Chapter 25
“Eh?”
I blinked at Tristan.
“How could a mere stable boy have anything to say to the Princess?”
“I have something to say though…”
“I don’t. Please leave.”
Tristan’s attitude was cold. His voice carried no emotion, which made it even colder.
He treated me like a bothersome fly. For someone calling himself just a stable boy, it was quite arrogant.
My goodness. I actually liked it.
This sharpness, this wariness, all of it was exactly the Tristan I imagined from the original story.
Of course, since he was three years younger, he wasn’t as mature as I imagined him, but that made it even more thrilling. To see my favorite character in his youth—how lucky was I?
Soaking in happiness, I said:
“Alright, I’ll go.”
Tristan’s hand, which had been brushing a horse like a machine, paused for a moment.
Was he surprised I backed down so easily? That was a good sign. I smiled brightly and set down the basket I had brought.
“I’ll go, so please eat this.”
“…What is this?”
“A lunchbox.”
Inside was a ham and cheese sandwich, fresh milk, and sweet strawberries—a perfect meal.
Tristan didn’t even glance at it.
“I don’t need it.”
“I don’t need it either. I’ll just leave it here. If you don’t want to eat, throw it away.”
I said with a smile.
“Then I’ll be going now.”
Without hesitation, I turned back and walked away.
The urge to look back kept bubbling up, but I resisted it. Only after getting on the carriage did I look toward Tristan.
But by then he was already so far away that I couldn’t tell if he had eaten the lunch or thrown it away.
It didn’t matter. I thought as I climbed into the carriage: this was just the beginning.
I didn’t know what impression this short meeting left on Tristan, but I had learned a lot:
That his personality was exactly as I remembered, and that he would flatly reject any conversation with me.
That’s how most romance novel male leads are. If the male lead opened his heart too easily, he wouldn’t be a male lead at all. They always remain cold and arrogant for a long time.
If so, all I had to do was act like a proper romance novel heroine.
“Just wait, Tristan. I’ll be the one to open your closed door.”
I grinned. If Tristan saw, he would surely hate it, but thankfully I was alone in the carriage.
The next day, I went to see Tristan again.
“Hello?”
Seeing me appear again, Tristan looked stunned for a moment, then said nothing at all. He ignored me completely and kept working.
Heh, that only made my will to conquer him burn stronger!
“How have you been?”
“Are you hurt anywhere?”
“The sandwich I gave you yesterday…”
I trailed off when I saw the basket I left yesterday still sitting untouched.
“You didn’t eat it.”
I sat down and opened it, then took a bite of the day-old sandwich.
Even Tristan, who ignored me so thoroughly, couldn’t help but glance at me in surprise.
“It’s good.”
Chewing, I pushed forward the fresh basket I brought today.
“Here, I brought another one. Eat the new one.”
But Tristan ignored me again.
I hadn’t expected much, so I simply focused on eating yesterday’s food. The milk was probably spoiled, but the sandwich and strawberries were still fine.
After finishing, I stood up.
“See you tomorrow.”
From the carriage, Tristan looked like a faraway dot. For some reason, it felt like he was watching me. I smiled toward him, even knowing he couldn’t see.
From then on, visiting Tristan became my new routine.
Nothing changed much. I greeted him, he ignored me. I ate yesterday’s food, and sometimes chattered to him even though he didn’t respond. Afterward, I left, promising to return tomorrow.
Watching Tristan care for the horses was like looking at a living painting. I could watch all day without getting bored.
After about ten days, I opened the basket and found that one of the two breads was gone.
“You ate it!”
I squealed with joy.
Tristan said nothing, but I was so happy I felt like jumping.
“Next time, I should bring my own lunch too.”
I said while biting the remaining bread. At that moment, Tristan suddenly frowned.
He had never reacted to my words before, so his sudden rejection shocked me. Startled, I choked on the bread and coughed violently.
“Cough, cough!”
When I looked up again, he was gone, leading a horse away.
That hurt a little.
Maybe Tristan really did dislike me.
Still, wasn’t it the heroine’s virtue in romance novels to keep visiting no matter what?
“Maybe it’s just because I’m a supporting role.”
I muttered, finishing the bread.
Not everything in the original story had to play out the same. I had already changed a lot. But maybe some things couldn’t be changed—like destined love.
“Not that I planned romance with Tristan anyway.”
I only wanted to help him, out of kindness and a little—just a little—fan love.
So why feel hurt?
I stood up again with renewed determination.
The important thing is: Tristan ate the bread. Even if just a little, his wall had cracked.
From that day, Tristan began finishing the lunches I brought.
Maybe it was my imagination, but his pale cheeks seemed to gain a little color after eating proper meals.
Good. Children and teens need to eat well.
I didn’t bring my own food anymore, since Tristan disliked it, and simply watched him while he ate.
Then one day, something new happened.
“What do you want from me?”
Tristan spoke to me first.
“Kyaa! You spoke!”
I screamed without thinking.
His voice was mesmerizing—low, yet clear, right on the edge between boy and man. The faint breath in it was so sexy I could faint.
Flustered, I quickly apologized:
“Sorry! You surprised me by talking all of a sudden!”
He looked back at me, expressionless. I expected his usual annoyed face, but there was only emptiness. That emptiness hurt.
“What do you want from me? I can’t give the Princess anything.”
He repeated. My heart pounded.
This was an important moment.
Depending on my answer, this conversation might continue—or end forever.
What did I want from Tristan? To destroy the Azenbach Duke family together, to inherit their title, to meet Imelda afterward… No. Not now.
Right now, I only wanted one thing.
“I want you to be happy, Tristan.”
His golden eyes widened. Like sunlight piercing cloudy skies, they shone for a brief moment. I was entranced.
But only for a moment.
“Go back.”
Tristan’s face twisted as he glared at me.
His expression mixed anger, fear, sadness, and despair all together. The only clear thing was pain.
He shoved the basket back into my arms—almost throwing it.
“Don’t come here again.”
His tone was rough, but not frightening. Just shocking.
“Why, Tristan? Did I do something wrong?”
He grimaced again, then turned away and jumped onto a horse without a saddle.
“Wait—!”
But he kicked the horse, and it bolted in a frenzy.
“Be careful!”
I knew at least this much: falling from an excited horse could kill someone.
But I couldn’t stop him. He quickly rode away, leaving me alone in the grassy field.
I stood frozen, murmuring softly:
“Why are you acting like this…?”
I didn’t understand anything. And… I felt just a little hurt.
