The Unlucky Bride Is Loved by the Fortunate Desert King - Chapter 19 – The Jealousy of the Goddess Hera

(I… I have to see Al…)

I didn’t plan to question him. I just wanted to see his usual smile — that was all. Leaving my hiding spot behind the pillar, I quietly went to look for him.

Before long, I found him. A large crowd had gathered in a grand hall — as big and splendid as a gymnasium — chatting noisily among themselves. It seemed to be a break time.

The number of people made me hesitate for a moment, but I quickly spotted Al and felt a wave of relief.
Even among the crowd, Al shone with a presence that drew every eye toward him. Mine, too, followed him without even realizing it.

“Al…” I was about to run over to him — when I noticed several young men surrounding him.

Every one of them was strikingly handsome. They laughed together like old friends, some resting their hands casually on Al’s arm.

And Al… didn’t brush them away. He just smiled softly.

(So… it’s not just me…)

It felt like someone had hit me in the head with something heavy.

I thought Al was kind only to me. He had helped me by chance, and somewhere along the way, I misunderstood. Because he was so gentle, I started believing he might actually care for me — that I was special to him.

How foolish. How naive of me.

—She was the wife of Zeus, known as the jealous goddess.

Ishaq’s words echoed faintly in my mind. And now, without question, I was jealous too.

Jealous of those beautiful men standing so close to Al. Even though I had no right to ask him to look only at me.

How could I ever become Asaad’s bride like this? Just being apart from Al for a short while made me ache to see his face again. I wanted to see him. I wanted to be near him.

(This isn’t right…)

If I stayed with Al any longer, I would fall in love with him. I would beg him to take responsibility for my feelings — to make me his wife.

There was only one conclusion I could reach.

I could no longer stay by Al’s side.

And in that moment, I remembered something. That happiness was never meant for me — not in this life. That ever since the day I was born, misfortune had been my only companion.

I thought about calling out to Al, but I didn’t have the courage to push through the several layers of people surrounding him. I couldn’t even think of what I should say.

To Al, I’m nothing more than a guest. Once I leave this mansion, any and all ties between us will be severed.

Al and I are just strangers.

The moment I realized that, I turned on my heel. Why, I wonder—why does my chest hurt so much?
I should’ve already known that Al and I were complete strangers, and yet, why are tears spilling down like this?

I’m selfish. I rejected Al’s hand when he reached out, saying I shouldn’t touch him. And yet, even as Asuad’s bride, my mind is filled with nothing but Al.

It’s obvious that this can’t go on. When I reached the back of the mansion, where no one was around,
my tear-swollen face reflected in the window.

“What a terrible face…”

If Al saw me like this, he’d surely be surprised and ask what had happened. I’ve always made Al worry.

He’s my benefactor—I want him to keep smiling. I don’t want to trouble him any further because of me.

—Once the Thousand and One Nights Festival (Alf Layla wa Layla) ends, I’ll leave this mansion.

Al said he would wear festival attire for my sake. I’ll etch that sight into my memory, and then go to marry Asuad.

“Lady Yuzu…?” Ishaq was in the grand hall, arranging the festival procedures, when he thought he caught a glimpse of Yuzu out of the corner of his eye.

But like a midday mirage, her figure had vanished without a trace.

(Was it just my imagination?) Even so, she’d seemed unusually anxious. A feeling of unease stirred in his chest, and he informed Asuad.

“Lord Al, I believe Lady Yuzu was here just a moment ago.”
“What?” Asuad, who had been used as a living mannequin for adjusting ceremonial attire and testing gemstone color matches, looked thoroughly displeased.

“I told you—if Yuzu comes, you’re to call me immediately. So? Where did she go? I’m going back to her place right now. I’ve had enough of being treated like some kind of doll by everyone here.
It’s been a whole week since I’ve even been able to talk to her properly. What’s the meaning of this, Ishaq? I’m leaving.”

As Asuad pouted and threw a childish tantrum, Ishaq’s lips curved into a thin, dangerous smile.

“That won’t do. You are of noble birth—what kind of childish statement is that? You’ve fulfilled this duty many times before, have you no. I understand your deep affection for Lady Yuzu. However, Lady Yuzu is not your bride. It would be best to enjoy your honeymoon after you’ve properly established your relationship.”

“Ghh…” Unable to refute such flawless logic, Asuad’s dissatisfaction only deepened. He furrowed his brow, his displeasure plain for all to see—he looked like a sulking child arguing with a parent.

Ishaq let out a deep sigh from the bottom of his chest. “If the tutors who once guided you could see this, they would surely lament. Come now, compose yourself and finish the remaining work. Do that, and you’ll be able to see Lady Yuzu before she retires for the night.”

A dull ache pricked Ishaq’s chest. It was he who had suggested to Asuad’s father that Asuad should serve as the main figure for the festival. But that had been before Yuzu appeared.

(This is no excuse, but I never meant to drive the two of them apart…)

In the East, there is a saying: “Those who interfere with another’s romance will be kicked to death by a horse.”

(Indeed, that fits me perfectly. Though, in this country, I suppose it would be a camel that does the kicking… I’d rather avoid that.)

Ishaq hadn’t been sleeping much these past days, and his head throbbed.

(More importantly, I must look after Lady Yuzu, whom I’ve been neglecting…) She hadn’t even been assigned a proper attendant.

(After the festival, I’ll make sure Lord Asuad has plenty of time to spend with her. And they’ll need to clear up all these misunderstandings.)

As he ticked off matters one by one on his fingers, multiple voices began calling his name—asking for him to confirm the progress of the ceremony.