#18. Get Out Right Now
Eidren spoke with a calm expression.
“Do as you please. If you want to take your own life, do it. If you want to run away, then run.”
“……”
“It’s fine if you don’t marry me.”
As he said that, moonlight happened to fall across his face. He looked a little pale as he continued.
“But know this one thing. No matter what happens to you, I will not take that money back.”
Ophelia frowned in disbelief. She opened her lips slightly, about to ask if she had understood him correctly.
But Eidren didn’t give her a chance to speak.
He continued without pause.
“That’s not all. As long as I’m alive, your remaining family will live in luxury for the rest of their lives. I’ll make sure of it.”
Ophelia suddenly stood up, seemingly unable to bear listening to him any longer.
Eidren wondered how much more he would have to talk before she slapped him.
He knew very well that she wasn’t the type to hold back her anger.
But what did that matter?
“If you want to get angry, get angry. I don’t care.”
Even if she swung her hand at him, it wouldn’t hurt him. The same went for punches or kicks. Given the difference in their physique, it was only natural.
But that wasn’t the only imbalance between them. Wealth, status, emotions—everything between Eidren and Ophelia was unequal.
Until now, Eidren had deliberately buried that awareness. Because no matter how superior he might be in other areas, when it came to emotions, Ophelia had always stood at the top.
But now, what use was any of that?
Ophelia would never love him anyway.
And if asked what’s crueler—indifference or hatred—he would choose the former a hundred times out of a hundred.
So, her getting angry at him was nothing compared to her indifference.
Eidren looked down into the eyes filled with the sharpest fury he had ever known.
“If you truly want revenge, there’s only one way. Marry me and proceed step by step like you did before. I promise not to get in your way this time.”
There was only one reason for setting such a condition.
In her previous life, Ophelia had taken about three years to bring down the House of Reden.
Three years… That should be enough time for him to let go of his feelings.
Naturally, Ophelia protested. Her voice rose as she snapped at him.
“Are you out of your mind? What the hell is wrong with you?!”
“I won’t tell you.”
He would never tell her.
Seeing her attitude earlier that day, Eidren had realized something—what he held as an irreplaceable memory meant absolutely nothing to Ophelia.
Even if she remembered their past, it wouldn’t change a thing.
Of course. Back then and even now, it was just cheap kindness to her.
But not to him.
So Eidren decided never to speak of their past again.
Because no matter how much he braced himself, it would still hurt to see something that heavy—something like a part of his heart—be treated like it was worthless.
He said,
“It’s too precious a reason to share with you.”
Ophelia glared at him with terrifying intensity, then shoved his chest. With an expression that screamed she wanted to strangle him, she shouted,
“Get out. Right now.”
* * *
At the break of dawn the next day, a basin of water was brought in.
Ophelia had stayed up all night, so she noticed it even before anyone came to wake her. Her maid glanced at her lying in bed staring at the ceiling and said,
“His Highness the Prince has asked you to join him for breakfast.”
Then, quite deliberately, the girl placed a set of clothes on a chair beside the bed. The flimsy fabric was dyed in the kind of dull color Ophelia hated most.
The brass basin, reminiscent of what she had thrown yesterday, was filled with water and floating flower petals. Ophelia dipped her hand into it. The water was lukewarm, not too different from her body temperature.
As she washed her face, the maid opened the balcony curtains. Bright sunlight flooded the room. Only then could Ophelia truly see her surroundings.
The room was spotless, as if the chaos from the night before had never happened. Though the furniture seemed hastily arranged and the curtains were too thick for the season, it was all surprisingly decent.
Last night, not long after Eidren Sigdrasil had left her room, the servants had suddenly knocked and come rushing in.
Clearly following someone’s orders, they cleaned up the mess he had left behind and replaced most of the furniture before disappearing.
Ophelia didn’t destroy the newly arranged room again.
Instead, she stared for a long time at the dent on the bedpost. The bed, being large and expensive, had evidently not been replaced—perhaps because it couldn’t be done immediately.
Staring at that dent, Ophelia wondered why Eidren was so determined to interfere with her path.
Now that time had rewound and the marriage had been undone, he should’ve gone about his own business. Yet he kept trying to get involved with her.
“It’s too precious a reason to share with you.”
She hadn’t understood what that meant at the time. But after being alone and cooling her head, Ophelia realized why Eidren was being such a nuisance.
Eidren Sigdrasil had feelings for her.
She didn’t know why, and she didn’t care—but he liked her.
“How did I end up… liking a woman like you…”
He had even admitted it himself.
That moment made Ophelia realize something: Eidren was far stupider than she had ever imagined.
If she were him, she would never like a woman like herself.
It wasn’t self-deprecation—Ophelia simply knew she wasn’t suitable to be anyone’s partner.
She wasn’t the kind of person who loved or was loved. If anything, she was the type to sit in a dark room sharpening a blade meant for someone else’s back.
Even worse, Eidren was good-looking. Not her type—she preferred soft and quiet people—but she acknowledged that with a face like his, finding a lover wouldn’t be hard.
He probably didn’t love her personality. It must’ve been her looks he was drawn to. But there were other women who looked like her out there.
The more she thought about it, the more Eidren Sigdrasil seemed like a fool. Ophelia had never met a man like him in her life. Someone so bad at weighing gain and loss.
Still, even a man that foolish had managed to threaten her effectively.
The thought of her family living in wealth made Ophelia feel sick. That alone was something she would do anything to prevent.
So if he wanted to marry her, then yes—Eidren had played his cards right.
Even if it was for the most pitiful reason imaginable.
With a deep sigh, Ophelia took off her clothes. In any case, Eidren wasn’t the kind of man to go back on his word.
Which meant her choice was already made.
“If you truly want revenge, there’s only one way. Marry me and proceed step by step like you did before.”
It wasn’t impossible. As the maid approached and draped the flimsy fabric over her body, Ophelia thought to herself: she had already carried out her first revenge perfectly.
Then surely a second one should be no problem.
Pressing her fingers under her eyes to wash away the fatigue, she knew—this would be a long, tedious journey.
But she would win again.
Since the day hope had died, she had never lost once.
* * *
Mahanas Mevasa believed he was perfect from birth.
The first prince of Reden. The only heir to the thousand-year-old Mevasa dynasty. His lineage alone was noble.
And those born so special were entitled to more than others.
For most people, rights were exchanged through labor. But not for Mahanas. He had others to work for him, to uphold his rights—the people of Reden.
He was the prince of Reden. It was the people’s duty to support him. They were born to uphold his authority through taxes and forced labor.
Sometimes, there were those who called this cruel.
“Your Highness, the famine from last year hasn’t passed. The people are starving.”
Mahanas couldn’t understand them. No food? Then just work harder.
If he had been born noble and worthy of honor, then surely some people had been born just to serve him. Why did they complain about their fate?
Mahanas never listened to the foolish complaints of those who grumbled about what they were born into. They weren’t worth his attention. He had better things to do.
Like indulging in his refined hobbies.
As the heir of Mevasa, Mahanas had very refined tastes. No king or prince could surpass his sophistication.
His clothes, his food, his women—everything he enjoyed was the best of the best. He was Mevasa, and he was Reden. That much was only fitting.
And the most exquisite of his refined tastes… was Dalihua.
