AWLC 08

Chapter – 08

The Saint’s attire?

Why was she taking a walk at this late hour in such a remote place?

And alone, no less?

Alesto had no intention of questioning her from the start.

The reason was simple: whatever he asked, she would surely lie.

It was obvious she had tried to escape—but now she was saying she was just out for a walk?

And on top of that, she obediently got into the carriage without any fuss.

“Clumsy at hiding her embarrassment, yet brazenly shameless.”

Alesto didn’t want to ask her questions just to make her uncomfortable, nor did he want to hear her lies.

So, he let the Saint’s attempted escape pass off as a simple walk.

However, ignoring it and giving a warning were two different things.

Thus, in a casual tone, almost jokingly, he spoke.

“Taking a walk, huh? Good to know. For a moment, I thought you might be trying to escape.”

The Saint flinched as if struck in the heart, but quickly composed herself and denied his words.

“R-really? I wasn’t thinking of running away at all… haha.”

Alesto nodded and replied lightly.

“I just meant that the thought might have crossed your mind for a moment. Surely you had no intention of actually running away. You said yourself when we first met that it was fine to keep you confined until you trusted me. And yet, running away? That makes no sense.”

Asha realized she was cornered.

‘Isn’t that basically a declaration of confinement?’

Comfortable imperial imprisonment or not, at this rate she could easily end up trapped by a future tyrant.

Shivering, she discreetly pulled a blanket around her shoulders like a cloak, buttoning it in front to cover herself.

“Are you cold?”

“Yes, a little… maybe the walk was too long.”

At that moment, the Crown Prince reacted oddly.

He fidgeted with his hands a few times, then asked cautiously:

“May I help you with that?”

Asha’s eyes went wide.

The reason she had wrapped herself in the blanket was to hide her servant outfit, and her instincts screamed that she should refuse—but…

“Uh… yes.”

Her mouth answered on its own. Not entirely on its own—refusing would have been difficult anyway.

She worried that refusing might look suspicious, that a weakness might be exposed, or maybe she just felt pressured—whatever the reason, it was impossible to refuse.

As soon as she spoke, he approached, and surprisingly, there was a gentle warmth about him.

She couldn’t explain why, but it felt unexpected.

And then, his careful touch startled her.

The slow, gentle movement felt so tender that, for a moment, she completely forgot he was a future tyrant.

Thump.

‘Thump? Why thump?’

He straightened the blanket around her neck and used his pin brooch to secure it in front so it wouldn’t come loose, then stepped back without hesitation.

Asha blinked rapidly, trying to shake off her embarrassment.

Why was he suddenly acting so kind?

Then she realized something: his demeanor hadn’t changed from the start.

‘He’s always been polite and gentle with me. And… kind?’

Right. He did buy her meat when she was hungry, so technically he was a kind person.

But why so kind?

He’s supposed to be a future tyrant.

A voice suddenly echoed in her mind.

“I view Miss Asha as a romantic interest. I like her.”

Suddenly, Asha had an epiphany.

‘This is exactly like the cliché: [Cold and stern tyrant, but warm only to his girl.]’

In the original story, the female lead married Cedric, so Alesto’s character wasn’t fully explored—but if his personality was meant to be “warm only to his girl,” then… it made sense.

‘But am I really the Crown Prince’s “girl”?’

In the original, the Crown Prince had no romantic partner, so there was no guarantee it would be her.

There was no way to know for sure.

Meanwhile, Alesto himself was slightly flustered.

His offer to adjust the Saint’s blanket had been completely impulsive.

‘Why did I do that?’

Perhaps because she looked pitiful in her shabby state?

She truly did look miserable—red-cheeked from the cold, in tattered servant clothes, her makeup wiped away, hair a mess.

Her energy low, she had a pitiful voice, and her eyes pleaded to get into the carriage.

She looked so insignificant.

From above in the carriage, her small, frail body looked even smaller.

She looked pathetic, and the way she held the blanket was clumsy.

Helping her with it impulsively gave him an odd feeling.

Until she settled properly, she sat quietly, her face slightly flushed—a sight that tugged at him.

‘What is this?’

Something about her quiet compliance, her close-up face, made him feel a sudden urge to care for her—but also a strange irritation.

‘No, the Saint isn’t my ideal type. I just used her as a convenient excuse with Gerald.’

His ideal type was someone fated to be impossible to find.

The Saint simply required attention, which triggered his instincts slightly.

He calmly sorted out his agitation.

Meanwhile, Asha was internally cataloging this situation as a cliché.

Alesto was undoubtedly [a tyrant warm only to his girl], and his caring attitude confirmed it—so his “girl” was probably her.

Objectively, this wasn’t a bad situation.

Since discovering she was in a novel-world, her goal had been to preserve her body, avoid an early death, and live comfortably until old age.

The reason she had agreed to Cedric’s confinement wasn’t profound.

He was the male lead, and aside from some traits, he was depicted as a kind, devoted man.

All she needed was a comfortable home, leisure, and safety—not Cedric himself.

In short, the only change was that Alesto, not Cedric, was providing imperial confinement—and the situation itself wasn’t worse.

‘Surprisingly simple, huh?’

Moreover, Alesto was extremely, overwhelmingly, ridiculously handsome.

Before arriving in this world, she would never have imagined even speaking to someone like him.

And he was the Crown Prince.

He had wealth, power, looks, and was devotedly gentle only toward his girl—a perfect man.

Plus, he had no intention of harming her, was polite and kind, and even viewed her as a romantic interest.

With all that…

‘I don’t need to run away, do I?’

While Asha and Alesto sorted out their thoughts, the carriage steadily made its way to Blossom Palace.

Alesto escorted Asha to her quarters.

“You must be tired from such a long walk. Please rest early tonight.”

His voice was gentle, as if speaking to a child.

‘How long has it been since I’ve heard a goodnight like this?’

Feeling a strange warmth, Asha tilted her head slightly.

She suddenly wondered what “early” meant here.

“What time is ‘early’?”

Alesto looked at her for a moment, then took a pocket watch from his coat.

“Usually around ten o’clock, but it’s already past that. How about going to bed by eleven tonight?”

Asha checked the wall clock in her room and nodded without hesitation.

It seems the concept of time in this world isn’t much different from the modern world.

“Hmm, usually ten o’clock. Very well. Goodnight.”

With a light glance, the bedroom door closed.

Standing alone in the dim corridor as the light faded, Alesto lingered for a moment.

Had it been because of his words that the Saint considered eleven o’clock as her early bedtime?

‘….’

He felt a strange fluttering in his chest, though perhaps it was just his imagination.

As for the marriage contract, he decided to keep it quiet for the time being.

After all, his goal was the Saint’s love, and it was better if she believed in a marriage of her own will.

The contract would be kept until the very last moment—only to be used if she refused him or tried to leave.

That would be the time to tell her: “No matter what, you cannot leave.”