9. Never run away from me again.
For a moment, her mind went completely white. Daphne stared wide-eyed at the half-naked man before her. Why—why was he standing there like that?
It wasn't that Ashelad had never shown a loose appearance in front of Daphne before. He'd often had more buttons undone than fastened.
But this was the most relaxed, languid state she had ever seen him in.
If she were the Daphne of the past, she might have thought being able to witness it was a privilege. But no such thought came to her now.
Daphne cast her wavering gaze downward. It felt as though she had seen something she shouldn't have, and she was utterly embarrassed. He was nearly shirtless.
"I believe I told you to lift your head."
The soft voice had hardened at some point. It was the voice of a man whose mood had soured. When Daphne raised her head, Ashelad was looking at her with a cold face.
"I thought you might have come in while I was changing."
"You came at just the right time."
"……"
"Change my bandages."
Following the direction of Ashelad's glance, Daphne found bandages. Bandages…?
Only then did Daphne properly take in Ashelad's body. His left arm was thicker than the rest. Probably because the bandage was wrapped over it.
Why would he ask me to do something like this?
But contrary to that question, her hands were moving steadily. It wasn't a question she had any right to ask in the first place.
Daphne forced down her bewilderment. Ashelad's green eyes caught every single moment of her flustered expression as it faded.
His hawk-like eyes seemed both displeased and intrigued.
With a stiff expression and lips pressed firmly shut, she looked at the half-naked man before her—more precisely, at the torso from the collarbone down that occupied her vision.
The body of Prince Pindus, who had assaulted and crushed Daphne, had been fleshy and thick, but Ashelad's body was cleanly defined.
So this was why his silhouette had always looked so trim—because of these lean muscles. Looking at the rugged contours so different from a woman's body, Daphne involuntarily swallowed, gulp.
The moment she reached out with trembling hands to grip the collar of his shirt and pull it off, a large hand seized her wrist. Daphne flinched.
"Why?"
Astonishingly, those were not words that had come from Daphne's mouth.
Daphne realized she could hear rough breathing right above her and turned her head. Eyes wide, she stared at the young man who had brought his face so close it could nearly kiss her forehead. Her slender wrist was already caught in his large hand.
"Why do you avoid me?"
"Avoid you?"
"Why do you run away from me?"
It was not the coercion or oppression that Prince Pindus had wielded. He had simply stopped moving, gazing at Daphne's face as if trying to talk—and somehow he looked both pitiful and angry.
Daphne's eyes went wide. Did he not know why she had avoided him?
Did he truly, not know?
Looking at him asking "why" while staring straight at her, Daphne felt a bewilderment tinged with despair, and disappointment.
Apart from what Daphne felt, was she supposed to simply follow this man and never have run away?
Even when he hadn't saved her and had pushed her toward the Prince of Pindus?
She had no idea where to begin explaining. At that vagueness and frustration, her breath caught in her throat. Ashelad didn't even have the awareness that she might be disappointed.
To him, this was simply natural.
"Daphne. Tell me."
It was natural for him to command her like this.
"Is it because I abandoned you to the Prince of Pindus?"
Daphne flinched. So he had known. Then did he truly not understand why she avoided him despite that? Seeing Daphne's expression, Ashelad smirked.
"Then what was I supposed to do?"
"……"
"The Kingdom of Pindus is supporting the subjugation of magical beasts in the southeast. We had a need to stay on friendly terms with them."
Ashelad twisted his thumb around Daphne's wrist. Then, suddenly, he spoke through gritted teeth.
"Or was I supposed to say that to that bastard?"
"……"
"'She's my weakness, so please spare her'?"
Daphne was more shocked that the curse "that bastard" had come out of Ashelad's refined mouth than by the word "weakness." He had always employed aristocratic rhetoric. On his face as he spoke of the Prince of Pindus was an undisguised loathing.
Had he ever hated someone like that before? Ashelad glared at Daphne as he spoke.
"Would the priests of Keres have simply gone to find you on their own?"
"……"
"Did I do something so terribly wrong? So wrong you'd never look at me again?"
For some reason, his voice sounded deflated. The disappointment-filled eyes belonged, in fact, to him.
Thanks to the priests, Daphne had not come to great harm. Ashelad had not cast her aside. On the contrary, he had rescued her from a dire situation. And yet she hadn't known any of it, and had turned away from him.
"I didn't know."
"……Why?"
"Because…."
"Daphne, I don't keep just anyone by my side. It's irritating, and a bother."
Ashelad lowered Daphne's hand and released her wrist. Now that the pressure of his grip was gone, she felt strangely empty.
"I don't ask just anyone to stay by my side forever."
"……"
"And yet you…."
What seeped through those words was a deep, settled disappointment. Daphne didn't know what to do. She felt as though she had committed a great sin.
Right, of course.
He was the crown prince. He had a position to maintain. How could someone as lowly as her—and moreover, someone whose own mistake had caused the whole affair—be defended openly?
He had worried about her. He had helped her.
Daphne's face slowly softened. She bit her lip.
"I'm sorry."
"……"
The discord in how Ashelad treated her no longer even crossed her mind, drowned in guilt. The suspicion that had been budding in him vanished without a trace in an instant.
"It's fine. I'm the one who let you misunderstand."
Ashelad generously forgave her. Daphne genuinely felt relieved by it.
"So never run away from me again."
Not realizing that those gentle words were a warning, Daphne smiled and answered quietly. Seeing that, Ashelad began moving toward the bed. He gestured with his eyes toward the bandages.
Ah, the bandages.
Sadly, Daphne had never actually wrapped a bandage properly before. But he had asked her to.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, Ashelad watched her as she worked. That smile looked genuinely pleased, which made Daphne happy as well.
When she pulled the shirt off, his bare body was revealed. Daphne, focused on unwinding the bandage, did not see just how devastatingly perfect his body was.
Only his wound mattered. Only the wound he had suffered.
As the bandage came away, a gruesome wound appeared. It had been gouged out where a spear had grazed past. It was still red, perhaps because the scab had not yet fully formed. Daphne soaked cotton from a medicine bottle and dabbed it onto the wound.
The height of the injured area didn't match where she sat, and without thinking, she braced her hand on his thigh.
"……"
For an instant, his breathing quickened, but Daphne assumed it was from the sting of the disinfectant. Her hands, applying medicine and wrapping the bandage, were surprisingly deft.
"Your Highness."
"……"
"You have a wound on your back as well."
To be precise, it wasn't a wound but a bruise. Daphne looked at the blue-black discoloration on his back.
"The spear scraped against your breastplate."
"……"
"His Majesty said the crown prince must show his face, so I wore only minimal armor."
What nonsense was that? Even as isolated as she'd been, she knew that jousting required a full suit of plate armor.
Wasn't her son's safety the most important thing?
"Oh, what are we to do… it must hurt so much."
She genuinely pitied Ashelad. Seeing those tearful eyes, Ashelad froze for a moment, dazed.
"And yet, I was always worried about you."
"……"
"Please don't get hurt. Please."
It was boundless affection. It was absolute love. He lowered his eyes at that compassion. Was it the relaxed smile of a victor? Just as a twisted smile was about to settle on his face—
Daphne placed her hand on the deeply bruised spot. He flinched violently. His shoulder blades twitched so excessively that her expression turned to alarm.
"I'm sorry, does it hurt a lot?"
"……"
Ashelad himself looked stunned, eyes wide as he stared at Daphne. He seemed to have been struck by something. In an instant, the easy smile that had lingered at the corner of his mouth vanished.
Daphne didn't know the reason for that expression.
"Do… does it hurt that much?"
"No."
"……"
"Go back now."
The words were a little cold. Hadn't he just forgiven her? Then why? Daphne was flustered by his suddenly clipped manner.
"That shirt…."
"Hurry."
"Yes, my lord."
Daphne rose from her seat. She was anxious. What if his heart changed all of a sudden? His heart….
"Um, Your Highness."
"……"
"Am I your weakness?"
It was a question tinged with hope. An innocent question, so very naive and pure.
Suddenly, Daphne's hand was yanked, and her body tumbled onto the bed. Because of that, her tightly bound hair came loose and spilled into disarray.
Daphne's eyes went round at this incomprehensible situation. It was exactly the same situation as with the Prince of Pindus.
And yet why was she neither frightened nor displeased by it?
"Who knows."
A murmuring voice laced with heat.
"Who knows, Daphne."
"……"
"Do you think you're my weakness?"
Daphne shook her head. She gave a small laugh as she spoke.
"I'm a lowly person, after all."
"……"
"So I couldn't possibly be your weakness."
It was a bitter act of self-assessment. She knew her place all too well.
"Ha…."
A breath escaped Ashelad's lips. It was like a sigh, or perhaps the release of hot air that had filled his whole body. Ashelad reached out and stroked Daphne's cheek.
"Go on."
At Ashelad's words, Daphne rose from her seat. When she opened the door and stepped out, laughter rang out from beyond it.
"Ha, haha!"
It was the laughter of someone who had just watched a hilarious farce. At nineteen, Ashelad had, for the first time in his life, been aroused by the sight of a woman.