Fresa lay on the bed, gazing up at the dimly lit ceiling.
Since it was a rule she had made herself, she couldn’t really say she shouldn’t do it now, so she eventually closed her eyes and tried to sleep.
“Surely it’s not the same place as Mr. Lycaon’s, right?”
Of course, she wasn’t alone with Lycaon.
Chloe was lying beside her, and a potted plant with Reese resting in it was placed next to the bed.
Charles showed some concern upon discovering that Fresa was sleeping in the same room as an adult man, but when he realized that Chloe and Reese were together and that others were just a short walk away in the living room, he accepted it.
Of course, Charles couldn’t see Reese’s figure himself, but perhaps because he was married to a fairy, he quickly accepted Reese’s presence.
‘It probably won’t happen in the first place,’ Fresa thought, but she figured her feelings might be different from a mother who had barely reunited with her stolen child, so she didn’t show it outwardly.
By the way, I wonder if Mr. Lycaon is already asleep?
Fresa, lying straight and looking at the ceiling, slightly turned her body towards Lycaon.
Lycaon was lying on the floor, which was an odd place for him—being the grand duke and the owner of the magic tower. It was easy to imagine that Jed might tease him quite annoyingly tomorrow for sleeping on the hard floor.
Almost as if she could see that scene in her mind, Fresa suppressed a laugh and spoke to Lycaon.
“Mr. Lycaon, are you asleep?”
“…Not yet. And you?”
Her answer came a beat later.
Soon, she heard him shifting and then, even in the darkness, Lycaon’s clear eyes looked at Fresa.
Meeting his gaze, she softly said,
“I’m not sleeping yet. Maybe it’s because it’s a strange place.”
“I feel the same. By the way… you worked hard today, Resa.”
Lycaon said calmly in a low voice.
He had already explained how she treated Fedor during dinner.
Fresa blinked slowly and smiled.
“You too, Lycaon. It seems your cooking skills have improved.”
“I’ve always been good at cooking. Well, I’m good at many things, so it doesn’t show much.”
“…Sometimes, Lycaon, you do like to show off a bit.”
“Not that I dislike it or anything.”
“Yes, yes. I like how unabashed you are, Lycaon.”
Fresa couldn’t hold back her laughter and said playfully, prompting Lycaon to fall silent this time.
He wouldn’t have fallen asleep already, so he was likely lost in thought or choosing his words.
Fresa quietly called Lycaon so Chloe and Reese wouldn’t wake up.
“Lycaon?”
Finally, he responded.
“To be honest, I wish you would step away from this matter.”
When everyone was gathered, Lycaon hadn’t said a word. He just looked at Fresa with an expression that was hard to read.
From that moment on, Fresa faintly sensed what he was feeling.
Lycaon was worried about her now.
If his situation had changed, she would also be worried about him, so she couldn’t tell him to stop.
His voice was very careful, and his words were concise.
But her answer probably wouldn’t sit well with him.
He must already know, but he brought up this topic simply because he wanted to express his feelings.
Fresa took a moment to choose her words and replied calmly.
“…You know very well that that can’t happen. If I don’t do it, someone else will have to. I am the only one who has the contract with Lord Reese.”
“It’s a very dangerous road.”
“If I can’t resolve this, everyone might be in danger. If there’s anything I can do, I want to do it. For Lycaon too.”
Hearing her words, Lycaon fell silent again.
Fresa didn’t push him to speak; she simply let him think.
When the silence became so deep that she could even feel Chloe’s breathing, Lycaon finally spoke again.
“Do you remember what you said last time?”
“What do you mean?”
“About how I didn’t meet you for the first time on the ship.”
Ah.
Fresa finally recalled the story she hadn’t heard last time.
Lycaon had definitely acted as if they had met somewhere else back then.
In fact, from the very beginning, Lycaon had been unusually proactive with Fresa.
Even though she had been so openly wary of him.
“If not then, when did I first see you?”
“At a banquet. When you were clinging to Count Gilespi.”
Since that was probably from the original story, it wasn’t a particularly good situation.
And if it was when she was clinging to Lord Rowan Gilespi, it was even worse.
Fresa mumbled awkwardly.
“…It probably wasn’t a very good first impression.”
But Lycaon gave an unexpected reply.
“No. I made eye contact with you then and realized you were hiding something. That it was all just an act.”
It seemed he had seen what everyone else had missed—those moments where everyone looked at Fresa with pity and disgust—because he, being a complete outsider, could see it.
Lycaon had always been remarkably sharp, even in the past, so it wasn’t all that surprising.
Fresa didn’t bother to ask how he knew that, instead asking another question.
“Then we met much earlier. Why didn’t you act like you knew me back then?”
“I didn’t want to seem like a strange person, so I kept it to myself, knowing I would be the only one to remember you.”
“Starting with giving me motion sickness medicine right away was suspicious.”
“Did you take that motion sickness medicine?”
Fresa hesitated for a moment but answered honestly.
“…I won’t lie. At the time, I couldn’t trust anyone, so I threw it into the sea. I’m sorry.”
Lycaon let out a soft laugh.
“I figured as much. That’s more like you.”
A rustling sound came from outside the window—the falling of snow.
For a moment, the two were silent.
Sometimes, silence is more comfortable than words, and Fresa often felt that way when she was with Lycaon.
He was someone whose mere presence made her feel at ease, even without many words.
But suddenly, a question she had been holding back came to mind.
It was abrupt, but it was the very question she had always kept inside her heart.
Fresa closed and opened her eyes once before softly speaking.
“Lycaon, if this world were a novel written by someone, what do you think it would be like?”
In fact, this was her story, and it was everyone’s story.
The only difference was that in a novel, only the love stories of the main characters existed; everyone else was just a supporting cast.
Of course, there were many cases where even the supporting characters didn’t get much attention.
Anyway, after the story’s conclusion, the protagonists weren’t Alicia and Rowan, but everyone belonging to this world.
Lycaon didn’t respond immediately this time either.
He didn’t ask why she was asking such a question.
The sound of snow falling from the tree next to the window was clear: crack, rustle, thud.
Only when the snow had piled up enough did Lycaon finally answer.
“I’d like you to be the protagonist.”
It was an answer she had never expected.
Of course, Fresa thought that everyone here, including herself, was the protagonist of their own life.
But she didn’t wish for someone—like Lycaon—to be the main character.
“…Why do you think that?”
Fresa asked softly, prompting him.
This time, Lycaon responded straight away.
“I have a preferred ending.”
What kind of ending did Lycaon hope for?
But she didn’t press further, as his tone and emotion already conveyed enough.
Fresa started to speak in a light tone.
“Though I appreciate that very much, I’d rather Lycaon be the protagonist.”
“Why?”
“Most protagonists in novels are strong, either internally or externally. And Lycaon, you’re stronger than anyone I know.”
If Rowan had been the protagonist, this story might have turned out very differently.
But Lycaon as the main character—doesn’t that suit him well enough?
While Fresa was lost in that sudden thought, Lycaon muttered slowly.
“…Thanks for the words, but I don’t think my opinion will change. I believe you are stronger than me.”
“Then, shall we think of each other as our own protagonists? It’s a bit embarrassing, but I think it might surprisingly help when things get tough.”
“Alright, let’s do that.”
It was said half-jokingly, but Lycaon accepted it more easily than she expected, so it was decided.
Funnily enough, now they were each other’s protagonists.
Fresa chuckled softly and yawned lazily.
As the night deepened, drowsiness gradually crept in.
She asked in a half-sleeping voice,
“Shall we call it a night?”
“Good night, Resa.”
“Good night, Lycaon.”
Fresa fell asleep right there, in the position facing Lycaon.
But Lycaon closed his eyes, then reopened them, staring at Fresa for a long time.
It was probably going to be a night he couldn’t sleep.
~·~·*· . ·*· . ·*· . ·*·~·~
The next day, as if the snow had suddenly stopped, the bright sunlight streamed in.
The winter air was still cold, but the absence of a blizzard was enough to be thankful for.
After a simple breakfast of bread and soup, Fresa and her companions set out to meet those who exhibited symptoms similar to Loren’s.
~·~·*· . ·**##^^##**· . ·*·~·~
Hey there, It’s Green Rose 😉
Since I human I might have make some mistakes while translating so please if you find them let me know here in the comments or in the Discord group so I can correct them and be careful in the future so they do not repeat.
Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed this chapter.
~~~Next Chapter~~~
Next chapter will be released on December, 9.
See you then!!
