AWLC 12

Chapter – 12

While Asha and Alesto were lost in their own world, Cedric felt heat rising to his head and could no longer stay put.

He stormed out of the building, his insides dry and crackling from anxiety.

When their eyes first met on the balcony, he realized for the first time that his heart could race this fast.

Could she recognize me? a small hope stirred within him.

Still, she was a prospective bride, so perhaps she had seen his portrait beforehand and would recognize him?

But as if mocking his hope, she soon met the Crown Prince’s gaze and smiled brightly, saying this was her first romance.

In that instant, darkness clouded Cedric’s vision.

The heavens are truly indifferent.

Born as a noble in a region plagued by pirate invasions, he had spent his entire life being exploited.

And now, even his prospective bride was being taken right before his eyes…

Cedric felt frustrated and wronged, but reality was merciless.

The man beside her was none other than his benefactor, the Crown Prince.

Not just a benefactor.

If he wanted to survive in the empire, he could not cross the Crown Prince.

The Crown Prince’s influence was said to be so great that even the Emperor was considered merely a puppet among the imperial nobility.

And indeed, it made sense.

To be granted an audience with the Emperor, one had to first receive permission from Crown Prince Alesto.

To harbor ill intentions toward the Crown Prince’s lady?

It was equivalent to lying down and awaiting death.

But that wasn’t all.

There was an even more pressing problem: Asha had no idea of his existence.

That’s right.

They were complete strangers to each other.

Whether by a hair’s breadth or a single step missed, the current reality was as such.

He had to give up.

No matter how he thought about it from any angle, there was simply no answer.

The fire in his heart had to be buried under dirt to extinguish it, and he would need to forcibly direct his gaze toward another woman.

He knew that.

His mind understood that this was what he must do, yet why did his chest feel so suffocating?

As Cedric sank into gloom, Steward approached.

“Marquis.”

Cedric drew in a deep breath and let out a heavy sigh instead of replying.

His heart simply could not settle.

After a long silence, he slowly rose and turned his back to the lake.

Then, as if organizing his thoughts, he spoke quietly to Steward, his longtime friend and advisor.

“I’ll postpone returning to Dalbert for now.”

Steward’s voice dropped, as if unsure what to say.

“Marquis…”

Cedric patted Steward’s shoulder and spoke with a feigned brightness.

“What are you thinking? Now that the pirates are dealt with, we should prepare for maritime trade. While we’re in the capital, it’s best to gather some information.”

Steward’s expression immediately brightened.

“Ah! I see! Then… shall we attend the ball to expand your connections?”

“Good idea.”

“I’ll prepare your formal attire!”

Steward clapped his hands in delight, while Cedric hid his guilt.

He knew.

He couldn’t spend his life pining after another man’s woman.

It was wisest to meet another lady quickly and return home.

Yet.

Despite knowing this rationally, his heart kept imagining other possibilities.

In this state, he could not bring himself to return to his homeland.

So, at least until he could suppress this feeling…

Just a little longer… he wanted to remain here.

Inside the carriage returning to Blossom.

Alesto closed his eyes quietly.

He had asked the Saint if she preferred not to check who the man was, but by the time she had briefly called out, he had already noticed the man sitting behind her.

He hadn’t seen his face clearly, but the white suit with gold trim was unmistakably a style long associated with southern nobles.

Alesto was displeased simply that she had glanced away so easily—but the man in question was Marquis Cedric Dalbert.

He was the Saint’s prospective bridegroom, the man she would have gone to if she had not been confused in the lavender gardens of the temple.

And he would have allowed her to be confined as well.

Does she still have lingering feelings?

It was possible.

After all, the Saint had attempted an escape just last night.

If not for her physical limits, she would have fled to Dalbert.

It seemed highly likely she had turned back time at least once and favored Marquis Dalbert.

Or perhaps she had some other purpose with him.

Either way, it was almost certain that she wanted to go to Dalbert.

Dalbert is quite lucky, then.

Earlier, when the Saint had called out briefly at the restaurant, Dalbert had two options.

One was to look straight at him and challenge him to a duel.

Any reason would have sufficed.

Even something as simple as casting a flirtatious gaze at the Crown Prince’s lady and sullying her honor would have been enough.

Dalbert could hardly have denied it.

Honestly, Alesto didn’t consider the Saint his ideal type, but objectively, she was beautiful.

Even without the ability to turn back time, any man would have at least glanced back at her once.

And yet, there was something slightly scruffy about her.

Even dressed up for an outing, the small imperfections remained, giving her an endearing, somewhat messy charm.

Her small stature invoked a protective instinct in men.

It was entirely plausible that Dalbert had taken an interest the moment he saw her.

The other option was the situation at hand.

By accepting the Saint’s brief request, Dalbert restricted his own freedom in return.

In other words, he chose to confine her properly rather than risk losing a leg.

Not bad.

It seemed the Saint didn’t mind being confined for now.

He would let her stay, and see how this romance developed.

Meanwhile, Asha thought:

How did it come to this?

I only wanted a cozy Imperial confinement.

Of course, she was on her way to be confined by the Emperor—but the important cozy part was missing.

She had hoped for a sunny day, a simple walk.

As she cautiously glanced at Alesto across from her, he spoke.

“You said it was your dream to be caught by a handsome man and loved, and you gave permission to be confined. So, may I assume you have no complaints?”

Alesto’s tone was even, which made it all the more intimidating.

“Uh? Ye… yes…”

They arrived at the Almond Palace.

Alesto politely opened the door.

“Please, come in.”

His voice was unusually gentle.

But it’s still confinement…

Asha stepped forward, unable to resist, and entered the Almond Palace. As the door was about to close, she grabbed it and asked:

“May I ask how long you intend to keep me confined?”

Alesto met her gaze silently, then slowly replied:

“Until trust is established.”

Hearing there was no set date, Asha’s eyes drooped downward.

“I’ll come again tomorrow.”

The door of the Almond Palace closed with a thud.

Thunk.

The next day, at the Emperor’s palace, Forest.

A corridor steeped in quiet.

Red carpets lined the floor, and countless paintings and golden candlesticks adorned the walls.

The sound of a man’s polished shoes echoed in the silence.

Tap, tap.

He arrived at a space where no door separated the corridor from the room, and the waiting maids immediately bowed in unison.

Passing them without a glance, Alesto went straight to the main seat at the banquet hall.

He was slightly late, as usual, and the Emperor waited as usual.

Only when Alesto said, “Please, eat,” did the Emperor pick up his fork.

It was an unusual sight, but no one in the hall questioned it.

As the quiet meal continued, the Emperor cleared his throat and spoke cautiously:

“I’d like to go out for a while…”

Alesto slowly chewed the food in his mouth and took a sip of wine.

“The aroma is nice,” he murmured.

A servant nearby quickly reported:

“Wépong, vintage 607.”

Alesto was surprised.

The Wépong wine had long ceased production, and the 607 vintage was practically non-existent among the royal collection.

“Is there still Wépong wine left?”

The servant lowered his gaze and answered cautiously:

“His Majesty prepared it for you.”

Alesto smiled kindly, as if understanding the situation.

It was a good gesture to prepare a gift for a small favor.

Indeed.

To seek permission, one must first show sincere effort.