What Is This Person Even Saying?
“Clementina! Thank goodness, I’ve been looking for you.”
The moment I exited Lake Nympée, there he was.
I couldn’t help but come to a complete stop.
(Wha… why is he here!?)
I knew he was coming to Nympée.
But this was far too soon.
Arriving almost at the same time as the royal envoys? That was simply impossible.
Inside, my mind was a swirling storm of confusion and unease, but I was used to hiding my emotions. Maintaining a calm demeanor, I asked him—His Majesty:
“Your Majesty, why are you here?”
“I came to see you. To talk, Clementina.”
I have no intention of talking to you.
I wanted to slap him with a resounding ‘NO,’ but after all, he was still the sovereign of a nation.
(What… is with that honeyed tone…)
Where was his usual sneer, that hah of scorn?
Now, after all this time, to suddenly act gentle? All it did was make my guard shoot up to the heavens.
The King narrowed his eyes with a soft smile, walking toward me with slow, measured steps, as if performing a dance.
Albeit without a partner.
“Sorry, Clementina.”
“… Huh?”
“You must have been lonely.”
“…………”
I couldn’t even tell what expression I had on my face right now.
But since my facial muscles hadn’t moved, I was probably either completely blank or expressionless, as if all emotion had drained from me.
(What is this person even saying…?)
It sounded like I’d stormed out of the house after a lovers’ quarrel.
His sudden shift in attitude was so extreme, my brain couldn’t keep up.
While I stood in stunned silence, he smiled as if this was all perfectly normal, reaching into his jacket pocket.
And what he pulled out…
“──”
Someone, please praise me for not screaming on the spot.
In his hand was a lock of my hair—the very bundle I had cut off that day.
Stunned, I could only gape as he smiled awkwardly, almost sheepishly.
There was no reason to be shy here, yet he was acting embarrassed.
“I kept it. I felt… it was your way of expressing yourself.”
“… What exactly… are you talking about?”
“You just have trouble being honest, don’t you?”
“──”
At this point, I felt like a person trying—and failing—to communicate with an alien.
(Wait a minute…)
He had… kept my hair!?
… Why!? How!?
For a split second, I wondered if he planned to use it for a curse, but his bashful demeanor suggested otherwise.
… Which only made it worse.
(This is… so gross…!!!)
I was repulsed to my very core.
I genuinely felt nauseous.
My insides were plunged into an ice age.
My body was reacting on pure instinct—every fiber rejecting the idea of even sharing the same air with him.
Because… it was hair. Hair!!
Who carries around someone else’s hair!?
Especially the hair of a wife you’ve treated like garbage, whom you plan to divorce!?
(This is incomprehensible…!!)
His thought process was beyond my comprehension, and I found myself taking several steps back.
(Is this harassment…?)
If so, it was terrifyingly effective.
Somewhere in my memories, I recalled reading that humans instinctively feel fear when faced with incomprehensible behavior.
No—enough of that.
I forced my increasingly escapist mind to stay grounded.
(Please, just stay away from me…)
I stared at him, more a glare than anything else, channeling a desperate, heartfelt prayer.
“… Your Majesty, why are you here?”
I asked again, my second time.
This time, he narrowed his eyes and smiled.
“Would it be a valid answer to say… because you’re here?”
“It would not. Your Majesty’s absence from the royal castle is inexcusable. What of the House of Lords?”
Thankfully, my voice didn’t tremble.
I was afraid.
Afraid of this man—afraid of his incomprehensible actions.
But he merely laughed.
“Hah, the House of Lords? They can be dealt with. I’m the king of this country.”
That may be true, but Leviathan wasn’t a monolith.
Even a king couldn’t act without the council’s consent, not without risks—especially someone as young as him.
(… This person is as unreasonable as ever.)
I felt like I was standing in front of a live bomb, not knowing when it might explode.
Keeping my guard up, I told him:
“Please return to the castle, Your Majesty.”
And also, please throw away my hair.
I mean it from the bottom of my heart—it’s revolting.
But he tilted his head slightly.
“When I do… you’ll come back with me, Clementina.”
What was he saying? Truly.
“… I’m on extended leave, officially applied for and granted. However, Your Majesty—”
“May I ask you something?”
“…!!”
The distance between us vanished in a single step.
I braced myself—but too late.
He grabbed my wrist and pulled me toward him, my body colliding with his chest.
The closeness made my skin crawl.
I looked up, only to see those violet eyes, gleaming fiercely, staring directly at me.
What do you think about this chapter?
