I Decided to Kidnap the Male Lead

Episode 84: In the Name of Self-Interest (VI)

Grasping the doorknob, Lawrence turned his head as if he had just remembered something he had forgotten.

“Oh, by the way, I invited Lady Bolsheik to the mansion today. She should arrive in an hour or two…”

“Why are you saying that now, you idiot! There’s no time to prepare!”

With a raging cry, Catherine stormed out of the door ahead of Lawrence.

As Lawrence leisurely walked, a light smile lingered on his lips.

He did tell his sister that had no thoughts of marrying, but…

“It’s difficult to meet good people, and it’s even more difficult to get close to them.”

Befitting of being the next Marquis of Sheffield, Lawrence didn’t miss this opportunity, and once he set a goal, he rushed more tenaciously than Catherine.

He took one step at a time, recalling the bright red hair swaying in the green vineyard.

As if he was walking towards Ophelia.

.

It was the second day after the saint toured the capital, emphasizing her presence, and a few hours before Ophelia was invited by Lawrence and went to the Marquisate of Sheffield.

Ophelia, who was ‘afraid’ of the crown prince (according to Lawrence’s misunderstanding), greedily picked up a meringue cookie in front of him, stuffed it entirely into her mouth, and munched it.

Richard, the person who she was ‘afraid’ of (once again, according to Lawrence’s misunderstanding), was a certain distance away but kept an eye on her, said,

“Cooper is busy with the saint.”

“Sa… int? I’ve heard rumors. Like how there were huge crowds of people on the streets.”

“Yes.”

“Just in time. Though, I don’t know if it’s real or fake. If it’s real, I hope she blesses the farmlands ravaged by locusts.”

Ophelia became sullen at the thought of the reports of damage and the slow restoration that came one after another to the Imperial Palace.

They couldn’t keep regressing when the world was collapsing, so all they could do was somehow think hard and help people make a comeback.

“It’s said she doesn’t have divine power.”

“Ah, I guess… it’s not real.”

“Well.”

Richard took out a small vial.

“The saint is distributing this medicine.”

Easily catching the pink vial that Richard had lightly tossed, Ophelia narrowed her eyes.

“Is this, perhaps…?”

“That’s right. I’ve left it alone because the drugs that become narcotic once mixed with the distributed drug are generally hard to come by.”

“What kind of saint gives out fatigue-reducing medicine? It even turns into a narcotic if used incorrectly, right?”

Richard replied to Ophelia, who had put down the medicine bottle with a bewildered expression.

“It relieves pain.”

“Yes?”

“It’s called blessed water that eases pain.”

“That’s perfect…”

Ophelia couldn’t bear to finish her words, opting to shut her mouth.

It was no different from an initiation ceremony of a pseudo-religion— dazzling with something plausible, and then making people drink strange medicine, claiming that it would alleviate their worldly pain.

“Totally?”

Ophelia rubbed her arms and shook her head.

“This is giving me goosebumps, it’s so similar to what I said when we talk about a pseudo that brings people together.”

Richard smiled faintly.

“That’s correct. The saint doesn’t seem to belong to the temple.”

“Then, really, is she a saint from the pseudo side involved in human trafficking?”

“She never said that with her own mouth.”

“It would be funny if she said it with her own mouth. ‘I am the saint who came out of the cult. I plan to eat well and live well by myself after using all of you and throwing you away like garbage.’”

With her palms on her cheeks and her eyes wide open, Ophelia spoke nonsense in an exaggerated voice.

Shaking her hands as if she was fed up with it, Ophelia’s eyes found Richard, who had turned his head, his shoulders hunched and shaking.

“Just laugh out loud. This isn’t even the first or second time.”

Richard’s laughter resounded almost as soon as the flounder-eyed-looking Ophelia’s words finished.

She pouted at him for a moment, but soon laughed as well like it was contagious.

Eventually, the laughter died down and her throat was burning, so she picked up a tea cup. After a sip of tea and a glance at the medicine bottle, she asked,

“You said that the original producer of this medicine is missing. Seeing that the saint has a lot of this medicine, is the original producer an accomplice of hers?”

“I’ll find out when I bring in the saint.”

After coolly emptying the cup and refilling it again, Ophelia was forced to regret her decision.

“What do you mean? Bring in?”

Ophelia, who had been drinking the tea, was taken aback by Richard’s next words.

“I heard that she must become the crown princess because of a mission given by God. So I decided to invite her to the Imperial Palace.”

“Pu-sup, kuk! Keuk keuk keuk!”

Ophelia coughed and wheezed for a long time before accepting the handkerchief Richard gave her.

She caught her breath, wiping the tea that had dripped down her chin with the crown prince’s handkerchief that had his seal embroidered on it without hesitation.

“Crown… princess?”

“Yes.”

Richard’s reaction was so indifferent and dry like chewed-up sand.

Perhaps Ophelia should have had the same reaction.

When she first heard it, it was so absurd that she felt like running away from home and flying to space… She could choke on it…

She must have known that the person involved, Richard, was so calm that there was no need to care.

But Ophelia couldn’t do that.

She didn’t know why, but she was in a very bad mood and seemed to be more than annoyed, even a little angry.

To soothe her bubbling stomach, she filled her tea cup, but as she looked down at the tea as the hot steam swayed like a haze, she started to get more and more angry.

Crown princess?

What kind of bullshit, no, dog barking!

For now, Ophelia calmly checked the facts.

“Can a saint marry?”

“According to the history of the Bolsheiks, it is possible.”

Ophelia pursed her lips and then bit them shut.

This was about the marriage of a saint, what did it have to do with Bolsheik?

“Even saints who can use divine power are free to love. There is even a record of one falling in love with someone else’s fiancé.”

Ophelia was at a loss for words.

To put it nicely, she fell in love, but in fact she was having an affair with someone else’s fiancé.

Still calm, she asked,

“Was he a Bolsheik?”

“No, it seemed the one who had her fiancé stolen was from Bolsheik. It was a record from when it was a marquisate.”

Ophelia swallowed a sigh of relief and was choked up.

“What kind of a saint is that! …Wait. No.”

The problem wasn’t with the love stories of the past.

It was true that a saint could marry… No, even if it was true, it was absurd to declare she would be the crown princess.

‘Besides, that’s the mission? It’s a mission?’

“The mission is nonsense?”

A voice that was colder than midwinter came out.

It was unexpected. Surprised by herself, Ophelia quickly blinked.

But that was just for a while.

The more she thought about it, the more she couldn’t put it into words.

Unable to hold back her bubbling anger, Ophelia exclaimed indignantly.

“How dare she say such nonsense against Your Highness the Crown Prince!”

At Ophelia’s sharp voice, Richard’s eyebrows rose.

“How could she say such a thing out of her mouth! What crown princess! Even nonsense has to be said in moderation. She’s a silly child, let’s move on!”

Richard stared at Ophelia as she huffed and stomped her feet. Then he said,

“Ophelia.”

“Yes?”

Ophelia, who was mentally feeding a potato-like fist to the unknown saint, turned her gaze to him.

Her blue eyes, like the sky, were filled with sunlight.

As Richard tilted his head, a long shadow ran across her cheek.

“Why are you so angry?”

“What? Of course I’m angry. Isn’t Richard angry?”

“Very.”

…There was not even an ounce of anger in Richard.

Even though Ophelia couldn’t see his face well, he seemed subtly quite happy, but perhaps it was just her feeling.

“No, why aren’t you angry! Ugh, that’s all right. I’ll be angry on your behalf!”

Richard drew closer as Ophelia stomped on her feet like a threatening rabbit.

Without taking his eyes off Ophelia, he asked again.

“I don’t know what’s obvious.”

“Of course, it’s obvious… isn’t… it…?”

Ophelia’s confident answer gradually grew ambiguous, and her voice diminished towards the end.

‘Come to think of it, why am I so angry?’

“I don’t think you’ve ever cared about my position as the crown prince to say that you’re angry because of it.”

She could not find any words to refute.

Even though Richard was the crown prince, she had already stopped caring whether he was the crown prince or just some random guy at the time of the first infinite regression during the National Foundation Day.

She was not denying the status system, but Richard was just ‘Richard’ to her.

Ophelia’s eyes were stained with confusion.

As Richard took a step forward, Ophelia, who involuntarily took a step back, realized what she had done and plunged into even greater confusion.

Why did she back off?

She was obviously annoyed when he distanced himself from her… No, she was frustrated.

After a few days, she acted calmly as if she had gotten used to it, but wasn’t it a problem that kept bothering her like a hangnail on her finger?

But now she deliberately distanced herself from him?

“Ophelia.”

The hairs on the back of Ophelia’s neck promptly stood at the sound of his call, a voice that seemed to be from the bottom of the abyss.

Richard took a step closer to the unanswering woman.

And Ophelia did not move, as if nailed to the spot.

One step like that.

Another step.

The two gradually grew closer.

Ame: *prays reverently* oh god, oh goddess, oh fake saint, please don’t let the next episode start with “because we’re the best of friends!” 

Dea: You can do this Ophelia! Pls realise your feelings and give us the sweet fluffy couple moments we want..and deserve!!