Don’t Trample on Innocent Love

Robern’s steps gradually slowed as he walked out of the Imperial Palace and down the corridor. It was because a familiar face was approaching him from the opposite direction.

The face with red hair and blue eyes brightened with delight upon spotting him.

“Lord Valent, it’s been a while. It’s been hard to catch a glimpse of you lately.”

“I greet you, Your Highness, the Princess.”

“Enough with the formalities. We’re old friends, aren’t we?”

Robern didn’t particularly welcome Grace’s presence, but he greeted her politely. At the childhood friend’s formal greeting, Grace waved her hand, in a way that made his skin crawl. Nonetheless, Robern briefly bowed and passed by Grace.

Even though she was his childhood friend, Robern did not seek out Grace unless he had a specific purpose. Grace was similar in character, so the two maintained a distant relationship, merely acknowledging each other.

Normally, Grace would have gone her own way at this point, but this time, she was walking beside Robern. Robern raised an eyebrow at her uncharacteristic attempt to be friendly.

“What is it?”

“I heard Ophelia is getting engaged?”

“That story again… Don’t you ever get tired of it?”

“Why are you so angry about it?”

Robern scoffed at Grace’s words. Angry? Who? Him? It was clear that everyone is seeing what they wanted to see.

“What’s it to me that woman getting engaged? and to that lowly bastard?” Robern said in disgust.

“I didn’t say you were angry because of Ophelia.”

When Grace burst into laughter at Robern’s transparent words, Robern frowned and turned his back. He tried to ignore Grace, who was following him and gently scratching his irritation. Grace, who had been talking about Ophelia, suddenly thrust a newspaper at him.

Robern absentmindedly read the newspaper, which was blocking his view. The moment he read the headline, Robern’s eyes grew fierce. Gradually, Robern’s hand that had snatched the newspaper was trembling with anger.

The Dumiél Atelier was a fashion house that specialized in ceremonial dresses worn by the central nobility for engagements or weddings.

Robern slowly ran his tongue along the inside of his mouth.

She would lock lips with him and then have the audacity to have an engagement ceremony with some other asshole?

Someone has lost their mind and even had a wet dream, and she dares to run away?

“There she comes, the lover who boasted of the scandal of the century.”

In the direction Grace pointed, there was Ophelia with her arm linked to Hugo’s.

“I called her here.”

 Robern looked at the giggling Grace with disdain. This woman has nothing better to do. Well, the gossip about people who can’t stand their boring daily lives and keep throwing parties is just entertainment, isn’t it?

Robern had no desire to see Ophelia. In the first place, why would he care about how he feels when looking at that woman? But seeing her flinch as she looked at him made his lips twist into an involuntary, mocking smile.

That’s just pathetic.

“Leaving already?”

As Robern turned his back, feeling fire burning in his chest, Grace grabbed his arm.

“We’re going to have a meal together, won’t you join us? Aren’t you curious? About how those two met. They don’t seem to match at all.”

Robern wasn’t curious at all, but Grace was so insistent that he had no choice but to go along. He couldn’t refuse the princess’s request, after all.