#22. Liking Someone’s Appearance
Though the request came suddenly, Penrel obeyed and prepared the carriage. It was the best one they could procure in a hurry from within Reden.
Still, it was no match for anything from the royal family. When Penrel suggested borrowing one from the Mebasa royal family, the king replied simply:
“This one used to belong to the Reden prince.”
There was a faint trace of contempt in the king’s expression as he said that. From this, Penrel could tell the king didn’t think highly of his bride’s older brother.
Perhaps the reason he rushed the bridal payment was to cut ties with the Mebasa family as soon as possible. The mood in the palace was certainly off.
It had only been two days since their arrival, but Penrel had picked up on it clearly.
As his thoughts wandered down that path, Penrel found himself curious about what had happened between the king and the bride’s family — but he didn’t dare ask. Conveniently, a servant of the Reden king arrived at that moment.
The servant conveyed that his king had invited their king to a breakfast meeting. The king accepted, and then asked:
“Will the princess be attending as well?”
At the time, Penrel had assumed it was just a formal inquiry — perhaps personal curiosity on the part of the soon-to-be husband.
He never imagined the king would bring the bride out with him immediately after breakfast.
So when the king emerged hand-in-hand with the Reden princess — whom he had only seen in portraits — Penrel couldn’t believe his eyes. It was only natural. No one escorted a bride like that.
Sure enough, even from afar, it was clear the princess looked displeased. But the king casually helped her into the carriage anyway. Watching the scene, Penrel felt like fainting.
The king treated his new bride like they had been married for years, and had just fought the night before.
At this rate, they’d never be able to build a good relationship.
When the carriage door shut and the king approached, Penrel lowered his voice and cautiously asked,
“Did you bring Her Highness out the moment breakfast ended?”
Idren looked at the knight, who was staring at him in shock, and asked back,
“Didn’t I say I was going to?”
As far as he could remember, he had said something like that — though there had been so much going on yesterday, it was hard to be sure.
Fortunately, his memory hadn’t failed him. Penrel nodded.
“Yes, you did say that, but…”
He hesitated. Since it was rare for Penrel to add his own thoughts, Idren waited patiently.
Finally, the knight seemed to have chosen his words.
“Did Her Highness agree to this situation willingly?”
“If that’s what you’re worried about, don’t be. She won’t mind.”
No, sir. Her expression clearly said otherwise…
Penrel silently recoiled in horror at his master’s cluelessness. Usually, people who were head-over-heels in love did better in their first relationship. But at this rate, the marriage would be doomed before it even began.
Carefully, Penrel spoke again.
“To my eyes… her expression didn’t look too happy.”
Idren replied, as if brushing off a pointless concern:
“You’re probably imagining things.”
Ophelia’s face hadn’t looked pleasant since breakfast — and Idren knew very well why. The cause had been him.
In fact, she had calmed down quite a bit. When greeting the Reden king and prince, hadn’t she looked ready to strike someone?
Ophelia certainly had the kind of personality that would. The wrecked room she’d left behind was proof of that.
Breaking a room was one thing — he could tolerate that. But not until they crossed the canal. So Idren had whispered to her earlier:
“Try not to look like you’re about to kill someone.”
To which she replied:
“Unless you want to be that someone, shut up.”
What else could he say after that?
So he let her glare at everyone else. He could handle being complicit in his wife’s imaginary murders — but he had no intention of becoming one of her victims.
Ending that brief memory, Idren mounted his horse. His knight, still looking uneasy, said:
“I’m no expert, but I don’t think that’s how you should treat your future wife…”
The comment piqued Idren’s curiosity. He tilted his head toward the knight.
“How am I treating her?”
In his previous life, Penrel had never taken Ophelia’s side.
His knight had often pitied him instead, and had never said a word about Ophelia — holding to the belief that it was better to stay silent than speak ill.
But now that same knight was telling him he was wrong. It was surprisingly refreshing.
After a moment’s hesitation, Penrel answered in a small voice:
“It’s like you’re treating her less like a new bride and more like… a long-married wife you just had a fight with.”
“…You’ve come back too, haven’t you?”
“Pardon?”
“No, forget it. Anyway, we’ve wasted too much time. Let’s get moving.”
Penrel obeyed without another word. But Idren could still tell he was glancing over anxiously.
To his ever-worrying knight, he said,
“Ophelia won’t make a big deal of anything. Don’t worry.”
It was a reasonable guess — Ophelia wouldn’t be moved by anything that small. But clearly, his knight didn’t believe him.
Idren let him misunderstand. After two failed lives, he had learned — better to be the villain than the hero.
Through the window, blue waters rippled in the distance. Ophelia instantly recognized the canal between Reden and Aglante. It was her first time seeing it in this life.
In her previous one, she had transported Reden’s assets through that canal.
At the time, she was nearing death — the wealth didn’t even matter — but she had ordered it all sent to Sigdrasil Palace. A sort of compensation for the man who’d lost his wife after just three years…
As she recalled that, irritation crept into her.
Now that she thought about it, she had compensated Idren. Even if Reden was a declining kingdom, the royal assets were still considerable.
Plus, the personal fortune she had amassed from investments would’ve gone to him. The Mebasa family had already collapsed, and since she’d had no children, he would’ve been her sole heir. Naturally.
It should’ve been more than enough to cover the bride price he paid to bring her to Aglante.
And yet Idren had acted like he never received a thing — like he was a helpless victim. As if she had wounded him so deeply, he just had to interfere in her life again.
Until now, she had been too overwhelmed to fight back. But now that things were calmer, she had no intention of letting it continue.
She was just deciding she’d bring it up when she had the chance, when—
Knock, knock.
“May I come in?”
Only then did she realize the carriage had stopped. Annoyed, she snapped:
“Do as you please.”
Idren entered without hesitation, unfazed. Truly, a man who could shamelessly wipe his hands clean even after taking so much money.
In her previous life, she hadn’t realized he was this shameless. You really don’t know someone until you experience them, she thought bitterly.
As he sat across from her, he casually said,
“Is there a clown passing by out the window? You should look someone in the eye when you’re talking.”
So Ophelia locked her bright yellow gaze onto him. But he wasn’t satisfied.
“Don’t look at me like that. If you’re upset, say it.”
“Don’t you remember what I said last time?”
“Well, how can anything change if you don’t speak up?”
Idren glanced at her, gauging her reaction.
He had told Penrel not to worry — that she wouldn’t mind. But the closer they got to the canal, the less confident he felt.
In her previous life, Ophelia had only lived surrounded by the finest things. He didn’t know what life in the Reden palace had been like, but at least while she was with him, it had been that way.
So she might be unhappy about such a rushed departure, without any formal procession. Her only companions were a few maids.
Granted, the Reden palace had promised to send the rest of the procession later, and Ophelia had said she didn’t care about bringing anyone along… But given how much they had argued, maybe she hadn’t spoken honestly.
He brought up the thing that had been weighing on him:
“I’m sorry you didn’t get to have a formal wedding procession.”
“That really doesn’t matter. Didn’t I say so earlier in the garden?”
“Then what’s bothering you?”
Ophelia stared at him for a moment — then suddenly scowled. Her soft bridal makeup now drenched in visible annoyance.
“I’ve been thinking… You seriously have no conscience.”
The sudden remark made Idren frown.
“What are you talking about?”
“With the inheritance I left behind, you more than got your bride price back. So why are you trying to marry me again in this life?”
Before he could respond, she added:
“Of course, I do know you like my looks.”
“W–what?”
He stammered in disbelief, but Ophelia wasn’t buying it.
There was no way he liked her personality — so what else could it be but her face?
She cut off any protest before it began:
“But if you’re that into this face, why not just find someone else who looks like me? Why cling to something that clearly won’t work?”
