A commotion broke out behind the stage.
“You can’t come in here!”
“I’m a related party!”
A refined-looking woman with chestnut-colored hair raised her voice as she argued with the guard blocking her path.
The woman, who claimed to be an insider, was dressed in a fine, high-quality gown and adorned with flashy jewelry—but no matter how one looked at her, she hardly seemed like someone related to a swordsmanship tournament.
When the guard showed no intention of stepping aside, the woman rolled up her sleeves and bared her teeth.
She looked as though she might resort to force at any moment.
Charged with keeping the tournament participants safe today, the guard didn’t want to be rough with a woman who looked so delicate, but he had no choice and tightened his grip on the spear in his hand.
Just before the sharp spearhead could be turned toward her—
“So I wondered why you didn’t come. Looks like you just didn’t have a seat.”
A familiar-sounding voice came from behind her.
After confirming the identity of the man approaching from behind, the guard froze, then quickly pulled back his spear and stepped aside.
And with good reason.
“Adria!”
The man was Adria, the Crown Prince of the Asgard Empire. The guard stared wide-eyed, unable to believe what he was seeing.
Judging by her elegant attire, he’d thought she was at most a wealthy merchant—but a woman who dared to call the Crown Prince by his name?
Ignoring the guard’s shock, Adria spoke to the woman before him in a rather friendly tone.
“What happened to ‘Your Highness’?”
The woman’s eyes narrowed sharply.
Instead of furrowing his brow like he usually did, Adria merely shrugged and overlooked her rudeness.
“Well, I’ll let it slide today.”
At his curt reply, the woman bit her lower lip as if her remaining patience had run out.
Her golden eyes gleamed fiercely, as though she might strike Adria at any moment.
The guard hesitated, wondering if he should step in—but with a single gesture from Adria, he froze.
“I’ll take responsibility here, so go.”
“Pardon?”
Watching Adria dismiss him outright, the guard looked back and forth between the Crown Prince and the woman in confusion.
Was it really okay to step aside? Just who was this woman?
“I said go.”
As the man wavered, torn between his duty and the prince’s command, Adria stepped in front of him, blocking his gaze toward her and urging him on in warning.
‘Ah… could it be?’
A lightning-fast assumption crossed the guard’s mind.
Imagining something that would surely have cost him his head had Adria known, he hastily bowed to the royal and fled as if running for his life.
“Explain.”
After the guard left, Clarissa glanced around to see if anyone else was nearby. Then, quietly but sharply, she addressed Adria, who now stood in her way.
“Explain what?”
Adria replied in an even, casual tone, feigning ignorance.
Clarissa bit her lip hard and forced herself to hold back.
Otherwise, she felt she might explode at any second.
She could feel her barely maintained patience rapidly wearing thin.
“I’m not in the mood for jokes.”
“I didn’t joke either.”
For someone claiming he wasn’t joking, Adria’s voice was endlessly light.
Clarissa wanted nothing more than to kick his shin and rush past him toward Aryan—but she knew she needed his cooperation.
“I need to see Aryan.”
She appealed to Adria, forcing herself to stay calm.
She couldn’t bear not knowing Aryan’s condition, especially since she hadn’t been able to confirm it earlier.
She had long since discarded the option of hearing it from Adria.
She couldn’t be at ease unless she saw it with her own eyes.
“And if I say no?”
Despite her repeated pleas, Adria still didn’t move aside.
Only then did the realization truly sink in—that Aryan and Adria had deliberately deceived her.
Her brows slowly drew together.
“…Why.”
The question—Did you trick me?—nearly burst from her lips, but she swallowed it back.
Still, as always, Clarissa couldn’t hold it in for long.
“How could you not say a single word to me?”
A wave of resentment surged up, and she finally let out the emotions she’d been holding back, clumsily spilling over.
At that moment, Adria twisted his lips and replied coldly.
“Don’t you know?”
“What?”
Clarissa stared at Adria’s red eyes in shock.
She didn’t have to wait long before his lips parted again.
“You really don’t know why Aryan didn’t tell you?”
Hearing words she’d only thought to herself spoken aloud by someone else carried a very different weight.
Clarissa fell silent in shock.
Her heart, still pounding wildly, now ached with pain.
She frowned, enduring the discomfort.
It felt like she was being scolded despite having done nothing wrong.
But as if she alone believed she was blameless, Adria paid no heed and mercilessly drove nails into her heart with his words.
“Because he knew you’d react like this.”
“What did I even—!”
Clarissa felt wronged—deeply so. Before she could even voice her grievance, the words spilled from her lips.
“Then you explain it. Why did you run over here just now?”
Once again, Adria spoke first.
“Because Aryan—”
“Because you thought he’d get hurt?”
Not content with cutting her off, he now stole every word she was about to say.
Clarissa could only clutch the hem of her skirt, moving her lips as if pleading.
“Is that… wrong?”
Her voice came out tightly restrained.
But no matter what she said, Adria didn’t waver an inch today.
His calm gaze settled on her, as if seeing straight through her.
It felt like a heavy weight was sinking deep into her chest.
And it wasn’t just because of Adria’s stare.
Every word that came from his mouth sounded as though the emotions she was feeling now were an obstacle to Aryan’s will.
Even as she tried to deny it, she felt utterly shut out.
She’d never felt this way—not when others treated her like a vulgar woman from behind her back, nor when she was openly ignored.
Driven by her suffocating feelings, Clarissa poured her heart out with all her strength.
That the person she was speaking to was Adria—whom she usually found unbearably irritating—had long since slipped her mind.
“He could’ve been hurt.”
“But he wasn’t.”
…Was that so? He wasn’t hurt?
Even as relief washed over her, she hated not being able to confirm Aryan’s condition with her own eyes.
She didn’t understand why she felt so upset.
And just as she was barely beginning to calm down, Adria said something she never wanted to hear—something she didn’t even want to imagine.
“And even if he’d been hurt a little, what would be the problem?”
“How can you say that!”
Clarissa flared up again easily.
She couldn’t even remember what kind of person she used to be.
“He’s now a fully recognized adult of the nation. He’s old enough to marry or receive a title at any time.”
She refused to understand his coldly falling words and shook her head.
Unlike Clarissa’s argument, riddled with emotion, his words were always right.
“He’s no longer that little kid who cried inside that damned box.”
Clarissa understood all too well what Adria was trying to say.
Aryan was no longer a child.
The time had come for him to take responsibility for himself.
She knew that. But accepting it wasn’t easy.
She couldn’t just dismiss it as something in the past and pretend nothing had happened.
That was part of Aryan’s old wounds—but it was also Clarissa’s regret.
The lip she’d been biting all this time now tasted of blood. She blinked repeatedly.
She never wanted to give him such pain again—never wanted to see it again.
“…Then am I supposed to just stand by and watch?”