Turmoil for the Reincarnated Princess

“Your Highness? Is something the matter?”

A jolt shook the carriage, coinciding with a spectacular bang. One of the wheels must have run over a rock. The large tremor brought me back to reality.

In front of me, Sir Leonhart’s face was clouded with concern. He was probably worried about my distracted behavior.

“I’m...all right.” My voice came out sounding robotic. Understanding of my present situation registered in my dazed brain, and my cheeks began to flush.

What could be worse? I’ve given him an extended viewing of my range of silly faces. Not only that, but I’ve also been ignoring him this whole time even though he’s so important to me.

“Sorry,” I hurriedly apologized, feeling flooded with guilt and embarrassment.

However, he didn’t perk up. Sir Leonhart was staring at me with his brows deeply furrowed and his lips pursed. I cast my head down to escape his gaze, but I could still feel it piercing me.

An awkward silence befell the carriage.

What am I playing at? The whole reason I acted spoiled and asked Sir Leonhart to be my guard on the trip to Lord Julius’s mansion was because I wanted to talk to him.

Feeling ashamed of myself, my head sank even lower, and then a large hand entered my field of view.

“Gah!”

I instinctively recoiled. I didn’t think that he would hit me or anything violent like that—I was just surprised. My flinch had merely been a conditional reflex.

But he couldn’t know that without my telling him, so his hand froze in midair. When I lifted my head, my eyes met Sir Leonhart’s. He was wearing a troubled frown.

I’ve done it again...!!! I don’t know why he was reaching his hand out toward me, but that doesn’t change the fact that I just shunned him.

In my defense, I wanted to say, That’s not what I meant! You just caught me off guard, but I had trouble getting the words out.

He observed me falling silent and slowly asked, “Princess, would it be all right to touch you?”

Touch? Touch what? My discomposure dampened my cognitive functions.

“Uhh, y-y-you m-may.” I gave my assent through terrible stutters, and Sir Leonhart’s hand scooped up my bangs.

His large palm brushed against my forehead, gently so as not to frighten me. In that moment, my entire body stopped moving, as though frozen in ice. At the sensation of his firm palm, all of my awareness dispersed, and every thought came to a halt.

I was breathless. Sir Leonhart, on the other hand, appeared to be not the least bit disconcerted, judging from his countenance. A concerned frown could be seen on his manly, attractive features which were so close to me, but his brow unfurrowed after a few seconds. He let out a small sigh of relief, and his hand parted from my forehead.

“You don’t have a fever,” he said. His eyes would often give off a stern impression, but at the moment, they looked soft and kind. He smiled gently at me from just a few inches away, tugging at the wires in my brain until they were close to shorting out.

My cheeks felt even hotter than before. Though my brain seemed completely out of order, my heart was working overtime and pumping restlessly. The sound of my heartbeat was deafening.

“I, uhh... Right,” I squeaked.

“I don’t see any cuts or scrapes, so you’re fine in that regard?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“And you feel well?”

“Yes.”

“So you have something on your mind?”

“Yes... Ah!” I confirmed his suspicions without properly thinking through my response.

I’d been counting prime numbers in my head to slow my beating heart, but then I’d fallen for a trick too simple to even be called a leading question. What’s worse, I’d realized my mistake and had let my reaction show on my face.

I shot a nervous glance at Sir Leonhart, and found that he was pointing a sweet, oh-so-pretty grin my way. His smile was a different kind from before, which let me know that I couldn’t weasel my way out of this.

“Keeping your worries to yourself is a bad habit of yours, and you need to fix it,” he said, more directly than usual. “Perhaps you would prefer to ask someone other than me for advice, but if you talk to me, then I may be able to be of some assistance.”

Oh, he’s so cool when he drops the formalities.

I gave a small nod. At the same time, I was entertaining a thought that was inappropriate for the situation, either as a way of denying reality, or perhaps just to be faithful to my instincts.

Putting that aside, where do I start?

I peeked up at him, and a feeling pierced my heart when I saw that he was tilting his head slightly, as though encouraging me to speak. One attack was plenty, please.

I averted my eyes a little in order to calm myself down, then began to talk. “I was speaking with my father the other day.”

“You visited His Majesty?” Sir Leonhart’s eyes went round.

“Yes,” I replied. “Well, it was the fourth time, actually.”

“How do I say this? You’re...fearless?” Sir Leonhart muttered. “You pick strange times to be resolute and take the initiative.” He gave a sigh that was equal parts shocked and amazed.

I couldn’t be so optimistic as to interpret his words as a compliment. I wasn’t resolute or full of initiative; I was just thoughtless and rash. I’d spent so long in the lion’s den that my initial fear had evaporated and I’d forgotten all about the lion’s claws. As a result, I was the idiot who’d received her own comeuppance.

“The first time, I felt so nervous that I thought I’d throw up. But I became rather accustomed after the second time...”

As I quietly mumbled what was more or less an excuse, Sir Leonhart’s expression took on an even more peculiar appearance. It looked like he’d tried and failed to appear stern. He rubbed his chin.

“I’m having trouble deciding whether to be angry at your recklessness, or amazed at your boldness,” he remarked.

“It’s okay to be mad...” I said.

Amazement would be more likely to screw my head up.

Sir Leonhart smiled wryly after witnessing my despondency. He must’ve decided that I’d repented for my actions because he continued the conversation without scolding me. “So what happened?”

“The truth is...” Without lifting my head, I began to explain, my voice quiet.

The following is what I told him:

My father had allowed me to view the books relating to the demon lord, and I’d resolved to repeatedly visit his room after failing to make much progress reading the antiquated language used in those texts. At some point, I’d gotten so used to being there that I’d let my guard down and had come close to enraging the king.

Father had called me an idiot to my face, and then, through some strange turn in the conversation, had ended up giving me advice. I’d become invested in the discussion, and as a result of asking and answering questions that I should’ve just brushed off, I’d ended up catching my father’s interest somewhat.

Delivering the explanation in such fine detail was quite the ordeal. I don’t think that anyone revels in discussing their own failures...especially in my case, as the repercussions had become unfixable. However, I didn’t yet have it in me to tell Sir Leonhart about the strategic marriage.

When I finished my explanation, the carriage fell silent.

I was unable to bear the awkward atmosphere, so I summoned my courage and stole a glance at Sir Leonhart. I found him mimicking The Thinker by Auguste Rodin. His expression was grave; his brows were deeply furrowed, and he said nothing.

Oh no, I think he’s really lost it with me this time.

“Sir...Leon?” I called his name softly but to no response. Rather than ignoring me, it seemed more like he was concentrating so hard that he hadn’t noticed my voice.

I sighed softly. My muscles relaxed now that I’d postponed—if only for a short time—the threat of him learning about my arranged marriage. If anyone was going to scold me, I wanted it to be Sir Leonhart, but I didn’t want him to lose faith in me or come to dislike me.

With bated breath, I watched for him to make a move.

However, Sir Leonhart kept perfectly still. His droopy almond eyes were fixed on a point of empty space, and his lips remained tightly sealed. His bangs fluttered in step with the bumps of the carriage, casting shadows on his gorgeous forehead. I noticed that his fingers, perched on the strong curves of his cheeks and chin, were long and bony.

Even though I knew that now wasn’t the time, I couldn’t stop myself from staring. Usually, I’d be too nervous to stare at him directly. But at the moment, he was looking elsewhere, which allowed me to remain calm and observe him. My eyes lit up with every little discovery I made, like the faint scar that marked one of his earlobes, or the surprising length of his down-turned eyelashes.

Half of me recognized that right now really wasn’t the time for thoughts like these.

As a bitter battle ensued between my good sense—which urged restraint—and my excited emotions, I found it impossible to look away. While I was entranced by his almond eyes and the long lashes decorating them, his obsidian pupils stirred. Those dark eyes moved slowly until they met my own.

“Princess.”

I jumped. “Y-Yes!” I yelped abruptly, my voice squeaking.

Sir Leonhart looked taken aback as he watched my clearly flustered reaction. “Princess?” Sir Leonhart called me again, sounding confused. He’d raised his pitch toward the end as if to ask me indirectly what the matter was, and I lost my tongue, unsure of how to respond.

I wasn’t bold enough to be recklessly honest and confess that he’d entranced me.

“Are you sure that you’re not feeling unwell?” he asked.

“No, I’m fine! I was just...umm, thinking...a little,” I deflected while internally mocking myself. Yep, just thinking a little...while scrutinizing his face. Good one. “More importantly, what were you about to tell me, Sir Leon?”

Whether he’d discerned my impure thoughts or not, Sir Leonhart didn’t press the topic any further. “Right,” he murmured quietly, and then stopped. He seemed to be reluctant to speak. Was I just imagining that?

He fiddled with his hands, repeatedly bringing them together then pulling them apart above his spread legs.

After some hesitation, Sir Leonhart started talking. “You told me before that you don’t wish to rely on Prince Christoph. Is that still your intention?” As he voiced this, my eyes grew wide.

His question was the same as the one he’d asked before when I’d first informed him that I’d encountered my father. I was certain that my answer had been clear back then.

I most definitely will not go to Chris for advice, because I don’t want to be used by him, and I don’t want to force him to make use of me, I’d responded to Sir Leonhart.

I’d thought that my answer had put an end to this topic, so when he brought it up again, I couldn’t conceal my surprise. “Wh-Why do you ask?” I volleyed the question back to him without giving an answer.

It wasn’t like Sir Leonhart to drag up a topic that had already been dealt with. I didn’t mean to criticize him, but my feelings must have seeped into my tone, because he frowned, looking a little troubled and at a loss for words.

I felt a rush of worry as I watched him react like that. My heart ached with the thought that he’d judged me incapable of handling this matter myself.

“Is it because I’m not reliable?” My pessimistic feelings rolled off of my tongue.

“That’s not it,” Sir Leonhart denied immediately, dispelling my doubt. “Given how extraordinary you are, I had predicted that His Majesty would take an interest in you sooner or later. But, I hadn’t expected it to be this soon. I was naive in my estimation.”

Unlike Chris, I played no part in the running of the kingdom. In other words, I’d had no opportunity to display my capabilities to my father. As such, Sir Leonhart had probably assumed that the king would take longer to become aware of my value.

“And you’re saying that you’ve caught his interest somewhat... This is worrying to me as well,” he continued. “All would be fine if he’d acknowledged your superior talents and had decided to help nurture your skills... But if he’s merely judged that you could prove useful to him, then the situation is dire. This may be unpleasant to hear, but if he feels that there is a use for you, the first thought that springs to mind is marriage.”

I gasped, letting out an abnormal sound.

He’d suddenly introduced the exact problem that I was, at that very moment, trying to ignore. I froze in place. My mind wasn’t ready to deal with this, and I was unable to respond to the explosive topic that he’d thrown my way.

Sir Leonhart watched me gasp and then furrowed his brows suspiciously. He sank into thought, but only for a few seconds—his perception had inferred the truth of the matter from the look on my face, and his expression grew more and more severe.

“Princess, don’t tell me...” Horror and unease filled his hoarse voice.

I lowered my head, wanting to escape, and tightened my grip on my skirt. “I-It won’t happen immediately!” My tongue moved on its own. Even I thought that I sounded ridiculous. Oh, what am I saying? “I have some leeway—the two years before Vint’s crown prince comes of age!”

“Two years, you say?”

It was impossible not to recoil at his grave tone. I could’ve sworn I heard a voice ask, “Is that all?” beneath his question, but that might’ve been my victim complex at work.

The back of my nose grew hot and painful. I bit my lip and persevered, giving myself encouragement. “If I can prove my worth in that time frame, then I...”

Then I might be able to marry the man I love, I almost said. But I stopped. It dawned on me that I was fooling myself.

Suppose that I succeeded in leaving behind an accomplishment. Suppose that I won my father’s recognition and the right to marry a man of my choice. Even then, the odds that I could be with Sir Leonhart were still almost zero.

Although there was nothing unexpected about Sir Leonhart’s reaction, his complete composure while learning about my strategic marriage reminded me—the probability of my first love working out was far, far lower than the probability of me earning my father’s recognition.

My head sank further and further, a display of my depression. The carriage fell into a stifling silence.

I gazed at my hands, which were crumpling creases into my skirt, and rubbed my fingertips against my nails. After unconsciously repeating that meaningless motion a few times, I sensed Sir Leonhart move. I raised my head, and our eyes met. He looked serious.

“Again, won’t you ask Prince Christoph for assistance, just this once?” he asked.

“No!!!” I denied reflexively, without waiting to fully process what he’d said. “I won’t,” I insisted.

For just this moment, my humble and cowardly desire to not act selfishly or cause trouble had disappeared.

“I know that you’re strong-willed,” Sir Leonhart said. His tone of voice had returned to normal, and he spoke as though he were lecturing an obstinate little princess. “However, Your Highness, your future is at stake.”

“It is! That’s exactly why!!!” I swung my head left and right.

I don’t care if he thinks I’m throwing a hissy fit. Yeah, my future’s at stake! That’s absolutely it! That’s why I can’t back down. Like hell I will!!!

I hardened my gaze.

“This is a crisis, but at the same time, it’s an opportunity that might never come again!”

Once I’d said that, I suddenly had a realization—I finally understood what had caused the restlessness that I’d been unable to shake from inside of my mind.

My father’s arrogant attitude had inflamed my temper, but now that I’d thought about it with a cooler head, I realized that princesses, in general, had virtually no say in their marriages. Therefore, I concluded that I was lucky to have even the slightest chance of being able to refuse my own.

Once I realized that, hope sprang out from behind the challenge that had been forced upon me.

“If I were to ask Chris to cancel the strategic marriage,” I explained, “then my father would lose interest in me. He’d write me off as not being able to achieve anything more.”

I could easily imagine him giving up on me. Not that I would mind too much. My father’s loss of faith would irritate me, but it wouldn’t upset me.

However...

“If I’m unable to prove my worth, I know that I’ll forever lose my right to marry the man of my choice.”

I had no firm basis for that, but my instincts told me so. I’d even go as far as saying that I was certain: my father had said that if I proved of limited use then he’d marry me off to someone harmless and inconsequential.

I’d thought that the chances of Sir Leonhart suiting those conditions would be nonzero, though very small. But now, I was prepared to declare that the chances were zero.

He was a valiant soldier whose name resounded throughout the countries around Nevel. He had it all—handsome features, popularity, and intelligence. Everybody would want to get their hands on a man like that, to link themselves to him. Even if I were to lose my usefulness, Sir Leonhart wouldn’t. Would my father really hand over such a ridiculously valuable asset to a flawed, worthless princess like me?

“I need to do this by myself,” I muttered, and my voice sounded like a croak. Tears gradually began to well in my eyes.

Sir Leonhart paused and then called out to me softly. “Princess...” His confounded expression looked slightly more youthful than usual.

I’ll bet he’d be thrown for a loop if I told him that I also love that look on him, I thought. My face scrunched up, and I felt like I was about to cry. Even if you’re out of my grasp, I don’t want to give up on you yet.

“I need to try. Otherwise, I won’t even be able to tell the person I love...how I feel.” I blurted my thoughts out while staring straight into Sir Leonhart’s eyes.

On the other side of my gaze, Sir Leonhart’s piercing eyes grew as round as saucers. I saw myself reflected in his obsidian pupils, which displayed only pure astonishment. I was breathing heavily, and my face was burning as if I had a fever.

Composure returned to me as suddenly as if I’d been doused with cold water. A moment later, I was overcome by a sense of achievement and a simultaneous feeling of regret.

Did I really just say that to Sir Leonhart? Looking like I am now?

I might as well have just screamed, “I love you!”

I groaned. It was too late to retract the words that I’d let slip out. A part of me clutched at straws and prayed that he hadn’t heard me, but the look of shock on Sir Leonhart’s face extinguished that possibility. He was staring right at me, and I couldn’t wrest my eyes from his.

I’d unconsciously placed a hand against my chest and could feel my heart beating quickly enough to burst. The inside of my mouth felt like sandpaper; my nerves had dried it out. I swallowed in order to moisten my throat, and the resulting noise sounded thunderous.

I watched Sir Leonhart’s eyes slowly narrow while despair washed over my mood. Terror crept over me, potent enough to give my entire body chills.

With every fiber of my being, I thought, I’m scared. I wanna run away.

For as long as I could remember, I’d never hidden my affection for Sir Leonhart. He most likely knew all about it. But he’d have viewed my feelings as a crush, just the adoration that little girls show adult men, an emotion too shallow to call love, and one that would transition into a memory when the time came.

That assessment was precisely the reason why Sir Leonhart had never spurned my affection. He’d certainly thought that my feelings would disappear on their own someday, so there was no need to reject them.

But just now, I’d shown him that this wasn’t a fleeting fever. I’d let the fact slip; my feelings were so deep and burdensome that I was willing to stake my own future on preserving them.

Thanks to that, Sir Leonhart’s reaction was as clear as day. He knew that a young princess was about to risk her future on a reckless bet, all for the dim prospect of her first romance...not to mention that he was the object of those thoughts.

He’d put an end to my crush.

There was no doubt about that. He’d shut me down with a kindness that would border on cruelty, and would decide that it was something I didn’t need. He wouldn’t ask for my opinion.

“Lady Rosemary,” he called out to me quietly.

This was the first time that he’d called me by my name. However, I wasn’t carefree enough to rejoice about that without a second thought; I knew what was coming next.

No.

No. Please, don’t.

I shook my head again and again, like a petulant child. Though I felt a surge of guilt when Sir Leonhart frowned awkwardly, I couldn’t back down. Maybe I just didn’t know when to give up, but there were some things that I had to stick to.

“I’m—” His shapely lips slowly spelled out the start of his words, about to sound my death knell.

“Stop!!!” I screamed loudly as despair closed in on me.

I practically tumbled out of my seat and latched onto him. He leaned down at once to prop me up, and I covered his mouth with both of my hands. Sir Leonhart looked dumbfounded. His arms were around me, and his mouth was sealed off.

He looked flabbergasted and confused as he watched me shove my fingers against his face. I was in no state of mind to feel embarrassed at the sensation of his lips against my palm. He didn’t resist and seemed incapable of prying my hands away.

“You can’t say it yet... I don’t want you to!” I wrung my voice out once more, looking up at him.

I confess it was unfair of me to plead while sounding tearful. It was an underhanded move, utilizing in full force the fact that I was a young girl. I knew that Sir Leonhart was too kind to swipe away the hand of a child on the verge of crying, but I had to keep going.

“Don’t turn me down yet.” My voice was trembling. “Please, don’t give your answer to me as I am now,” I begged, peering into his jet-black eyes.

Sir Leonhart continued to stare down at me in silence, as though he had something he wanted to say. One of his large hands touched mine. He pulled my hands away slowly as if to ease the rigidity of my fingers, which had solidified from anxiety and fear.

Even after he’d removed my hands from his lips, he still said nothing. Without speaking, he picked me up and lowered me gently back onto my seat.

My head sank. He kneeled on the carriage floor without hesitation and placed a hand on my cheek, wiping away a teardrop from the skin beneath my eyes. My tears had been almost held back by surface tension, but it seemed that they’d begun to trickle down.

“Don’t cry.”

I raised my head a little upon hearing the feeble tone in Sir Leonhart’s voice. His fine, manly features were marred by distress, just as his voice was.

“If you cry,” he said, “I won’t know what to do.”

But his kind gesture brought forth more of them; my tear ducts overflowed, and large droplets ran down my cheeks.

“Give me a little more time...” I sobbed, my shoulders heaving. “I don’t want my age to be the reason you reject me. There’s nothing I can do to make myself older. So don’t turn me down, not until I become an adult.” I didn’t think that I’d be able to give up on Sir Leonhart if he rejected me for being a child. “Or until you—”

My words had come to an unnatural stop, and Sir Leonhart gazed at me with concern.

“Princess?”

I needed more courage to say the words perched on the tip of my tongue. What I really wanted was to tie him down with a selfish, one-sided promise, and close my eyes to any other possibility. But I couldn’t do that; I didn’t have it in me to constrict the person I loved and leave him with no way out. It wasn’t because of a sense of justice or morality, but rather, because I couldn’t bear for him to come to resent me.

“Until you...fall in love with someone.” A new wave of tears came flooding out the moment I said that. The thought alone wracked me with a heart-crushing pain. I bit my lips to hold back the wail that threatened to escape.

“Princess.”

I felt the soft touch of his finger against the corner of my eye, and I saw that his intense eyes gleamed with a surprisingly gentle light. His brows were furrowed deeply, creating distinct wrinkles on his forehead.

I love it all. I don’t want to let any of it go to anyone else. I want the faces he makes for me, and the words he says to me...to be treasures that belong to me and me alone.

But I can’t. That wouldn’t be right.

What good would come from having him stay by my side out of pity? If I tied him down by making him feel sorry for me, it’d just be painful for the both of us; if I can’t get him to feel the same way about me, then I need to let him go.

I can get him to delay his decision for a little while, and during that time, I’ll work and struggle and toil away. However, if my efforts don’t work out, all I can do is pray for his happiness.

“When you do, I’ll let you turn me down,” I said, trying to sound haughty. I twisted the corners of my lips while praying that my smile seemed genuine.

There was silence. Sir Leonhart made no reply. The only sound inside the carriage was the turning of the wheels. However, that quietness didn’t feel smothering.

He exhaled a small sigh with his eyes still pointed at me, then squinted, as though he were looking at the sun. His features softened. “You really are strong,” he said under his breath.

I tilted my head, unsure of what he meant.

Just what part of me is strong? I’m a child who can’t hold back her tears the moment she thinks you might turn her down.

Sir Leonhart smiled at me when he noticed my confusion. His shoulders slumped, and his expression looked so gentle. My breath stopped. I was entranced.

At the same time, the final tear that had welled in my eyes spilled over. The drop fell and passed over the contours of my face. Sir Leonhart used his finger to wipe it away, and then he lifted his knees from the carriage floor and returned to his seat, sinking down heavily. I watched him acting crudely and felt my heart leap. He usually behaved like a knight, every action smooth and graceful.

I must have a thing for manly men. My thoughts began to wander off track.

Sir Leonhart clasped his hands above the spacious gap between his legs and leaned forward. He dispensed with his smile and caught me in his jet-black pupils.

“Princess,” he called out to me, sounding collected, causing me to jump.

What am I gonna do if he says he’s already in love with someone?

“Do you mind if I tell you about myself?” he started, in a gentle tone to dispel my anxiousness.

“About you?” I asked, taken aback.

“Yes,” Sir Leonhart confirmed. His pretty lips curved gently upward and his imposing eyebrows arched downward, altogether forming a troubled smile on his rugged, handsome features. “To be honest, I never thought that I’d tell you this. It’s not the sort of tale to be telling princesses, and it doesn’t paint me in a good light either. I doubt you’ll think the same way about me after I’ve told you.”

He wore a self-deprecating smile.

I wanted to reject that notion, but in reality, I knew nothing about Sir Leonhart. He wouldn’t believe me if I disagreed before hearing what he had to say. The idea didn’t sit right with me for another reason as well—if I refused, it would be as if I were pretending that a part of him didn’t exist.

So I said nothing and waited for him to continue.

“I want to always be honest with you.”

I thought that my heart had stopped. His sudden declaration froze me solid.

I feel like he just said something crazy.

Heat steadily spread across my face. Embarrassment and a surge of joy overcame me, and I felt giddy enough to run around while screaming out loud. My heart had not, in fact, stopped; it was fit and healthy and beating fast enough to be heard.

However, the significance of his words appeared to be lost on Sir Leonhart. Still looking composed, he gazed at me, puzzled at my unusual reaction. I was the only one excited, and nothing could’ve been more embarrassing. Even so, I couldn’t keep the grin from appearing on my face.

He wants to always be honest with me, he said. And he’s letting me in on something that he wanted to keep to himself when he could’ve found any excuse to put me off.

I felt like he’d permitted me to enter his world, and I couldn’t contain my joy.

“I’m happy that you’re telling me, Sir Leon.” After revealing my honest opinion, I straightened my facial expression. “Will you let me hear it?” I asked.

Sir Leonhart nodded. “As you know, I’m still single, even as old as I am. But that fact isn’t the result of some firm conviction on my part.”

My jaw dropped and my eyelids flew open and shut several times. “It isn’t?” I asked.

The first shocking revelation had come early.

Sir Leonhart’s bachelorhood was extremely convenient for me personally, but naturally, I’d found it strange. He possessed robust good looks and a well-proportioned build. His skill with a sword was fabled to be the best in all of Nevel, and he held the high post of captain of the royal guard. His personality was great, and he inspired the trust of his subordinates. He hailed from a family of nobles, as the “von” in his name suggested. His father was Count Orsein, and he was descended from the old and prestigious Orsein family.

Nobody could leave an item as ridiculously excellent as that on the shelf. It just wouldn’t happen. As a matter of fact, there was no end to the number of noble ladies who had their eyes on him. And yet, he’d persistently remained single.

I’d always assumed that he had some conviction underlying that choice. For example, perhaps he hadn’t wanted to leave behind a grieving widow, since he could lose his life any day in his line of work. Or maybe he hadn’t wanted to increase the number of people he’d have to protect.

“I’m not a man of high moral standing. In my younger days, I was quite the troublemaker.” His wry smile deepened, and he scratched at his cheek with a finger as if he were embarrassed. He’d used a roundabout expression, maybe out of consideration for my young age, but I assumed that he meant he’d played the field.

Perhaps, as a girl who wasn’t yet an adult, I ought to have been shocked. However, the realization didn’t particularly shake me. I did have my hopes, but I hadn’t expected him to be a saint.

Well, he’s handsome, so of course women would flock to him. That incredibly underwhelming impression was all that I was left with. His past was just that—past. I hadn’t fallen in love with the man in his wild days, but I’d fallen for the current Sir Leonhart, who’d already gone through that period and settled down.

“Right,” I said.

Sir Leonhart looked a little surprised at my understated reaction. Perhaps my choice of replies wasn’t correct for a girl my age, or a girl in love with him—but on the inside, I was in my twenties. I wasn’t so purehearted as to hyperventilate and protest, You’d never do such a thing!

For a while, Sir Leonhart peered at me in silence with great interest, but he soon returned to telling his story. Maybe he’d deemed that I hadn’t understood his implication... Hopefully, that was the case.

“I was engaged once, after I’d settled down a little. She was modest and graceful, and too perfect to be wasted on the likes of me.”

Okay, I take back what I said. It’s in the past, but that’s still pretty tough to listen to.

It hadn’t hit home when I’d only had a vague impression of women being with him, but now, upon learning of this one in detail, my emotions flew into turmoil. As my mental image of the beautiful woman standing beside Sir Leonhart grew more detailed, my heart suffered throbs of pain.

I bet they were perfect for each other, I thought, torturing myself.

But the words that Sir Leonhart said next, while his head sank slightly, brought my attention back. “She was mild mannered, accepting, and she’d never complain about anything. And, unless I’m fooling myself, she loved me... But I wasn’t able to reciprocate her feelings.”

“Huh?”

“I’d been treating her well, or so I’d thought. But she cried and told me that she couldn’t bear it. She said that the more she got to know me, the more she was forced to realize the vast difference in the scale of our affection for one other. That hurt her.”

I couldn’t say anything. His expression didn’t look out of the ordinary, other than the wry smile that he was wearing. However, his voice was as pained as someone repenting their sins. I didn’t know what I could say back to him.

“It was then that I finally realized that I’d never truly loved someone with all of my heart. I must be lacking something important that other people have.”

He’d dropped that like it was nothing, but it felt serious to me.

“I tried to love her,” he continued. “But while I found her charming, I never could. Even when I pictured her falling for another man and leaving me, my heart didn’t feel broken at all. If anything, I felt relieved, like a heavy burden had been lifted from me... I have to say, I sicken even myself,” he remarked scornfully.

I could only chew my lip, still at a loss for what to say.

“She lost hope in me and joined a convent. I didn’t stop her. Not that I’d ever had the right to.”

“Sir Leon...”

“Since then, I’ve received numerous marriage proposals, but I’ve rejected them all. I’d only be making someone else sad.” After a pause, he brought his story to an end. “That’s all I have to say.”

Now that he was done speaking, he watched me with a calm look on his face. He didn’t awkwardly avert his eyes or make any other guilt-ridden gesture, but simply wore a look of resignation and asked softly, “Has your impression of me soured?”

I silently shook my head in response to his question.

Sir Leonhart might have told me about his past to make me give up on him, so that I wouldn’t fruitlessly waste my time on a romance that wouldn’t work, or so that I wouldn’t end up crying in the future.

Certainly, after hearing his story, the prospect of my first love working out now appeared even dimmer than before. I doubted that I could succeed where the pretty, older girls and graceful, reserved women had failed.

But that didn’t mean that I’d be able to just give up. If my love was so small that I could throw my hands up and walk away just like that, then I wouldn’t be feeling the way that I was. Even if Sir Leonhart wasn’t capable of giving his wholehearted affection to other people, that was no good reason for me to bring my love to an end. My love belonged to me—only I had the right to decide whether I ended it or nurtured it.

“Sir Leon, can I ask you just one question?”

“Yes?”

“Am I burdening you?” I asked quietly.

This was the only thing that I wanted to find out after hearing his story.

Staying in love was up to me, but I didn’t want that choice to upset the man I loved. As obstinate as I was, even I’d back down if he told me to my face that I was a bother.

“Of course not!” Sir Leonhart denied without delay, revealing my fear to have been unfounded.

I sighed with relief after hearing the rough, hurried tone of his voice. “In that case, I don’t want to give up on you,” I declared.

His almond eyes grew round in a display of amazement.

Yeah, I can understand your surprise, I thought, as though it had nothing to do with me. I must have it in for myself, saying ‘I won’t give up’ to the person who’s just told me that he’s incapable of falling in love. Maybe I am just love-drunk. Also, a part of me has been duped into believing that I might actually be able to make him come around.

Either way, it’s nothing to be proud of.

The thought amused me. I laughed while staring at Sir Leonhart’s stunned reaction.

“Please, let me continue to love you.”

Until the day that you find someone who means something to you. Until the day that I can put my feelings behind me. Please, don’t take this away from me.

After I expressed a wish that was an honest reflection of my heart, Sir Leonhart went still for a while, and then let out a deep sigh. “I really am no match for you,” he whispered, a smile on his face and a tear in his eye.