“What are you talking about?
Why do I suddenly return to the Forgotten Pavilion?”
Elisia's voice trembled slightly.
Then she swallowed her saliva and continued: “I don’t understand what you mean.”
Hold on tight.
“I am now staying in the Second Prince’s Palace, you see.”
Hold on tight, Liz.
“So why—”
“Because you weren't anywhere.
Your maid was away, and your bedroom and living room were empty, so I...”
Franz's voice fell, almost breaking.
He opened and closed his fist nervously.
“Because I forced a kiss on you.
I thought you were disgusted with me and decided to leave.”
Elisia was silent, staring at him without saying a word.
'Why does he say this?
As if he was afraid of losing me.
'It's strange'
In her memory, Franz had always been cocky and self-confident—he had never been one to show so much weakness.
“Have you ever seen a bride run away before her wedding for such a trivial reason?”
She furrowed her eyebrows, trying to speak in a cold tone, but the slight tremor in her voice gave her away.
She was afraid that he might have noticed her turmoil, so she carefully studied his face.
However, his expression remained steady, looking at her deeply, as if he could see what was behind her.
“...As long as that's not the case, it's okay.”
Franz gently reached out his hand and took hold of her fingertips.
When she shivered at his cold touch, he wrapped his entire hand around hers.
“Last time, you didn't answer my question clearly—tell me now that you won't run away.”
Franz's gaze burned with intense emotion, which Elysia could not fully understand, but which was undoubtedly directed at her.
She was the constant center of his attention.
“Do I really have to say it out loud?”
“It's important to me.
If you run away recklessly and get hurt, I won't tolerate it.”
She looked directly at him.
She had no intention of giving in to him or running away from him.
At least, not before she gets her revenge.
“You don't have to worry about me.”
“I'm not worried about you, I'm worried about myf.”
He tightened his grip on her hand, and slowly raised it to place a kiss on her knuckles, without looking away from her.
“If I lose you, I might really lose my mind.”
His wavering gaze gradually faded.
Then he whispered in a deep voice:
“It's okay if you hate me, as long as you're by my side.”
“I...”
Elisia stammered, her lips quivering.
As if he already knew everything — her plan for revenge, and her intention to abandon him later.
'Impossible.'
She pulled back suddenly, pulling her hand from his grip.
As she moved away, the world around her came back into existence, and the purring of the fountain reached her ears again.
She quickly closed her eyes, shocked.
For a moment, she forgot everything, his presence overwhelming her senses.
She looked toward the fountain, biting her lip.
Then she looked back at Franz, who was still staring at her silently.
“If you give me this fountain, I might think about it.”
“The fountain?”
Franz furrowed his eyebrows, staring at her and at the fountain thoughtfully.
Elisia's heart beat anxiously as blackness clouded his gaze.
'He must think I'm ridiculous, asking for a fountain all of a sudden.'
It was just stubbornness.
She wanted something that would give her back something of what Franz had taken from her—even if it was trivial.
The fountain won't change anything fundamentally, but perhaps it will ease her pain every time you look at it.
It may become a symbol of her strength, to stop the repetition of the painful past.
'If he agrees, of course.'
His worried gaze returned to her eyes, and then, with a sudden movement, he pulled her slim waist towards him.
“That's easy.”
He ran his fingertips gently over her jaw.
“Is it really enough for you?”
Franz smiled faintly, looking at her confidently.
“If it meant you staying by my side, I would give you not only the fountain, but the entire Second Prince’s Palace.”
His usual confidence returned, making Elisia wonder if she had asked for something too little.
Franz was the epitome of the radiant son of a rising sun—a quality she had once loved, and now hated with a passion.
“From now on, this fountain is yours.
So, promise me clearly.
Say that you will not run away.”
She bit her lip again, blushing gently.
Franz gently wiped her lips with his thumb.
“Be careful,” he whispered, “my bride, my soul bond, you must not come to harm.”
Her lips parted slightly at his whisper.
Now, she clearly understood why he was worried, and holding on to her like this.
'Because I am his soul bond.'
As Franz said, Elysia was “the bond of his soul” — a truth that does not change, no matter how many lives there are.
The bond is completed upon marriage and physical satisfaction.
Even in her previous life, despite his disgust for her, Franz would frequently embrace her, because that bond soothed mana's violent turmoil.
Finally, everything became clear to her.
If she disappears before the wedding — before the bond is complete — he will be deeply hurt.
That's why he was obsessed with her.
'How naive or foolish was I?'
She snickered to herself inwardly.
Even though she knew his true nature from her previous life, she almost succumbed to some kind gestures.
"I promise.
I won't run away."
She said coldly, pushing his hand away.
Then she turned sharply and continued in a cold tone:
“But I still don’t understand why you talked about the Forgotten Pavilion.
I don’t even know where it is.”
Her voice was soft, devoid of emotion, and she walked away without waiting for his response.
“There's no need to worry—I'll become your 'soul bond' anyway.”
“Elysia—”
“So please, don’t bother me again.”
She dodged his outstretched hand and shot him a sharp look.
Franz, who had seemed at ease a moment ago, was suffering again.
As she watched his cracked expression, Elysia felt a strange sense of redundancy.
Her eyes widened when she realized the truth:
'He's just like me—just like I was in my previous life.'
Franz's mood changed with every word she said, just as she had done before when she was desperately clinging to his words.
It amazed her that a “soul bond” could make him so fragile.
‘If I had known this earlier, I would have taken advantage of her to win his heart, and I would not have wasted my tears and pain in vain.’
But it's too late now.
Elisia sneered bitterly.
The past cannot be rewritten.
This new understanding did not ease her anger, but rather deepened it more.
“Your Highness?”
Franz sat up, blinking in surprise.
He was sitting across from Duke Elian Corneille.
“...continue”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Ilian raised an eyebrow for a moment, then continued his tirade of praise about Glenna.
Ever since his daughter became the first prince's wife, he had been visiting the palace regularly, and would often pass by the second prince's suite as well.
It is clear that he was not satisfied with his alliance with Crito only, but he also sought to win Franz's favor.
“It is really ridiculous to decorate the ballroom with the Ambroses' red roses instead of golden daisies.
Mrs.
Ambrose clearly knows nothing about society etiquette—”
As soon as Elisia announced her intention to use the red roses, Elyan rushed over to complain.
But Franz gave him a cold look, indifferent to the decoration of the halls.
While Ilian was oblivious to the matter, he continued his chatter, and was about to demonstrate the symbolism of the golden daisies, when Franz suddenly interrupted him: “It doesn’t matter.
They are just flowers, they will wither soon anyway.”
“Haha—exactly!
Indeed, you have the heart of a great leader!”
Ilian was surprised by Franz's dry response, so he laughed nervously.
Then Franz calmly put down his cup and said:
“I'm tired today.
I have a lot of things to do.”
“Oh, it seems I delayed your visit.
I will excuse myself now.”
Ilian stood up unexpectedly, shaking off his jacket.
As Franz watched him suspiciously, Ilian suddenly stopped.
“Oh, right, did you hear the news?”
“Any news?”
“Lady Naerys Roshanak, the niece of Her Majesty the Empress...apparently, she will be returning to Calibis soon after her convalescence period is over.”