RYL Chapter 65

Chapter 65 

“Thank you, Princess!”

As I suddenly smiled brightly, something seemed to click in my mind.
Sabrina, Lilianne, and Edith looked at me curiously.

“What is it? Did you think of something?”
“Tell us too~”

Looking around at their eager faces, I smiled.

“First, we should invite opera singers.”

“What? You’re not firing me, right?”

Edith asked tearfully, making me laugh.

“Of course not.”

No, Edith was absolutely essential to this new idea.

I remembered what I had thought while watching the opera with the Crown Prince.
‘Wouldn’t it be interesting to combine the classical and the modern—to make something like a fusion performance?’

That thought had been vague back then, but now I felt like I finally had a clue where to start.
It was still an incomplete plan, almost just a dream, but it was worth developing.

While I was lost in thought, the Crown Prince suddenly came to mind.
Now that I think about it, it had been several days since his confession, and I still hadn’t given him an answer.
I should reject him properly in person, but because of all the salon work, I’d kept putting it off.

‘It’s probably best to talk face-to-face since it’s already been delayed this long.’

Just as I was thinking that, Simona suddenly said something that made my shoulders tense.

“Oh right, did you hear? Young Duke Laurentino is bedridden.”

I froze for a moment.
Mathieu, who had waited for me in the rain a few days ago, came to mind immediately.

‘Wait—don’t tell me he got sick because of that?’

Honestly… why did he do that to himself?
I didn’t ask him to wait. Why was he suddenly acting so dramatic now, after being so indifferent before? It only made me more frustrated.

As my face stiffened, Sabrina and Lilianne exchanged awkward glances.
Simona seemed to realize her slip and quickly covered her mouth.

“Oh… maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned that?”

The air turned a bit heavy, but Edith, ever cheerful, quickly changed the topic.

“Oh! This strawberry cake is amazing! Everyone, try it!”

Simona smiled warmly at her.

“If you like it that much, I’ll tell the chef to pack some more for you.”

“Really? Princess, you’re an angel!”

Calling the infamous villainess who once almost drove the heroine to death an angel…

Sabrina and Lilianne exchanged looks and muttered quietly, “The world really is unpredictable.”

Meanwhile.

Mathieu sat up in bed, groaning as pain throbbed in his head.
His shirt clung to him, damp with sweat.

A man with enough strength to knock down a bull, and yet—he’d caught a cold like a child.

Pathetic.
That’s how he felt as he rubbed his forehead in frustration.

He grabbed the medicine his doctor had left and swallowed it, chasing it down with the whiskey he had poured the night before.

The doctor had warned that alcohol was slowing his recovery, but he didn’t care.
He wasn’t taking the medicine to get better anyway.
He just needed something to dull the splitting headache.

In truth, being sick like this wasn’t all bad.
‘At least when I’m like this, I won’t wander around Claire like some fool.’

Maybe sweating it out would wash away these ridiculous feelings he had for her too.

Sitting slouched on the couch in his wrinkled clothes, he stared blankly out the window.

Then—knock, knock.

An annoying knocking sound pulled him back to reality.
He rubbed his temples irritably and growled toward the door.

“What is it?”

The butler’s voice came from outside.

“Young Duke, His Highness the Crown Prince has come to see you.”

“What?”

Mikael? Why him?

From childhood until now, Crown Prince Mikael had never come to see him first.
They had always maintained a polite friendship, but Mikael had kept a careful distance, as if constantly reminding Mathieu of their difference in rank.

The only time the prince had ever broken that rule… was because of Claire.

Frowning, Mathieu looked down at himself.
Mikael would, as always, be dressed perfectly—neat and proper.
He didn’t want to appear before him looking like this mess.

“Tell him I’ll come after I wash.”

Any other noble would’ve rushed out barefoot to greet the Crown Prince, but when Mathieu said he’d make him wait, the butler looked panicked.

“B-but, Your Grace…”

Mathieu scowled and swung the door open.

“Would you rather I go out looking like this?”

The butler froze at the sight of his master’s disheveled state—his hair damp, his shirt sticking to his skin.

“…Understood, sir.”

Mikael nodded lightly when the butler asked him to wait.
He didn’t seem impatient at all.

After a while, the door finally opened, and Mathieu walked in.
Despite the time he took to clean up, he still looked pale and exhausted.

“So, what brings Your Highness here?”

Mathieu’s tone was blunt as he sat across from Mikael.

Mikael studied him silently.
He had heard Mathieu was ill, but seeing him now, the change was worse than expected.
The man once praised as the Empire’s most handsome noble looked like a ghost.

‘So his feelings for Claire really are that deep, huh?’

A humorless smile tugged at Mikael’s lips.

They had shared countless drinks together with their mutual friend Alex.
Back then, Mathieu always complained about his engagement—
an unwanted political arrangement,
a kind but passive fiancée,
a relationship that suffocated him.

Mikael had listened to those rants countless times.

And now?

After the engagement was already broken, he had fallen for Claire?
It was ridiculous.
Infuriating, even.

Mikael’s jaw tightened.
He met Mathieu’s eyes squarely.

“You must’ve heard it that night too.”

Mathieu said nothing, but his silence was enough.

“I like Lady Claire,” Mikael declared firmly.

For a split second, Mathieu’s broad shoulders tensed—but only for a moment.
Still, Mikael didn’t miss it.

“You’re already broken off from her. So if you have any shame left, stay away from her.”

Mathieu, who had been sitting blankly, suddenly covered his mouth and gave a small, bitter laugh.

“Coming from someone who was sulking not long ago after being rejected by Lady Sinclair—that’s rich.”

“That’s…” Mikael’s voice faltered.

“The fact that you came here personally to say this means… you see me as a rival, doesn’t it?”

“Mathieu.”

Mikael’s warning tone filled the room, but Mathieu sat up straight, the humor gone from his voice.

“I want to ask you something, Your Highness.”

Mikael frowned slightly, taken aback by the sudden seriousness.

“When you said you like Claire—how serious were you?”

“…”

“I mean, was that just a momentary feeling, or did you consider her future too when you said it?”

At that, Mikael’s brows furrowed deeper.

“What, are you trying to play the protective brother now?”

“Call it ten years of camaraderie, then. Just answer me.”

Under Mathieu’s unflinching gaze, Mikael paused for a moment before replying.

“It wasn’t a light confession. She’s the first person I’ve ever wanted, even if it means going against everything expected of me.”

Mikael had lived his whole life within walls—
a fixed routine, fixed people, fixed duties.
He’d never complained. He’d accepted it as fate.

In Mathieu’s eyes, he and the old Claire had once been the same kind of people—
obedient, restrained, bound by duty.

But everything began to change after Claire’s rejection.
For the first time, Mikael had chosen to rebel against the world he’d been born into.

And now he claimed Claire was the only person he truly desired.

‘Can I say the same?’ Mathieu wondered bitterly.
Could he ever want her like that—openly, without shame?

He couldn’t.
He was too aware of what he’d done, too guilty to allow himself that.

With a faint, self-mocking smile, Mathieu lowered his head.

“You don’t need to worry, Your Highness. I won’t go near her anymore.”

The words sounded calm, but to him, they felt like lashes against his own heart.

“As long as you mean what you said—and take full responsibility for it.”

His final words were both a warning to the Crown Prince and a vow to himself.

As long as this line remained unbroken,
he would never recklessly approach her again.