Married To The Enemy Kingdom's Illegitimate Prince
Chapter 40 — It’s Agonizing

Chapter 40: 40 — It’s Agonizing

"Now, tell me," Arlot bent down, brushing a finger across Cynthia’s reddened eyes. "Have you been crying?"

The silver-haired young woman simply shook her head.

With a soft chuckle, Arlot sat beside her, leaning his back against the wall, his gaze drifting to the broken window where a cold breeze swept through the room.

"Your Highness, what happened?" he asked, breaking the brief silence that had settled over them.

Without a word, Cynthia lowered her head onto Arlot’s shoulder and closed her eyes.

"You..." Arlot faltered, surprised by the gesture. He didn’t want to disturb her by questioning her strange demeanour—she surely had enough to deal with.

"I shouldn’t ask her," he thought.

As he sat there, he gently glanced at the weary young woman beside him. He wanted to ask her, "What made you cry so much that your eyes turned red?"

But he couldn’t.

He didn’t have the right.

As someone who had vowed to serve her for a lifetime, all he could do was wonder what had caused the strong young woman he admired to break down like this.

Cynthia let out a deep breath, her voice low and distant. "Have you ever loved someone so much that the love turned into hatred because that person only played with you, giving you false hope repeatedly when that person never intended to be with you?"

Arlot froze for a moment, his mind racing.

Why would she ask him that? He’d never seen her like this—vulnerable and seeming weak. Her usual strength seemed to fade, replaced by something fragile. However, that wasn’t true as she still managed to fight those assassins on her own.

Taking a deep breath, he considered her question carefully before shaking his head.

"Have you?" he asked hesitantly, his voice soft as if afraid of the answer. "I hope not. It sounds too painful."

Cynthia chuckled softly, but the sound held no warmth. She nodded, her voice barely above a whisper.

"It is agonizing. Very agonizing."

Arlot wanted to say more, to comfort her, but his words failed him. He glanced at her again, unsure of how to bridge the lack of words between them. Was it related to her husband? He had his suspicions but never dared to ask.

Sitting still, Cynthia’s thoughts drifted back to Lucian.

The kiss had been impulsive, born from emotions she could no longer control— anger, fury, anxiety.

Even now, she could still feel the heat of his lips, the desperation in the way she had clung to him.

She knew deep down the pillar of her hatred came from the love she had for him—and that terrified her.

The fear of losing him to someone else again gripped her heart like a vice, and she lost control like a foolish teenager.

She had lived two lives yet she behaved immaturely. The feelings she wanted to change within Lucian probably grew stronger— his hatred towards her was perhaps one she couldn’t overcome.

No matter how many lives she was given.

The bitterness that had settled between them was like a thick fog, impossible to clear no matter how much effort she put into it.

It was almost as if King Valerian wanted it that way; he wanted Lucian to distance himself from her by making him responsible for protecting the land of Erion, causing fights between the couple in their past life.

Cynthia wanted to avoid it happening once again but she was a villainess— the villain of her own story. She had ruined the slight progress she made with Lucian.

But... he’s always kind. To everyone. Even to his enemies. What if I fall for his gentle gestures again and he...

Cynthia pursed her lips, thinking about the king’s actions.

King Valerian had always doted on Lucian, despite him being an illegitimate prince. Hadn’t he? Why did he marry Lucian to an enemy kingdom’s princess? Wouldn’t his married life be hell? Or... maybe the king merely had no choice since he couldn’t marry off the crown prince to me.

She shook her head slightly, trying to clear her thoughts, but they kept circling back to the same painful memories of her past.

Perhaps it was because of that dream I had earlier.

Cynthia told herself to close her eyes, hoping to drift off to sleep so that her thoughts would simply vanish.

Arlot, sensing the shift in her, hesitated. He had known Cynthia for years, but he had never seen her so broken.

His instincts told him to reach out, to offer more than just his presence, but he knew she wouldn’t accept pity.

It wasn’t pride exactly—perhaps she feared it would strain their relationship. She never wanted to owe anything to anyone.

So, he simply stayed by her side, listening to the quiet sound of her breathing as she fell asleep against his shoulder, while the cold wind slipped through the shattered window.

Hearing her faint groans, Arlot gently lifted her and carried her to the bed. Whispering a few words, he flicked a green light between his fingers and pressed his warm hands to her forehead.

Gradually, the faint groans disappeared, and Cynthia slept peacefully.

With a soft sigh, Arlot closed his eyes, flicking a blue light around himself as his body lifted. He floated through the broken window, exiting the bedroom. Before leaving, he snapped his fingers once more, restoring the window to its original state.

"Sweet dreams, Your Highness," Arlot whispered softly, letting out a sigh as he flew away from the mansion.

After a while, Arlot entered a large tower on the fifth floor and landed on the ground.

"Why not use a teleportation portal? Flying is too much of a pain, isn’t it?" A middle-aged man, sitting at his desk and writing with a quill, asked without even lifting his gaze to see who had entered.

"How did you know it was me?" Arlot sighed, slumping his head into his hands.

"What’s with the sigh? Are you tired of me?" The man smiled, his red eyes finally lifting from his work, though his lips twitched in mild annoyance.

"No... it’s not that, Edric..." Arlot paused, hesitating.

Edric raised an eyebrow, waiting for a reply.

"Umm... it’s Her Highness..."

"Princess Cynthia?"

Arlot nodded, peeking through the gaps between his fingers.

"It seems I’ll need to visit that little girl. It’s been a while," Edric sighed, running a hand through his long green hair streaked with grey.

***

The loud knock jolted Cynthia awake. Disoriented, she blinked, momentarily hoping yesterday had been a nightmare.

But the memories flooded back, making her slump against the bed with a deep sigh.

What have I done?!

The door creaked open, and Elene stepped in, her dark hair neatly tied into a bun, dressed in a crisp marine-blue gown.

"What brings you here?" Cynthia asked, quickly regaining her composure.

Elene smirked, first bowing to the grand duchess, greeting her although her bow wasn’t performed in the right way.

It seemed deliberate disrespect to Cynthia but she couldn’t say nor do anything about it.

"Not yet," she told herself, clenching her fist.

"I heard you wanted to involve yourself in the estate’s affairs. But shouldn’t we consult the grand duke first? After all, his preference for handling things might not align with yours... and I have been doing it for years."

Elene’s mocking tone was unmistakable, reminding Cynthia that the grand duke favoured Elene. He didn’t even see Cynthia as his wife.

"Is that so?" Cynthia forced a smile, burying her fury beneath a calm facade.

She couldn’t afford another outburst. One reckless mistake had already cost her; she wouldn’t give Elene the satisfaction of knowing how deeply her words stung.

"Yes. How about I send your maids to help you change? Surely, you wouldn’t..." Elene paused, eyeing the young lady before her. "Oh my! Look at you. You haven’t even changed into your nightgown before bed?" She placed a hand over her mouth, feigning shock, though Cynthia could see she was merely hiding a sneer.

"I must have fallen asleep while waiting for His Highness," Cynthia replied, watching for the reaction she expected from Elene.

As predicted, the older woman’s smile faltered.

"You... you saw His Highness last night?" Elene demanded, clearly worried that her approval from the grand duke to manage the mansion was slipping.

"Oh yes. We even..." Cynthia trailed off, feigning shyness, averting her gaze and placing her hands on her cheeks, just as she’d read in her romance novels, hoping to mislead the older woman.

"I-I understand! No need to tell me..." Elene stammered, awkwardly chuckling. "I’ll send your maids," she added hastily before rushing out of the bedroom.

"How can this be?" the dark-haired woman muttered to herself, biting her nails anxiously. "It can’t be... he hates Eldorians! How could he forget what happened?"

Suddenly, she halted in her steps, her face lighting up with realization.

"Right. I just need to remind him why he hates them," she said, clapping her hands excitedly.