Perhaps the medicine given by the princess was effective. Enoch quickly shook off his sickbed and got up. Soon after, he moved to the palace. He guessed that she would for him every once in a while.
Enoch tried to comfort himself, muttering, âItâs better than being beaten.â
As expected, the princess would often call him in, feed him, dress him, and have him rest. Enoch accepted her actions in moderation but was careful not to let Aran get too hung up on him.
Aranâs affection was a double-edged sword. The emperor would kill him at all costs were he to find out that his beloved princess who had reached a marriageable age had feelings for the son of the fallen Grand Duke. So Enoch made remarks that sometimes hurt the princess. He thought that sheâd come to her senses someday.
But the dim-witted princess poured her affection on him. It was like a never-drying river. Enoch, unknowing, sank into her affections.
***
Time passed and it was time for Aran to celebrate her sixteenth birthday. She was no longer a child. Her neck and limbs grew as long as a deerâs, and her body, which were once made of twigs, were filled with soft curves.
Enoh watched her change up close. Sometimes he felt an unknown feeling when the dainty hair of the princess fluttered in the wind and when his gaze fell on her misty and transparent eye. But he shrugged off that feeling. When she was growing up, she was uniformly immature and foolish. Even when people praised her beauty, he snorted inwardly.
âClaudeâs coming today,â said Aran, who was taking a walk in the garden, in an excited tone.
The margraveâs son was two years older than Aran. Having been close since childhood, he always came to see Aran whenever he followed his father to the palace.
âIs that so?â Enoch answered curtly.
Enoch wasnât pleased with Claude. He often started ridiculous quarrels with Enoch whenever Aran wasnât looking. Sometimes Claude made unreasonable demands, and when Enoch refused, he hit him in places that Aran couldnât see.
His outstanding fists of a warrior dealt a considerable number of blows to the rich young master body that is Enoch. Enoch didnât think he would lose to him in skill, but he had no choice but to endure now because no matter what, his opponent was an aristocrat.
In front of Aran, Claude pretended to be a kind angel. His friendly smile which he only flashed when he chatted with the princess was abominable. And the worst thing was the look he gave Aran. Unlike Aran, who treated him as a pure friend, Claude looked at her like a rutting b*stard.
His eyes got more irritating as the days went by and Enoch wanted to poke the b*stardâs two eyes if he could.
Aran, unaware of the circ*mstances, tilted her head. âYou look like youâre in a bad mood. Did something happen today?â
âNothing.â
âLies. Itâs written all over your face that something very upsetting happened.â
ââŠâ
Enoch couldnât tell her what Claude did to him. It was better to get hit a few times than to see Aran shocked and fussing all over him.
Aran clasped Enochâs hand. âYou donât have to say it if you donât want to. The day will come when you tell your innermost thoughts first to me.â
Enoch believed that it would never happen.
âBut just remember, Enoch, that Iâm always on your side. I wish that could be a comfort for youâŠâ