TVIL 08

Chapter 08

Young Astrid hid behind the Emperor’s leg, showing only her large eyes as she stared fixedly at Lindell.

Even though she had returned to the age of ten and the tower she had painstakingly built had completely collapsed, Lindell felt a strange sense of exhilaration rather than despair or boredom when he saw the way she guarded herself against him.

He could start again.

That gaze staring straight at him, the tightly closed lips, even the wrinkle on the bridge of her nose as she frowned in wariness—every one of them was a signal that she was vividly alive.

During the half year he had spent watching Astrid, who had been little different from the dead, Lindell had thought about many things.

If he could meet her again—if he could meet her once more—there were things he wanted to say, questions he wanted to ask, and mistakes he wanted to undo.

But now that he actually faced her, only his failed plans came to mind.

He could not shake the thought that the crown he ultimately failed to obtain was once again resting in that woman’s hands.

Had she noticed the greed lurking inside him?

From their very first meeting, Astrid had run into the garden without even giving him a reply.

‘Astrid! That girl… This is embarrassing. I have no face to show the Duke.’

‘Not at all. It seems Her Imperial Highness the Princess was simply shy.’

The Astrid Lindell knew—both in the past and now—was never good at hiding her emotions.

The more she tried to conceal feelings stirred by the opposite sex, the more obvious they became.

Yes, Astrid had been a fortress destined to fall from the very beginning.

A kind older brother, a good friend, or a thrilling man.

Lindell could become any kind of person Astrid needed.

The problem was that the moment when Astrid would choose him seemed to be taking far too long, and instead it felt as if some kind of separate selection process for her marriage partner was underway.

That was what Lindell could not endure.

“Damn it…”

He didn’t know what the problem was.

He was trying his best to appear as charming a man as possible, yet she wasn’t falling for him as easily as before, and it made him anxious.

On top of that, these insignificant fools were running around near Astrid under the title of “husband candidates,” which inevitably sharpened his nerves.

The reason things were going wrong was Astrid.

Could it be that, like him, she remembered the past?

If that were why she wasn’t giving him a chance—

Lindell, whose thoughts had reached that point, lightly shook his head and cut off the endlessly branching hypothesis.

If Astrid remembered everything, then the moment she saw him her face would have turned pale and she would have either run away or resented him. There was no way she could act so nonchalantly and pretend to fall in love as if she knew nothing.

If someone regained their memories after time had reversed and then met the person they wished to take revenge on, pretending to be unaffected was a method Lindell himself might use—not Astrid.

The anxiety rising inside him stirred up all kinds of wild imaginations.

“…And then Her Imperial Highness said after hearing my tale of heroism, ‘You were truly brave. What a wonderful story.’ To be honest, I could clearly feel that she couldn’t take her eyes off me.”

Before Lindell could punch the face of the man in the center of the banquet hall who was disgustingly mimicking Astrid while acting out the scene, he left the party.

He needed an opportunity to drive the final nail.

This time, he would have to approach things a little differently.

* * *

The reconstruction of the Royal Library, a repository containing the history and knowledge of Yuzraeni, had finally been completed after three years.

Because it was such a historic and symbolic building, the Emperor himself was scheduled to attend the opening ceremony and deliver a congratulatory speech.

“I am pleased to be here today to share in such a historic moment.”

The Emperor paused several times while speaking, as if his lips were going dry, stopping to wet his throat.

As the successor, Astrid stood behind the Emperor and remained in place from the beginning of the ceremony to the very end.

Once the event finished and the gathering dispersed, people began leaving one by one.

Because she had remained tense the entire time, standing stiffly in place, Astrid was exhausted as she passed through the corridor and was about to return to her carriage.

Someone called her name.

“Astrid.”

It was her cousin, Isnil Ailia.

He was the second son of Marquis Ailia and had been close to Astrid since childhood.

To exaggerate slightly, they were practically like siblings.

Isnil playfully placed a hand on Astrid’s shoulder and pulled her into a side hug.

“Ugh, His Majesty is great and all, but the problem is that he talks too much.”

“Well, today ended earlier than usual though.”

At that, Isnil smacked his lips and narrowed his eyes before asking Astrid,

“By the way, how are your wedding preparations going?”

When asked the question, Astrid avoided Isnil’s gaze and muttered,

“It’s just the same as always…”

Isnil was someone who knew about Astrid’s unrequited love and the Emperor’s opposition.

Since she came of age, Astrid had repeatedly begged the Emperor that she wanted to marry Lindell, but the Emperor had never been fond of him.

Moreover, the Astrid he knew would not have wanted this atmosphere that felt like a spouse selection competition.

Wanting to comfort her since things were not going well, Isnil hugged her even tighter with more affection than usual.

“The same? How could it be the same when such an important event as marriage is ahead?”

“Mm…”

“I told you last time that if there’s something troubling you, you should talk to this older brother about it, right?”

When she gave an ambiguous answer, the arm wrapped around her tightened.

Feeling like she couldn’t breathe, Astrid struggled and pushed him away.

“Ah, stop it.”

“This won’t do. You should come by our estate. It sounds like we’ll have a lot to talk about over dinner.”

Even though he must have many personal matters keeping him busy.

Astrid let out a small laugh at Isnil’s kindness as he teased her while still looking out for her.

Although she was still annoyed that he ruffled her hair until it became tangled.

“Isnil! Do you still think I’m a child?”

Finally escaping from his arms, Astrid stepped two paces back to secure a safe distance and barely caught her breath.

Their bickering had grown loud enough that nearby nobles were glancing their way, but Isnil didn’t care at all.

“Are you even eating properly? Look at this wrist. It was already like a skewer before, and now it’s practically a twig.”

“It’s not that bad.”

Replying with a sulky face, Astrid quickly changed the subject as they walked away from the venue.

“Anyway, I heard you finished talking with Wolfram? Are you the one inheriting the family?”

At the smoothly shifted topic, Isnil scratched his cheek awkwardly before answering.

“Mm… it somehow ended up like that. I never dreamed that someone as free as the wind like me would end up bound by rules.”

As he tapped his shoulder as if the responsibility was killing him, a smile spread across Astrid’s lips.

“You do well whenever you’re told to. And the only thing that’s as light as the wind is your backside. If you just deal with your woman problems, you’d be a perfect Marquis Ailia.”

“Our little princess saying something like that—I don’t know what to do with myself.”

Astrid laughed at him as he responded to her sincere compliment with teasing, but then she noticed someone in the distance and poked Isnil in the side.

“Isnil. The person talking at the entrance of the corridor over there—Isn’t that Uncle?”

At that, Isnil made a displeased sound.

“So what if that old man is there? Anyway, you’re not going anywhere before filling your stomach at our house.”

“I think he’s with Count Borden. Ah, our eyes met.”

“What?”

The moment the steward’s surname was mentioned, the stubborn Isnil quickly turned his head in the direction Astrid indicated.

Marquis Ailia, who had been looking at Astrid, shifted his gaze to Isnil and crooked his finger with a fierce expression.

It meant he should come immediately.

“Ah, damn it. What is it this time?”

“It seems you should postpone dinner and go now, Young Marquis.”

“Wait a moment, Astrid.”

“Don’t worry about me and hurry. You’re busy.”

With that, Astrid waved her hand as she walked toward the place where the carriage was waiting.

Isnil stood there for a moment, conflicted as he looked back and forth between Astrid and his father, but it seemed he eventually decided to leave.

“I’m letting you go this time, you know? You know that, right? Don’t just mope around feeling upset—make sure you eat properly. Got it!”

Astrid had already walked quite far away and merely waved her hand silently.

It was a signal telling him to hurry up and go where he needed to.

Seeing Marquis Ailia’s expression growing increasingly grim, Isnil had no choice but to hurry off even without receiving a definite answer.

“When things get tough, make sure you talk to this older brother! It’s a promise!”

“Uncle’s angry. Hurry and go.”