Married To The Enemy Kingdom's Illegitimate Prince-Chapter 62 — Do You Like Her?

Hearing the sounds of footsteps jolted Cynthia awake, disoriented. Instinctively, her hand reached for a sword, ready for another assassination attempt, sitting on the bed.

When she blinked rapidly and her vision clearly, seeing a round, middle-aged woman adjusting the curtains, she slowly let her guard down, sighing in relief.

"Oh my, did I wake you?" the woman asked softly, smiling when she turned and noticed Cynthia sitting up in bed.

Cynthia shook her head, her gaze drifting around the room as if searching for something—or someone.

"Are you looking for that man? He went outside and asked me to let you know he’ll be waiting for you once you’re ready. Oh, and he got a new dress for you, since the one you wore earlier isn’t suitable without being cleaned first."

"Is that so?" Cynthia’s voice cracked slightly.

Once again, he was being unnecessarily gentle with her, causing her heart to skip a beat.

This is so unfair, Your Highness.

She stepped out of bed and approached the woman, who held up a white dress.

"Do you need assistance with your bath?"

Cynthia shook her head.

"Not very talkative, are you?" the lady chuckled.

Cynthia smiled politely but remained silent as she entered the bathroom.

After a quick shower, she sat at the small dressing table in front of the mirror. She carefully dried her hair before attempting to brush it.

"How long will it take?" Lucian’s voice demanded suddenly.

Startled, Cynthia glanced at his reflection in the mirror. He stood leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed.

"Just a little longer," she replied, struggling with the tangles in her long hair.

She didn’t particularly like having long hair, finding it hard to maintain. But since the maids usually took care of it, it hadn’t been much of a concern.

"I should have brought a maid," she murmured, looking for a hairpin to secure her bun. She froze when she noticed Lucian’s reflection moving behind her.

"You’re not very good at this, are you?" he asked, reaching out to let her hair fall through his fingers.

"Why don’t you leave it loose? You look..." Lucian leaned in close, his breath brushing against her nape as he hesitated. He almost said, pretty.

Surprised, Cynthia turned to face him.

Their faces were just inches apart, and they locked eyes, both recalling the moment they had shared last night.

A light pink flushed Cynthia’s cheeks as she quickly looked away.

"Then, let’s head back to Erion," she said abruptly, standing from her chair.

Lucian nodded and exited the room.

The couple descended the stairs, only to come face to face with a familiar figure.

A blonde-haired young woman with a pair of gray eyes, seemingly around the same age as Cynthia, stood before them.

"Lucian," she called softly.

Cynthia froze at the sound of her voice. At first, she thought she was mistaken—or rather, she begged to be mistaken—because it couldn’t possibly be her.

Unconsciously, Cynthia wrapped her hand around Lucian’s arm, clinging to him desperately. The fear of losing him resurfaced once again, but she didn’t want to ruin the fragile connection they had rebuilt. She wanted him to feel the same pain she did, but to do that, she needed to stay calm and not lose control, or he would end up hating her all over again.

Lucian gently pried Cynthia’s hand off his arm.

"Go outside. Glain is waiting by the carriage. I’ll join you shortly."

Cynthia nodded, her gaze fixed on the ground as she clenched her fists. She didn’t know what kind of expression she was making, and she didn’t want Lucian to see.

With quick steps, she left the inn. She spotted the carriage and entered it hastily, not realizing that Glain had been waiting to open the door for her.

Though surprised by her behavior, Glain paid it no mind. After all, she was known as the infamous villainess. Yet, strangely, the maids had begun to admire her, and almost no rumors about her vile behavior circulated through the mansion anymore. Was it because she had threatened them? Or had she truly changed? The answer to that question remained unknown.

As Glain stood by, he suddenly heard gasping sounds coming from the carriage. Alarmed, he quickly opened the door, only to find the Grand Duchess—known to be emotionless and cold—sobbing. Tears streaming down her cheeks as she gasped for air could be noticed although her silver hair hid her face slightly while she anxiously bit her thumbnail.

"A-Are you alright?" Glain asked hesitantly.

Cynthia, lost in a storm of thoughts, hadn’t noticed his presence until then. She flinched and turned to face him.

Forcing a trembling smile, she lowered her hand to her thigh.

"Of course. I just... remembered a sad story," she lied.

Glain nodded, deciding not to pry into her personal matters, though for a brief moment, he’d been genuinely concerned.

When Lucian emerged from the inn, Glain rushed to meet him and explained what he had witnessed.

Hearing this, Lucian hurried to the carriage.

He sat across from Cynthia, his gaze lingering on her. Though she had wiped away her tears, her cheeks still glistened faintly.

"Glain, let’s go," Lucian ordered.

With a nod, Glain climbed up beside the horseman, and the carriage began moving through the busy streets of the capital.

Cynthia slowly shifted her gaze toward Lucian, flinching when she realized he was already watching her.

"Why are you looking at me?" she asked, her voice laced with nervousness.

Without a word, Lucian moved to sit beside her, startling her.

This had never happened in her past life. What was going on?

Is it because he met that... woman? Is he going to bring up divorce? Like... that time? But... surely there’s still time...

Cynthia’s spiraling thoughts were abruptly interrupted when Lucian took her hand, preventing her from biting her nails.

"Don’t do this."

"Are you going to divorce me?" she blurted out. fгeewebnovёl.com

Lucian stared at her, stunned by her odd question.

"What are you talking about?—"

"That woman," Cynthia interrupted, her voice breaking.

"That woman?" Lucian retook, impatient to hear what Cynthia meant.

"You... Do you like that... woman?"

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