My New Love That Isn’t Fated - Episode 33

A pleasant smell woke Lilia.

Rain had started pouring outside, covering the window with a sheet of water. It was dark beyond the glass. There were no streetlamps in the narrow alley. Rubbing her eyes, Lilia sat up and headed for the door. A warm light seeped through the cracks.

She placed her hand on the doorknob. Her heart pounded in her ears.

A chill ran up her spine, and Lilia held her breath.
Being locked up by Elad—her body remembered it, and the sensation overlapped with old memories.

She bit her lip and calmed herself. The door opened easily.

Inside, a fire crackled in the fireplace. Owen sat on the sofa, wearing a white shirt and a robe, flipping through the pages of a book.

“Lilia. Did you sleep well?”

“Y-yes.”

“What’s wrong?”
“It’s just… it still feels like I’m in a dream. I was a little startled.”

How long had she slept?
It was already 9 p.m. Hunger gnawed at her stomach. Owen stood and took her hand, guiding her into the living room. On the table in front of the sofa were square paper boxes with takeout food inside.

“I had the café owner make this—clubhouse sandwiches. Want to eat a little, Lilia?”

“Can I?”

“Of course. Can you drink lemon Perrier?”

“Yes. Lord Owen… did you go to the Rainy Night Café?”

“You were sleeping so peacefully… Sorry for leaving you alone. Were you anxious?”

“No… I just woke up now, so I didn’t notice. Thank you, Lord Owen. I’m not a child anymore—I’ll be fine.”

“I just want to stay close to you. That’s all.”

Maybe that wasn’t what he meant—but still,
Lilia felt her cheeks flush. After everything with Elad, it felt too shallow for her heart to ache from Owen’s kindness, and yet… it did.

“If I’m bothering you, just say so. I’m only doing what I want to.”

“You’re not bothering me at all. I just feel grateful.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

They drank the lemon Perrier and ate the sandwiches.
Lettuce, boiled egg, roast beef, and tomato were piled generously inside. Every bite brought a mix of flavors. The crisp lettuce and flavorful beef made it really satisfying—and delicious.

Taking a big bite of the sandwich, Lilia noticed Owen’s gaze and smiled.

“Have your appetite back?”

“Yes. It’s really good.”

“That’s good.”

“You keep watching me… It’s a little embarrassing.”

“Ah—sorry. I’m just happy to see you eating so well.”

Maybe this was how a stray cat felt when someone fed it.
Owen finished eating first, wiped his hands, and began reading next to Lilia.

The book was written in ancient script. Lilia followed the characters with her eyes.

“This looks like… a princess’s diary, too.”

“Yes. It’s from a princess who wrote the diary housed in the Tenegro Library. It’s actually a shared diary—between her and someone else. Two women writing back and forth.”

“A shared diary? That sounds fun. Thinking of ancient princesses doing that… it’s kind of adorable.”

“It’s really interesting. But hard to read. It’s personal, so the writing is too soft, with lots of unfamiliar words.”

Owen added with a small smile, “Also, it feels like I’m sneaking a peek at a woman’s private diary… and that makes me hesitate a bit.”

Lilia laughed. He had a point.
A diary was something deeply personal—not written for others to see. Reading one could stir a bit of guilt.

“…‘Father went out today with his mistress again. It’s absolutely infuriating,’” Lilia read aloud. “That’s what she wrote.”

“You’re quick at reading.”

“I’m only reading the parts I can understand. Haha, wow. This princess is really mad.”

“Who do you think she was writing to? Her name seems to be Ayril Feri.”

Princess Ayril’s writing was filled with anger.

“Falling for a young maid at his age. It’s unbearable to watch. Father’s a fool. I was so angry, I wrote ‘cheater’ on his underwear. His mistress will see it when he takes them off. Serves him right.”
Lilia paused mid-bite.
Then she covered her mouth with her hand and shook with silent laughter.
She had never imagined a princess doing something like that.

“Pfft… ahaha…”

“Something funny?”

“Yes. Princess Ayril took her revenge. She wrote ‘cheater’ on the king’s underwear—the ones he wears for his mistress.”

“That’s intense… I didn’t catch that part. I could only follow the earlier lines: her father was cheating with a young maid, blonde and curly-haired. ‘Men are weak to pitiful women,’ she wrote…”

“Some things never change.”

Lilia thought of her stepmother, of Louise.
She touched her own brunette hair.
She was pitiful, perhaps—but not blonde, nor curly-haired.

“Maybe if I had blonde, curly hair, things would’ve been different.”

“You’re beautiful just the way you are. Not every man is drawn to blondes with curls.”

“Fufu… I was joking. Lord Owen, this princess must have been a really strong person. In the next entry, the other woman writes, ‘Your crimson eyes, filled with fury, shine brightly. Your black hair is so beautiful. You’re radiant when you’re angry.’”

“Who do you think this other person is?”

“…‘Marioca.’ In ancient script, that means ‘witch.’ A witch… named Lindel.”

Lilia traced the page with her finger.

When she looked up, Owen’s face was very close.

Startled, she leaned back. She’d been too focused on reading.

Owen’s golden eyes… they seemed to shimmer with warmth.

Maybe it was just her imagination.
Still, the thought embarrassed her.