ITMFYWCLBU 11

The Shredded Flower 4

Posted by rvellovies86, Released on February 10, 2026

Nothing happened on Clarisse’s first night of watch. Nothing happened on the nights the other attendants took their turns, either—and then Clarisse’s second night came around.

Unfortunately, it was raining today.

Not a heavy downpour, but a fine drizzle that had begun in the evening and simply wouldn’t stop.

Is Alexis going to come again today…?

Spending the whole night alone with Alexis was, for Clarisse’s mental well-being, truly not ideal. For someone trying to lock her feelings away, it was bordering on torture. She’d never realized how painful it was—being unable to love someone the way she wanted to, having to crush her own heart under her heel like this. The resentment and despair of being betrayed two years from now weren’t enough to keep it under control.

Wrapped in a blanket and staring into nothing inside the greenhouse, she heard it—knock, knock—at the door.

Her heart lurched. Clarisse quietly approached the entrance, and she heard his voice.

“Clarisse.”

He came again…

She wasn’t supposed to be happy, yet some part of her still felt warmth at his kindness—at the fact that he came to match her night watch.

And the kinder he was, the more unbearable it became to imagine leaving him. She wanted him to be cold to her instead—wanted him to let go of her. Why wouldn’t he?

She had said something unforgivably insulting—that he would cheat on her in the future. A fiancée who said such a thing should be easy to discard. He should have grown sick of her and walked away.

Holding a hand over her pounding chest, she opened the door. Alexis, in his knight’s uniform, smiled and stepped inside.

“I’m sorry I’m a bit late.”

“I-I wasn’t waiting or anything…”

She’d wanted to snap it out more sharply, but she couldn’t, not really.

The basket stuffed with sandwiches was here again, and she was about to offer him one when she froze.

“Alexis—you’re wet.”

Had he not brought an umbrella? And then she remembered: knights didn’t carry umbrellas while on duty. He wasn’t here to play—this was, technically, his assignment. It wasn’t strange that he’d come without one.

Clarisse hurriedly took out a handkerchief and pressed it to his face. His face, hair, shoulders—everything was damp. He must be cold like this.

“It’s not much. I’m fine.”

He said that, but if he caught a cold, it would be a disaster.

“Sit down. I’ll dry your hair.”

A handkerchief wouldn’t be enough. Because of the rain, she’d brought a towel just in case. Pulling it from the bag beside the basket, Clarisse made Alexis sit and dabbed the water from his hair.

As she busied herself drying him, he suddenly began to chuckle.

“Clarisse, you’re such a caretaker.”

“What are you say—ah…”

She started to protest, and only then realized it: fussing over someone she claimed she wanted to break up with was absurd.

Irritated, she pressed the towel into his hands with unnecessary force.

“Do the rest yourself!”

“Yes, yes. More importantly… I’m hungry.”

With one hand drying his hair, Alexis glanced at the basket.

Feeling as though she were being teased, Clarisse frowned—but she opened it anyway.

“Still looks delicious. Can I?”

“Go ahead. I can’t finish them by myself.”

“Thanks.”

Alexis took a sandwich in his free hand and began eating.

While chewing, he asked if anything had changed.

“So far, it seems nothing’s happened. I hope it stays that way until the Flower-viewing gathering…”

“If nothing happens, we can’t catch the culprit. But, well—if something does happen, it’s dangerous. So you’re right. It’s better if nothing happens.”

She wanted to drag the scoundrel who had shredded Félicité’s precious flowers into the light—but she also wanted, desperately, to prevent any further damage.

It was maddening.

In Clarisse’s mind, the culprit was Joanne. But she had no proof—and even if she did, the other party was a consort. Clarisse had no power to do anything.

If only Lady Félicité would appeal to His Majesty…

But Félicité still didn’t want to stir the waters, so that was unlikely.

If the culprit appeared during the watch and was caught in the act by the knights, perhaps Gracian could punish them with his authority as crown prince—but catching someone red-handed meant they would have harmed the flowers again.

Clarisse didn’t want that.

As she frowned and wrestled with the dilemma, Alexis—who had somehow finished his sandwiches—moved his chair closer as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

The moment she saw him reaching for the blanket, she understood: he intended to do exactly what he had last time.

Clarisse snapped her head up.

“I prepared another blanket this time.”

She’d brought two, specifically so she wouldn’t repeat the same mistake. It was bulky, but she couldn’t afford to be swept away again—not again. If she didn’t put distance between herself and Alexis, her weak resolve would be washed out to sea.

“One is fine. If we share, we’ll be warmer, won’t we?”

Alexis pouted, but she wasn’t about to be fooled by that.

“No. We’ll be warmer with one each.”

“But I want to be under the same blanket as you.”

“And if you’re wrapped up with me, you won’t be able to move quickly, will you? You’re here on duty as a knight. If your movement is restricted, that’s a problem, isn’t it?”

The moment she pointed out that he was working, Alexis tightened his mouth—and fell silent.

I win!

Clarisse felt a brief, fierce satisfaction.

It lasted only an instant.

Before she could even inhale, Alexis pulled her into his arms.

“Why do you have to say things that cold? I love you this much—how am I supposed to make you understand?”

“W—”

Clarisse tried to wriggle free, but he was a trained knight. Pressing against his chest did nothing—he didn’t budge.

“How long are you going to keep saying something as nonsensical as ‘you’ll cheat on me in the future’? Why did you stop wanting to marry me? Come on—tell the truth already.”

There was no “truth” to confess—Clarisse wasn’t lying.

But Alexis didn’t know she carried memories of the future, and she understood why he’d think that way. If someone suddenly started talking about the future, no one could just accept it. It was only natural for him to assume she’d been influenced by some shady fortune-teller—just as he’d said before.

While Clarisse floundered, Alexis’s arms tightened.

“Tell me—who stole your heart? You don’t just suddenly say you want to break up without reason. Clarisse… when did you start looking at another man?”

“No—!”

It was practically accusing her of infidelity. Ridiculous.

Clarisse had only ever looked at Alexis—right up to the moment before she died two years from now.

“I’ve always—”

She started to say it, then clamped her mouth shut in panic. What good would it do to confess she’d always loved him? She was trying to leave him. That would only invite the obvious answer: then there’s no reason to break up.

“I… I…”

What was the correct answer? Should she lie—say she’d fallen for someone else?

But if she did, he would demand to know who, and she’d have nothing to give him.

“…I can’t marry you.”

In the end, that was all Clarisse could say. Nothing else. Not a single thing.

If only Alexis truly were a terrible man…

She hated the man who would cheat in two years. And yet she couldn’t hate him completely—because until then, he had been gentle. He had cherished her. She had loved him.

That was why she suffered too.

But she couldn’t say that.

No one would accept “I’m in pain, but please let me go.”

“If you hate it, Clarisse, I’ll still marry you.”

Alexis’s voice, hard as stone, struck Clarisse’s ear like an accusation.

When she lifted her face, she saw it—those beautiful blue eyes, holding a cruelly cold light.

Ah… that darkness again. The look he’d begun to show lately.

The Alexis in her memories of the future did not have eyes like this.

I’m the one who made him look at me like that…

Even so, Clarisse still couldn’t marry him.

Being betrayed, having her heart shattered into pieces—she’d had enough.

She twisted in his arms, trying to escape.