Chapter 43: “I Can’t Take My Eyes Off You.”
The only thing different about the servant’s uniform she chose to wear was the color of the ribbon at the end that held her apron in place. But Olivia soon dismissed it. So what if it was different? It’s just an outfit she wore for a short walk and would return afterward. Besides, it wasn’t even the entire ribbon, just the fluttering end that was a different shade. It wasn’t worth bringing up palace discipline or anything over it.
Light on her feet, Olivia stepped out of the palace and tilted her head at the three branching paths.
“Let’s see. That way is the rose garden, the other one goes to the fountain, and…”
Looking toward the final path, Olivia soon nodded. It was a narrow trail mostly used by servants.
“Why not try something different today? Especially dressed like this.”
If she wandered near the rose garden or the fountain in servant’s clothing and ran into someone, it’d only cause trouble. Those areas were restricted to royalty and authorized persons. She wasn’t out for the view anyway—just to clear her head. Exploring a new path didn’t sound so bad.
Rustle, rustle. Aside from the occasional chirp of insects and the breeze brushing her cheeks, the air was still. Only Olivia’s footsteps echoed in the quiet.
After walking for a while, she stopped absentmindedly and looked up at the sky.
“It’s almost a full moon.”
The ribbon at her waist fluttered slightly as she judged the moon’s shape. From the bushes behind her—someone, completely unnoticed by Olivia, was staring holes through her. Their sclera was bloodshot as if the vessels had burst, their jaw was clenched so tightly deep creases formed along their chin, and their mouth slowly twisted open.
“You… came…”
As the woman recognized the color of the ribbon’s end, her face contorted into a monstrous grimace. From the bushes, she slowly rose, the moonlight catching the blade in her hand—a kitchen knife gleaming with a dull glow.
“There’s a meeting during the full moon, right? What’s happening around this time…”
Still gazing at the sky, lost in thought, Olivia spun around in alarm at the sharp scream behind her.
“How dare you! Even wearing that ribbon—!”
With a shriek laced in rage and hatred, the glint of a blade flashed in Olivia’s eyes. She didn’t even have time to gasp before she hurled herself forward. Not a noble, nor a royal, would normally roll in the dirt like this—but for survival, Olivia would roll a thousand times if she had to.
“Die! Just die already!”
Dodging the crazed swings, Olivia’s escape was cut off as her back hit something hard—a tree.
“Ugh!”
Clang! The kitchen knife slammed into the tree above her, its trunk thicker than her torso. A miracle—heaven-sent luck—allowed her to dodge. Olivia shouted involuntarily.
“Why did I take the unfamiliar path?!”
What was so wrong with the usual route? Even if someone spotted her, she could’ve just said she was the princess! Why did she get the bright idea to try something “fresh”? She didn’t freeze or break down. Instead, she kicked the woman in the stomach as she tried to pull the knife free.
Though the kick wasn’t strong enough to knock her down, it made the woman stumble. Olivia slipped past her and quickly scanned her assailant. Not a professional assassin. That was clear.
“Snap out of it!”
She shouted loudly, but the woman’s eyes were completely deranged—her voice couldn’t reach her. Maybe… maybe intimidation could work?
“Get a grip, you idiot! You crazy—!”
Obscene language spewed from the mouth of a princess, but the crazed woman was far beyond reasoning. The blade whooshed through the air, aiming straight for Olivia’s face.
“Damn it…!”
She raised her arms to block the blow when—
“You’ve got a filthy mouth.”
A calm voice whispered by her ear. At that exact moment, a sharp crack rang out.
Olivia didn’t shut her eyes even as the knife approached. And into her vision stepped a broad, firm back. Cryer. He flicked his sword lightly. Olivia’s gaze lowered to his feet as she asked,
“Did you… kill her?”
“Yes.”
His voice was chillingly flat and brief. A foolish question, really. Clearly, the attacker was dead. Blood dripped onto the tips of his shoes. Olivia suddenly remembered—
“Once I draw my sword, I have to see blood.”
Cryer had said that long ago. At the martial tournament, he hadn’t even drawn a real sword, so no blood was spilled. But this time… the trajectory of his sword bore a clear trace of red.
The reason Cryer always needed blood when he fought—it was due to that cursed ancient god’s twisted preferences. Before Olivia could finish that thought, Cryer, as if reading her mind, muttered,
“She tried to kill you.”
An answer she didn’t expect at all.
“…What?”
Olivia blinked in confusion.
Cryer gently tucked her disheveled hair behind her ear and sighed.
“Even for a moment, I can’t take my eyes off you.”
The calloused fingertips brushing her cheek, the slight warmth, the intense crimson eyes—facing him, Olivia’s lashes fluttered like butterfly wings caught in a storm. Her chest tightened. No, it tickled. Like she had swallowed a feather and it was brushing against her ribs.
She slapped away Cryer’s hand, which was twirling her hair.
Smack! The sound was louder than expected, and Olivia flinched. Her eyes widened, but Cryer didn’t even blink.
Flustered, she shouted louder than necessary to drown her thundering heart.
“I-I’m not some helpless child you left by the river—mmph!”
“If you shout like that, what do you expect to happen?”
He covered half her face with one hand and shook his head.
“You came out dressed like this because you didn’t want to drag all the servants along, right?”
Of course, he was right. But regardless, the sensation of his palm on her face, the crisp night air mixed with his scent—Olivia flushed bright red to her ears.
What even is this? What is happening?!
“Mmmph! Mmm-mmph!”
She wriggled, trying to knock his hand away again, but Cryer calmly wrapped his free arm around her waist and pulled her close.
“Quiet. Thanks to the princess screaming, we’ve got people heading this way. This’ll be annoying.”
Before he even finished speaking, he swept her up in his arms.
“Let’s go.”
With only that short notice, Cryer tensed his legs.
Crack. A stone floor, which shouldn’t have cracked under a human’s weight, split beneath his feet. With a sound like slicing wind, the scenery spun. Olivia clung to him, dizzy from the flight. It wasn’t the first time he’d moved her like this—but the smell of him overwhelmed her more than ever.
Click. In the blink of an eye, they arrived in Olivia’s office. Cryer entered without hesitation and gently set her down. He gestured toward the window and said,
“Better to handle things tomorrow. Familiar or not, you almost died.”
Talking about death, Cryer hesitated briefly. Understandably so—Olivia had once told him he’d killed her four times.
“Anyway, for now, just rest. Prin—”
He frowned. Olivia was strangely silent. Just moments ago, she’d been struggling to get away from him. Reaching toward her, Cryer paused.
Was it the blood? This wasn’t the first time she’d seen him like that, but maybe now she was scared of him again? But she wasn’t trembling or sweating…
Was she hurt? That couldn’t be—he’d protected her perfectly. Not even a blade of grass touched her. Then why—
“Princess?”
Cryer leaned toward her to check her face. Olivia, covering her eyes with one hand, finally pushed against his chest and murmured,
“Back off.”
His eyes widened briefly, then narrowed.
“…You’re afraid of me.”
“What?”
“You’re still scared—”
Before he could finish, Olivia grabbed the front of his shirt with force.
“I’m not scared! You’re just… too close!”
Clutching his clothes like a collar, she slumped.
“Forget it. It’s nothing.”
In the short trip back to her office, Olivia had clawed her way out of chaos. Yes. It was nothing. Her heart racing like mad in front of him—it must’ve been a normal human response to danger. People’s hearts pound like they’re in love when they face danger. And she’d almost died, so naturally…
No. That’s not it.
Olivia wasn’t naive. She knew exactly what that pounding heart meant—and it wasn’t just adrenaline. But she didn’t want to admit it. So what, even if she did?
The man who had killed her four times. Could anything come of feelings toward a man like that?
She shut her eyes tight, then opened them.
Whether it’s butterflies or heart palpitations, whether she falls or not, survival comes first. Love or whatever—none of that matters unless she’s alive.
She didn’t even know how many more chances at regression she had left. This might be the last.
So survival comes first. Even if she had to suppress those fluttering emotions, she could bear it.
Taking a deep breath, Olivia exhaled heavily and dropped onto the sofa.
“Haah… I nearly died from taking the wrong path on the wrong day.”
As she returned to her usual self, Cryer silently reached out a hand toward her.
