Hestia was not a princess or a saint to Aslan.
She couldn’t be anything in that sense; she was just a woman. That’s all.
After taking off the heavy armor as if he were suffocating, he poured himself a glass of whiskey and lay down on the sofa.
What’s the big deal about a saint?
He knew he was venting his anger, but if he didn’t, he couldn’t control the fire within him.
But once Hestia took root in his mind, she didn’t leave easily.
Even though he didn’t want it, his instincts naturally recalled his past with her.
“That woman must be completely forgotten.”
The words he had said a long time ago.
And… the confession he never knew he would regret so much in his life.
The recipient couldn’t even remember it, and all the emotions were left solely in his heart, making Aslan’s clenched teeth even stronger.
“She’s such an annoying woman.”
But if she doesn’t appear, he gets angry.
He didn’t know what to do with this contradictory emotion.
Aslan wanted to relieve his frustration even a little.
The only way he could choose was to drink alone.
Aslan opened the liquor cabinet and took out the poison.
He emptied half the contents of the bottle at once, but the intoxication didn’t come at all.
Realizing that his efforts were useless, Aslan put the bottle down roughly.
“I guess sleeping is better.”
He headed straight for the bed, lay down carelessly, and covered his eyes with his thick arm.
His golden eyes hid under his eyelids, and his slow, steady breaths took his consciousness back to the past.
Memory wandered in the past.
Aslan first met Hestia nine years ago in 1090.
In December 1088, Jorgos, who ascended to the throne suddenly, made Aslan, the exclusive lord of Kalati, his confidant the following year.
Certainly, here is the English translation of the Korean paragraph you provided, following your guidelines:
“Suddenly, Aslan, who had come to the capital alone, had to live alone in the unused palace without an owner.
For a year, he endured in a place where there were no family, friends, subordinates, or anyone else.
As if under surveillance in the name of protection, the 15-year-old boy had no one to watch over him or anyone to be by his side.
Just as the Kalati Duke’s lineage dictated, Aslan was also naturally silent.
On the day his father, Wayne Kalati, left him here, he had left him with that last admonition.
Aslan had taken those words as his anchor and had lived in the palace, trying to hide as much as possible.
But Jorgos, as indifferent as ever, showed no interest in him, rendering his vigilance futile.
Aslan continued to train. With no sparring partners or instruction, he sometimes hit his limits, but even that he overcame with diligence.
In the midst of his growth, he grew day by day, and his body was already comparable to an adult’s. But his limited experience sometimes brought forth emotions he couldn’t handle alone.
Days like today, when the bustling sounds of a party echoed, were particularly challenging.
Aslan, who had been taking a walk in the room, suddenly clenched his teeth.
The intermittent music, the laughter and chatter of people, all entered his ears despite his unwillingness.
It was a noise that greatly annoyed Aslan.
“Damn revelers.”
Clutching his fist so hard that the bones of his knuckles turned white, Aslan swallowed his anger.
While they were enjoying themselves, his father, his subordinates, his friends, were all giving their all to eliminate marauders who had crossed the mountains with the winter.
It was so clear in his mind.
“While everyone is suffering like that, they…”
And he.
Alone in this place, trapped with the profound helplessness of not being able to do anything, Aslan couldn’t bear the self-loathing.
“I’m doing nothing.”
Even as he clenched his fist, the restless feeling wouldn’t subside.
For the first time since coming here, his eyelashes grew hot.
“Huff…”
It was then that, unable to overcome his unease, he let out a deep sigh he had always kept buried inside his lips.
Rustle.
A faint sound came from behind his back.”
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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