Chapter 31. When Will You Tell Them?

 Edmund examined his neck.

 Feeling the soreness in various spots, he looked at Clea.

 “My neck hurts.”

 “Isn’t it better than your lips?”

 “Ha, you’ll never say you won’t bite, will you?”

 Looking at the marks on Edmund’s neck, Clea smiled as if pleased.

 “I like these marks.”

 The traces she had left seemed to announce who he belonged to.

 Clea quietly caressed Edmund’s neck.

 Edmund briefly took her hand and brought it to his cheek.

 “I like you too.”

 Then he kissed the back of her hand.

 Clea found his action cute and moved closer.

 But Edmund saw the time outside the window and rose from his seat first.

 “If I don’t get up now, I’ll have less time to spend with you tonight.”

 “Then I should let you go.”

 “You’re letting me go too easily.”

 “I’ll have many regrets if I keep you longer.”

 Edmund wanted to ask what she regretted at the end, but he just smiled.

 “I’ll visit often.”

 “Don’t push yourself too hard.”

 “Talking with you is like rest time for me too.”

 “Alright. Then visit often.”

 With those final words, Edmund rose from his seat.

 Even as he reached the door, he turned back and waved to Clea.

 When she was with Lloyd, she always saw only the back of his head, but this situation was completely different.

 ‘Who am I comparing to whom?’

 The two figures she was comparing were incomparable.

 While Lloyd was a person who acted like an immature child relying only on the grand ducal family’s prestige, Edmund was different.

 He was always cautious about actions that might burden others, more rational than anyone, and a practical person.

 He was already someone with a deep sense of responsibility to rule the vast empire.

 After Edmund disappeared, Clea, left alone in the spacious room, examined the back of her hand.

 “Has it really slowed down a bit?”

 After being cursed, the second hand had only ever accelerated, never once slowing down.

 Therefore, she had never thought the second hand would slow down even when she was with Edmund.

 Even if it felt that way, she thought it must be her imagination.

 But recently, she felt a definite sense of dissonance.

 Just being around him made her body and mind comfortable.

 The curse had taken away her health and gave her periodic pain as if to make it impossible to forget.

 However, when she was beside Edmund, the pain disappeared as if it had never existed.

 “It’s still difficult to be certain, but…”

 Clea thought.

 It was too early to be certain.

 Even if the second hand had slowed a little, it could speed up again as if nothing had happened.

 The clock hadn’t stopped. It had merely slowed down a bit.

 She tried not to forget this point.

 “I don’t want you to be sad because of me. So when the time comes…”

 Looking at her palm where the warmth had disappeared until just a moment ago, she clenched her fist.

 It was still just her imagination, but it was something that could appear right before her at any moment.

 Growing melancholy reflexively after giving in to desire, she made one firm resolution.

She wanted to ensure Edmund wouldn’t be sad because of her.

 Yet she still wanted to be by his side.

 ‘For that, I need to find a way to break the curse.’

 She began to reason seriously.

 Until now, she had never thought about breaking the curse.

 But as a glimmer of possibility began to appear, she thought perhaps there might still be a chance.

 A chance to live happily here with Edmund.

 Having finished that thought, she rose from her seat.

 ‘If I look into anything related to the curse, something will turn up.’

 She first wanted to organize her memories of the original story she knew.

 Originally, she had planned to quietly die and disappear when the time came, so she hadn’t even thought about the original story.

 Just then, a maid brought news from outside.

 “Lady Clea, Lord Philip requests to meet you.”

 At the news of Oberon’s arrival, she recalled his actions when she last saw him.

 “Come to think of it, I still have things to discuss with him.”

 Thinking she’d been spared the trouble of seeking him out, she changed her clothes and prepared to receive her guest.

 * * *

 Oberon was looking at Clea with a serious expression.

 On the other hand, Clea ignored Oberon’s gaze.

 “When do you plan to reveal it?”

 “Reveal what?”

 She wasn’t unaware of what he was asking.

 And Oberon also knew well why she was avoiding answering.

 Confirming that she had no intention of discussing this, he decided to ask something else.

 “Since when have you been like this?”

 Clea closed the book she was reading and looked at Oberon.

 Her gaze contained neither displeasure nor sadness.

 When their eyes met, it seemed that Oberon, who had asked the question, became even more rigid.

 But Oberon didn’t back down either.

 He truly wanted to know more about her.

 ‘She’s going to be the Crown Prince’s consort, and above all, the Empire’s future depends on it.’

 So he was rationalizing to himself that he absolutely needed to know.

 But for some reason, he felt increasingly restless inside.

 Meanwhile, Clea, watching him, could easily notice his feelings.

 So she felt less displeasure than before.

 “I don’t even remember since when.”

 “……Have you never thought about getting better?”

 “Going to the hospital and getting examined by a doctor? Continuing this terrible life afterward would be like choosing to live in hell.”

 “Hell?”

 “At least it was like that back then.”

 What else could describe it if not hell?

 Clea laughed when she thought of those times.

 Even though she had lived without paying much attention, she could still distinguish how she was treated.

 As Grit had said at the end, she had lived there as a tool.

 ‘But now I’m happy at least.’

 If darkness and light existed, that time was darkness, and now her life was covered in light.

 Meeting Edmund was like light to her.

 “Then how about now?”

 Oberon asked, watching Clea smile happily, unlike before.

 Clea hesitated for a moment, but soon said.

 “I’m happy.”

 “Then shouldn’t you at least get treatment?”

 “There’s no need for that.”

 “Why not?”

 Oberon’s question carried desperation.

 Clea wasn’t surprised by why he had become desperate.

 She just found it annoying.

 Still, she was in a good mood today, so she answered.

 “Because treatment is meaningless.”

 “Meaningless?”

 Oberon intended to ask something else as well.

 But Clea seemed unwilling to answer further and turned her head away.

 Oberon felt conflicted, but he didn’t bother her anymore.

 He was careful with his actions, fearing that if he caused her stress, bright red drops of blood might come from her mouth like that day.

 In fact, Clea hadn’t meant anything special by her words.

 ‘If others could treat it, Aria would have recovered long ago. The imperial palace doctors probably don’t have anything special either.’

 Leaving it to others was impossible.

 It meant she had to solve it herself. But Oberon couldn’t possibly understand that.

 “Please don’t do this.”

 “What are you doing?”

 Oberon knelt on the floor with a desperate heart.

 Clea, who had been watching quietly, frowned and asked him.

 Then Oberon answered.

 “At least the people in the imperial palace like you.”

 “I know that. But what does that have to do with anything?”

 Anyone with eyes and ears could tell.

 At least everyone in the Crown Prince’s palace treated her without prejudice.

 It was completely different from those who had tormented her because of the rumors.

 She could understand Oberon’s words because their behavior was too natural to suggest Edmund had warned them in advance.

 But she found it difficult to understand why he told her not to do this.

She frowned, and Oberon swallowed hard.

 “What do you want?”

 After hearing Oberon’s words, she frowned even more and asked.

 “Oberon, what on earth are you talking about?”

 “Would you like revenge on those who hurt you?”

 Suddenly the conversation veered in a different direction. Clea found it difficult to follow.

 One thing she could be certain of was that he was making some huge misunderstanding.

 She wished someone would point out where things had gone wrong.

 But only she and Oberon were present.

 Oberon had the same sharp gaze as when they met in the carriage.

 It seemed as if he might pounce like a wolf the moment she nodded her head.

 ‘It is certainly what I want though.’

 Still reluctant to leave her affairs to others, she shook her head and said.

 “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I won’t do what you suggested, so why don’t you sit down?”

 Seeing Clea clearly avoiding an answer, Oberon rose from his seat.

 “No. I just remembered something I need to do.”

 “I still have things to say.”

 “Then please speak.”

 “Don’t ever tell anyone else.”

 Clea repeated her warning, thinking he might have forgotten what she’d said before.

 The reason for her warning was also the same as before.

 “I don’t want others worrying about me because of this.”

 Having roughly guessed how things might become troublesome, she explained briefly.

 But once again, Oberon misinterpreted her vague answer.

 He thought she was worried about making those who liked her sad and didn’t want those who disliked her to rejoice.

 “Yes, I understand.”

 And so Clea sent Oberon away, regretting that she hadn’t explained herself more thoroughly.