”
The voices of Anetsa’s admirers kept ensnaring his hearing like tightening nooses.
“It’s been a while, Count Bern.”
Anetsa extended the back of her hand toward Count Bern as naturally as if she were royalty herself.
The count hesitated for a moment, then smiled graciously and kissed her hand.
Perhaps because it was a drinking party,
several among Anetsa’s entourage were already quite drunk.
“Saint Anetsa is truly humble!”
“Indeed. If we consider divine power alone, Saint Anetsa is clearly superior. I’ll never forget how she arrived, ushering in spring itself.”
“Compared to that, Saint Hestia…”
In their eagerness to win Anetsa’s favor, they began uttering words they shouldn’t.
Anetsa quietly closed her gently fluttering fan and lowered both eyebrows noticeably.
“Please, everyone, don’t say such things. It puts me in a terribly awkward position.”
Wearing an expression of profound pity—as if the very thought pained her deeply—she continued,
“No matter how true it may be, how heartbroken Saint Hestia would feel if she heard those words!”
“Ha.”
A cold, exasperated breath escaped from between Aslan’s lips.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’ve told you twice already. Please stop bothering me.”
“You really are heartless.”
Ignoring Dean’s grumbling, Aslan twisted his mouth into a grimace, his eyes growing even sharper.
Outwardly, Anetsa wore an expression suggesting she found the nobles’ flattery deeply troubling.
Yet her attempts to stop them were merely words.
Her subtle smiles and faint encouragements were infuriating.
‘How utterly insincere.’
He gritted his teeth, suppressing the urge to click his tongue in disgust.
Crossing his arms, his muscles swelled taut as if ready to burst.
‘Perhaps it’s fortunate the princess isn’t here.’
Aslan almost wished Hestia wouldn’t appear at all.
Truthfully, he had come just to see her proud face once more—but given the atmosphere of this banquet, it might truly be better if she never showed up.
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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