RPES CH 35

Chapter 35

It was already the third day of our journey.

Inside the carriage, Arne had fallen asleep with a book in his lap—the one we bought at Kennith’s.
I held another book myself, the novel from Kennith:

[The Fiancé Murder Case]

Originally, I had planned to read it, but it turned out… I got terrible motion sickness.

I won’t go into detail. Let’s just say I nearly embarrassed myself in front of everyone.

So now, arms crossed, I just glared at the cover instead.

(If only, in my past life, I hadn’t gone blind! If I’d simply been able to read the title, I would have realized it was a detective novel.)

If only Bambi were here.

I had been thinking that all day.

Of course, the Bambi from this life wouldn’t know—because the blind girl and the stranger who read the novel aloud existed only in my past life. But still, the Bambi from before, who stayed by me until the very end… surely she would have known. Who that man was. And what the novel truly was.

Back then, when I was still living at the marquis’s estate, Bambi used to visit me every week or two, bringing me news about Leonie’s movements or little stories to cheer me up.

…Wait.

If Bambi goes to visit me now—what then? She’ll go to the marquis’s estate, but I’m not there anymore!

She might find my empty room and think I’ve been kidnapped. Or even that I’m dead!

If that happens, it’ll be chaos. She might tear the whole townhouse apart in rage.

No—that place is the marquisate’s property!

“ Sophia?”

“Ah—nothing!”

I must have jumped to my feet without realizing it, nearly hitting my head on the carriage ceiling. I coughed awkwardly and sat back down.

Wait. What about Arne, who had been sleeping on my lap?

Thankfully, Owen had already pulled him into his own arms.

Right. This wasn’t the time to panic about Bambi. She wasn’t that reckless… probably.

Maybe.

I noticed Owen rubbing his eyes across from me. He looked… tired.

“ Owen, didn’t you sleep well?”

“ It’s nothing. I can go several nights without rest.”

Which meant he hadn’t been sleeping. Why not?

It wasn’t the hotels—we’d been staying in the best suites, with perfect service. There had been enough beds too. But somehow, every night ended the same:

The lights went out, and both Owen and Arne ended up in my bed. Arne nestled into my arms, Owen stretched out at my side. We’d talk quietly while listening to Arne’s breathing, until I drifted off.

And every morning, Owen was always the first to rise. I’d never once seen him asleep.

“…So why didn’t you sleep?”

“ It’s nothing serious.”

I frowned, then suddenly had a thought.
…Something indecent?

“ No.”

“…What?”

“Whatever you’re imagining—it’s written all over your face. And no, it’s not that.”

He pressed his hand to his eyes, lips quirking faintly, before finally confessing:

“ Don’t misunderstand, Sophia… but… I noticed something. You seem to be taking sleeping medicine at night. I was worried you weren’t resting well.”

“…What?”

“I don’t take anything like that!”

I wasn’t even the sensitive type when it came to sleep. Why would he think that?

But Owen just looked calm, as if he expected me to deny it.

“You don’t need to hide it. I only care about your health.”

I tried to piece it together. Then I remembered—long ago, when Owen barged into my room at the Bartoli estate, there had been medicine in my drawer.

Those pills had been for when Father ordered me locked up without food. I had taken them to survive that week.

So Owen must have misunderstood.

But explaining would only make me sound pitiful. So I simply nodded.
“ That was in the past. I don’t need them now.”

“ I see. That’s a relief.”

He looked genuinely reassured. His face was so serious, it was hard to believe he was the same man who always teased me.

Wait.

So every night… the reason he came to my bed wasn’t to bother me, but to check if I could sleep?

He stayed awake the whole time, just to make sure?

“…You could’ve just asked me.”

I muttered softly.

But Owen only replied calmly:

“I was starting to suspect it wasn’t true. After all, you sleep like a sloth.”

“Exactly. So from now on, you should sleep like a sloth too.”

“ Alright. Lack of sleep is terrible for aging.”

“…Aging?”

I blinked. He didn’t look old at all.

But Owen explained smoothly:

“Your preference is for younger men, isn’t it? I’d better keep a youthful face.”

“…Huh?”

I froze. He was smirking at me.

Wait. Did I actually say that to him before?

Memory hit me like lightning—yes! The night he intruded into my room at the marquis’s estate. I had muttered it aloud while embroidering:

“The Duke of Glentino isn’t my type.”
“…Lies.”
“…But I do like younger men.”

Oh no. He’d been awake?!

“You should’ve said something!” I cried.

I couldn’t remember everything I did that night—but I was sure I’d acted foolish, thinking he was asleep.

My face burned, but Owen just shrugged easily.

“And you thought I’d fall asleep so easily? Our first night together, in your bed?”

“Careful with words. We just shared a bed, nothing more.”

But… yes. That was also the night he first saw my sleeping pills.

“…Anyway. From now on, you will sleep properly. Forget aging—you’re obviously tired.”

“ As you wish.”

He nodded with such a warm, gentle smile. But I knew he wouldn’t actually follow my advice. His gaze flickered briefly toward Arne before returning to me.

I pretended not to notice.

After a while, Arne and Popo both woke. By then, it was nearly lunchtime. My own stomach was starting to growl.

Arne rubbed his eyes.