Thinking back, Tristan's behavior since my reincarnation had been oddly peculiar.
He was consistently rude.
Yet, amidst that, he treated me unusually softly.
He bought me delicious food, took me to the kitchen when I said I was hungry, gave me clothes, and brought me to beautiful places like this…
It's absurd, but this is also a common cliché in reincarnation stories.
Supporting or villainous characters who are supposed to like the original heroine end up inexplicably falling for the reincarnated person instead.
There wasn't any room for that to happen, though.
I've been living as quietly as the original Dory did!
If that's the case, though, it's a good thing. I should be happy. Right? It's ridiculous, but… a bit strange!
Of course, I couldn't trust it immediately.
How should I confirm it?
I couldn't just outright ask him.
Should I use this atmosphere to my advantage?
The moonlight is lovely, the sound of the water soothing. It's the kind of setting where you could sit with an enemy for at least thirty seconds.
I subtly scooted closer to Tristan, closing the gap until our sleeves might brush against each other.
Our fingers accidentally touched as I approached, but he didn't pull away. In the end, it was me, flustered, who withdrew first.
Is this a green light?
"Um… Your Highness."
No answer.
"There's something I'd like to ask."
I hesitated, turning my head toward where I assumed his face would be.
And immediately regretted it.
Tristan had already turned his head toward me.
He didn't have time to back away, and I couldn't gauge the distance properly. As a result, something brushed against the bridge of my nose.
It was Tristan's lips.
It was an accident.
It was undoubtedly an accident born from our mutual carelessness.
This could easily be dismissed as a simple mishap if we just pulled away.
But I didn't pull away.
And… Tristan's trembling lips slid from the bridge of my nose, gliding over my cheek until they reached…
…my lips.
Did they touch?
Something grazed my lips. But I couldn't tell if it was his skin or just his breath. Because he immediately jerked back, swallowing a startled breath.
"…"
Tristan half-rose, awkwardly staring at the ground.
What's with this reaction? Did I steal your purity or something? It's not like this could've been your first kiss anyway!
Then, slowly lifting his head, Tristan said something that completely left me speechless.
"…So, what was it you wanted to ask earlier?"
"…"
Is he pretending nothing happened? Five seconds ago, I might have gone along with that. But thinking about where your lips wandered after leaving my nose, there's only one thing I need to ask now.
"Your Highness. I'd rather ask about what just happened."
"…It was an accident born of chance."
"The initial contact was an accident, yes. But, Your Highness, surely you realize the second time can't be considered one."
"…"
He stared down at his palms as if he wanted to hide his face.
Don't be ridiculous. I'm not letting you off that easily.
I decided to be straightforward.
"Your Highness. Do you have even the slightest feelings for me?"
"That's impossible."
The worst possible answer came out without a second's delay. It even echoed as if to rub salt in the wound.
"Impossible… absolutely not."
"…"
"My body just moved reflexively. There was no impure desire or emotion behind it."
"I see. I understand perfectly."
The excuse was so ridiculous that my disbelief practically packed its bags and left on vacation, never to return.
So that's how little I matter to you.
You're the kind of person who enjoys the thrill of flirting but runs away when it comes to commitment.
The heart that had been racing just moments ago now thudded coldly in my chest.
Fine. What was I even expecting from you?
You've always done as you pleased without taking responsibility.
I shot to my feet, the scattered pebbles hidden under my skirt tumbling with a rough sound.
"As you wish, I'll act as though this never happened. Your excuses don't clarify the situation—they only make it stranger!"
"…"
"Thank you so much for showing me this beautiful scenery tonight."
I forced a smile.
The kiss—or rather, the brush of lips—that just happened was now forgotten, wasn't it? So, only this brief walk remains between us.
Tristan didn't offer any more excuses. He simply turned his head away, his expression stiff.
"Well then, I'll take my leave. If I stay out any longer, my family might worry."
"Wait. Let me escort you back. There's only one path, but it's dangerous to walk alone—"
"It's fine. What I'm more afraid of is another 'accident' happening if we walk together!"
"…"
If it had been the usual me, I wouldn't have dared to utter such sarcastic words in front of Tristan.
But I was that angry, and Tristan didn't say anything further.
I immediately turned around and quickened my steps.
The camp's lights twinkled just beyond a low hill, so I wasn't afraid of the path ahead.
'Night strolls are nice! A lovely night walk!'
In hindsight, everything worked out perfectly.
Tristan doesn't like me.
He was just playing around as if it were a romance.
He didn't apologize for the near-kiss, offer a proper explanation, or even bother with a sugar-coated lie. Instead, he made the worst possible choices at every turn.
That's the Tristan I know from the original novel!
'Keep spouting nonsense as much as you like. You're going to marry me anyway.'
Haha.
This is fine. This is good. At least in this twisted situation, Tristan is behaving the way he does in the original.
…But maybe I'm just too tired.
The walk back to camp felt oddly much longer than before.
***
Tristan rubbed his forehead. His mind had been in a daze.
Since when? Was it when Dory had said, "If it's beautiful now, that's enough. It doesn't have to be beautiful all the time to have meaning"?
If that was truly Dory's genuine thought, then the compliment she gave earlier—"In my eyes, Your Highness shone the brightest today"—might also mean that she saw him in a positive light.
But the emotion Tristan thought she might have felt had likely crumbled just now.
'This is maddening…'
When Dory called out to him nervously, "Um… Your Highness," Tristan had instinctively turned to face her. Her unusually close face filled his view.
Perhaps it was the powder on her skin, but the blush on her cheeks stood out even more. A few stray strands of hair, styled neatly by the maids, had slipped down her neck and swayed gently in the night breeze.
Dory didn't seem to care about any of that, yet Tristan's heart tickled at the sight.
While his thoughts churned like a storm, Dory finally asked her question:
"There's something I'd like to ask you."
She had to turn her head as she said it.
…And that was when it happened.
They collided.
Initially, they had sat about a handspan apart, so how did they get so close? Tristan concluded that his bad habits must have resurfaced—he knew exactly what kind of person he was.
Still, what came next wasn't an accident.
Why had he wanted to touch her cheek so much?
The soft cheeks that wobbled when she happily ate snacks. The pale cheeks that sometimes delivered sharp words.
'All that for something so trivial…'
If it were just simple desire, her cheeks wouldn't have mattered.
'Why did I do that? Is that why I had to hear her ask if I had feelings for her?'
Feelings for her? That's absurd.
She was the woman he had longed to escape from for years. There was no way his feelings could've changed all of a sudden this year.
Besides, every time he thought about the engagement, he seemed to hear his father's murmur: "Let's use the third prince as a pawn for a disposable political marriage."
To Tristan, this engagement had always been a kind of brand—a stigma.
'So, clearly, I don't… Dory, I don't…'
The sentence refused to complete itself.
A few months ago, he would've immediately said something like "She's insufferable" or "She's boring."
But this feeling—this emotion hidden behind the revolting label of "a union of surplus resources"—
'…No.'
Tristan shook his head, trying to forget the faint word that had risen in his mind.
'I must be temporarily insane from exhaustion.'
He decided he would have to make time to apologize to his fiancée tomorrow. Though he had no idea what he should apologize for.
Having reached that conclusion, Tristan stood up.
About fifty meters ahead, Dory was walking toward the camp.
The lights there were bright, but the path was too dark and risky to walk alone.
'Who knows when a lost beast might appear.'
Without further hesitation, Tristan removed his shoes and began following Dory.
After only a few steps, pebbles began stabbing into his bare feet. Still, it was better than giving himself away with the sound of boots.
'That woman must be tired too—she's not walking very fast.'
He hadn't noticed earlier, while they talked, how far it was to the lake. Dory's steps were gradually slowing.
'Fool.'
A stubborn and overly principled woman.
Why did she cling to this engagement with a man who wasn't even her type? She could've easily persuaded her parents to annul the engagement, especially since "marrying Tristan offers no benefit to our family" with the Blue Atrium's governance hanging in limbo.
'I'm not even supposed to like women like her. That's why I kept looking for alternatives.'
It had been a long time since he last sent flowers to Maria. Reaching out to her again now wouldn't earn him any kindness.
Should he start looking for another woman instead?
Tristan recalled the faces of the ladies he had met at recent banquets. Yet most of them blurred together like pastel smudges. The only face that remained vivid was Dory Redfield's.
'Why… did I want to show her my favorite childhood hiding spot?'
'Why, even now…'
Suddenly, a faint rustling sound startled Tristan.
Luckily, it hadn't come from under his feet.
But the situation ahead was still unlucky.
There, just beyond him, the source of the noise—a familiar figure—was blocking Dory's path.
Startled, Dory exclaimed, "Rick? What are you doing here—?"
"That's my question, Miss Dory. Why are you wandering outside the camp at this hour?"
"Oh, um, the weather was so nice! I just went for a little walk!"
"That's a rather dangerous hobby. If you're done, may I escort you back to the barracks?"