NRAL | Chapter 123

Chapter 123

Our First Meeting

At the age of thirteen, Eleanor smiled brightly as she spoke, causing the two sons of Viscount Hawkins and Baron Reynolds’ son to tremble with fear.

“I-I’ll kneel! Look, I’m kneeling!”

The eldest son of Viscount Hawkins, realizing the situation too late, quickly knelt down. Seeing their leader do this, the other two followed and apologized.

“We’re sorry! We were wrong! Please, don’t tell our fathers! Please, Lady!”

It was quite amusing to see them change their attitude so quickly, but Eleanor didn’t want to stand there for long.

“You should be apologizing to someone else, not me,” Eleanor said with a slight shrug and shifted her gaze.

At the end of her gaze was a man who had been kneeling quietly the whole time. His messy hair covered his face, making it impossible to tell what expression he was wearing.

“We, we were just out of our minds for a moment. Sorry!” the thugs said, bowing their heads deeply to the man.

But the man didn’t respond at all. A minute passed, and still, no change in his expression—he remained silent.

Was he too embarrassed?

Eleanor, curious, tilted her head for a moment before signaling the thugs to leave. Once given permission, they quickly stood up and ran off.

Now, only the mysterious man and young Eleanor were left in the corner of the Count’s garden.

In the heavy silence, Eleanor slowly walked towards the man.

As she got closer, she still couldn’t figure out who he was. She had memorized the faces of all the attendees, but his face remained hidden under his messy hair, and even the visible part of his jaw didn’t match any face she remembered.

‘He’s injured,’ Eleanor thought, noticing the blood dripping from his hand. It looked like he had been beaten by the thugs earlier.

Should she help him? She hesitated for a moment, then slowly took out a handkerchief from her pocket.

Given his appearance, he probably didn’t carry a handkerchief. She figured it might be useful to stop the bleeding, so she planned to hand it over and then leave to return to the tiring party.

However, just as she was about to give it to him, a sharp voice stopped her.

“I didn’t ask for your help.”

The man, who had remained silent up until now, finally spoke.

“I never asked for an apology either, so don’t get arrogant thinking you’re doing something I wanted.”

The man, still kneeling, raised his head and looked at Eleanor.

Through his disheveled hair, his red eyes flashed fiercely. The emotions in those eyes were pure hostility, completely directed at her, for reasons Eleanor couldn’t understand.

“You, and those others. All nobles are the same. Is it fun to crush others with the power you didn’t even earn?”

Eleanor was taken aback by the unexpected words. He was speaking informally to her, despite clearly knowing who she was, and showing such disdain for nobles. It didn’t seem like someone from the noble class at all.

“I haven’t been arrogant,” Eleanor replied coolly.

She began to wonder if he was just a commoner who had snuck into the party, like the thugs had suggested. Eleanor gave a faint laugh and narrowed her eyes.

“Using power to crush others is not fun… but it does come in handy in unjust situations, like right now,” Eleanor said, subtly hinting at her own actions. She had helped him with the very power he despised.

The man flinched, his lips biting down tightly. Perhaps he was embarrassed to have been contradicted by a young girl, but surprisingly, he didn’t lash out more. Instead, his ears flushed red, as if ashamed.

He wasn’t as terrible as she’d initially thought.

Eleanor thought to herself that there were so many different kinds of people in the world as she continued speaking.

“Don’t take out your frustration on a kid. Just stop the bleeding on your hand. You’ll regret it if it leaves a scar later.”

She gently placed the handkerchief on his hand and then turned to walk away, without a second thought.

She couldn’t stay with a stranger she didn’t know. Besides, it was getting time for her father to find her, so she needed to head back.

As she walked away, she heard a faint grinding sound coming from behind her. Eleanor turned her head and caught one last glimpse of the man.

He was still kneeling, holding the handkerchief tightly in his hand. Maybe he would throw it away, but it looked like he wouldn’t.

A cold wind blew past him, and though Eleanor was too far away to see clearly, she noticed his profile. It was remarkably beautiful, like a statue at home—a sharp chin, a high nose.

‘His eyes were pretty too,’ she thought, though she hadn’t looked closely. His eyes, barely visible under his messy hair, had looked beautiful.

Everything about him was attractive. Was he really hiding his beauty from the world because he didn’t want to be the center of attention?

Eleanor’s thoughts drifted, but then she quickly shook her head. Focusing on appearance was poison. She recalled the teachings of her benefactor and quickly dismissed the thoughts.

“Eleanor, come here!”

Soon, she heard her father, the Duke of Astria, calling her name. She had returned just in time to rejoin the party.

The nobles were dancing to the lively music, while those not dancing approached Eleanor, trying to make conversation.

The boring, exhausting time continued. And then, at some point, the entire party seemed to shake.

Up and down. Left and right. It wasn’t just the party that seemed to shake, but the people themselves. Their shapes blurred and twisted.

Finally, Eleanor realized her dream was coming to an end.

Everything around her turned pitch black, and she understood.

This was no ordinary dream. It was a memory from nine years ago, the moment someone had desperately asked her to remember.

“Eleanor.”

In the dark, a familiar voice called her name.

“Please… wake up.”

It was a voice she knew well, a low and attractive voice, sometimes even seductive.

“Please… wake up.”

It was Karsian calling her.

Her hazy, foggy mind started to clear.

She had worried for him, but now she needed to wake up.

Eleanor focused her will and began to awaken.

“Please…”

Her heavy eyelids finally fluttered.

And at last, Eleanor slowly opened her eyes.

“Kar… sian…”

Her voice cracked as she spoke softly. At that moment, Karsian, who had been resting his face on her bed, suddenly lifted his head.

After three days, their eyes met.

Eleanor slowly closed her eyes again, then reopened them, looking at Karsian.

He looked much more worn than when she last saw him. His eyes were dark, his skin rough, but he was still handsome.

“Karsian.”

She whispered his name again, taking in his every feature.

His broader shoulders, long and elegant neck. His sculpted jawline, high nose… his red eyes shining, and his now neatly groomed hair.

“I remembered.”

Everything, the things that had changed and the things that hadn’t, was all beautiful to her.

“Our first meeting.”

She whispered with a bright smile, and Karsian’s eyes trembled.

There was so much he wanted to say.

He had imagined what she would say when she woke up, whether she would be angry, cry, or beg. But seeing her smile now, his mind went blank.

What he could do now was just follow his instincts.

He quickly wrapped Eleanor in his arms.

His warm skin pressed against hers, and his big, solid body surrounded her. Though it wasn’t a permissioned hug, he couldn’t hold back from embracing her, no matter if she would scold him for it.

Eleanor, startled by the sudden contact, widened her eyes but then closed them, settling into his embrace.

His body was so solid that she thought it would hurt if he held her too tightly, but it felt surprisingly good. His warmth was comforting, and his strong, big body made her feel safe.

“I… spoke wrong.”

He slowly rubbed her back, and then, unexpectedly, he spoke words that didn’t make sense.

Was he referring to their first meeting? Eleanor thought so, but quickly realized she was mistaken.

“I shouldn’t have told you not to get hurt while I was away.”

He was referring to the plan where Eleanor had purposely provoked Astria’s Duke, had been beaten, and had even stabbed herself.

“Please, I’m begging you, Eleanor.”

Karsian’s hands shook as he held her, his voice trembling. It sounded as if he was on the verge of tears.

“Don’t get hurt. Whether you’re by my side or somewhere else… please, not anymore…”

“Please don’t get hurt,” he begged desperately, his teeth clenched tight.

If Eleanor spoke again, asking him to wait or endure a little longer, he wouldn’t let it slide. He had made a promise to himself after seeing her fall.

Even if she hated him and despised him, he would prioritize his desires.

He couldn’t let her suffer again.

Eleanor, unaware of the thoughts running through Karsian’s mind, spoke softly.

“I will.”

Luckily, Eleanor had made a good choice for both herself and Karsian.

“I won’t experience any more pain. I’ll be by your side, Karsian.”