I Decided to Kidnap the Male Lead

Episode 86: In the Name of Self-Interest (VIII)

Ophelia heard Richard clearly, but could not understand immediately.

She blinked and stared for a second. No way? That was what the smile on her face indicated.

“I’ll go with you.”

Richard grinned fiercely, showing his teeth.

Even though he was clearly smiling, a chill went down Ophelia’s spine for some reason, so she couldn’t answer. She only reflexively nodded.

In this way, the Marquisate of Sheffield received one unexpected guest, a guest with too huge a presence to be called an uninvited guest.

A guest that Lawrence, who invited Ophelia, never wanted to greet at that moment and in that place.

.

Time flowed like water, and it was now the appointed hour.

A moment when the whole mansion moved busily beneath the water, and looked more elegant than ever in the visible part.

“She has arrived.”

Catherine, who was shaking her legs nervously, jumped to her feet at the butler’s words.

Lawrence pressed her shoulder tightly and said,

“I invited her, so I’ll bring her in. Sit down.”

“What? How can I trust you? I want to go too.”

“The heir and lady of Sheffield rushing out and scrambling to take her hand? Imagine how uncomfortable Lady Bolsheik would be.”

At Lawrence’s irrefutable words, Catherine gritted her teeth, and in the end, her butt was put back in place.

“Do it right!”

“But of course. I wouldn’t dare to be rude to someone I’m about to propose to.”

Seeing Lawrence’s grin, Catherine rubbed her ear.

“Don’t call it a proposal. It’s creepy.”

“I’m going to propose, so it’s called a proposal. What should I call a proposal instead of a proposal?”

“Shut up and go.”

Having teased Catherine to the fullest, Lawrence went out and opened the door of the carriage in which Ophelia rode.

…He bitterly regretted that he should have come with his lovely sister.

But regret was always late.

Faced with completely unexpected golden eyes, eyes that for some reason were deeply sunken in and could make one choke, Lawrence involuntarily took a step back from the carriage.

Then, behind the open carriage door, Richard appeared.

A night-like hair that absorbed all the pouring sunlight, and a lion’s golden eyes that put everything in the world under its feet.

All the servants present bowed deeply, and Lawrence followed suit.

“I see Your Highness the Crown Prince.”

“Lord Sheffield.”

Richard glanced lightly at Lawrence and then put his hand inside the carriage.

The one everyone in the mansion had been waiting for took his hand and emerged from the carriage.

The red hair that swayed beside a white neckline, and obvious at a glance, blue eyes that were clearer than today’s clear sky without a single cloud.

“Good afternoon, Lord Sheffield.”

“Lady Bolsheik.”

In the ideal scenario drawn by Lawrence, he would hold her hand, politely escort her, and solve the still awkward relationship between them with small talk on the way to the mansion… 

When it became three instead of two, the atmosphere did not ease, and it became a silent walk where no one opened their mouths.

Arriving at the mansion and the prepared drawing room, Lawrence grabbed the doorknob and hesitated.

“With all due respect, could Your Highness give me a moment?”

At the earnest request, Richard nodded without further questioning.

Lawrence managed to open the door just wide enough for his body to slip into the drawing room, and he met the eyes of Catherine, who had her arms wide open with a face full of anticipation.

Seeing this, Lawrence let out a deep sigh.

“I had a feeling it would be like this.”

“Huh, Ophelia?”

Catherine looked behind Lawrence. She approached the door, but she froze on the spot at his following words.

“His Highness the Crown Prince is here as well.”

“What…”

“I don’t have time to explain. He’s right at the door. He’s here with Lady Bolsheik. Be polite.”

“Uh… yes.”

Catherine knew very well that Lawrence would never fool around with the crown prince’s name, so she quickly straightened her dress.

She took a deep breath and threw the door of the drawing room wide open, just as Lawrence, who breathed heavily, said,

“I apologize. Your Highness.”

“Don’t worry.”

“I see Your Highness the Crown Prince.”

“Lady Sheffield.”

Richard simply nodded, and Ophelia poked out from behind him.

“Catherine.”

“Ophelia!”

Catherine, who greeted Ophelia like they had 10 years of separation, hesitated.

It was because Richard’s gaze was stinging.

“My apologies again, Your Highness.”

The gaze was so blatant that Lawrence stepped in front of Catherine and bowed his head deeply.

Ophelia, however, was not at all suspicious.

Contrary to the look in his eyes that seemed like he would burn Catherine at any second, Richard’s expression seemed happy for some reason.

Come to think of it, there were very few cases where Catherine and Richard faced each other so close.

Ophelia looked back and forth between Catherine and Richard.

What a handsome man and beautiful woman.

Although she was called the hive of society, she was Catherine Sheffield, who was also called the flower of society.

Standing side by side, they really looked like a painting.

Ophelia frowned unconsciously when she remembered that.

Yes… Well. Visually, they suit each other, and being from the Marquisate of Sheffield, she could be the crown princess,

Catherine was far more appropriate than a fake saint.

Certainly, Catherine said that she no longer had any interest in the crown prince, but how could the world go as she pleased?

Ophelia thought of all the plausible young ladies, not just the saint and Catherine.

But no one whom she imagined standing side by side with Richard made her think ‘This is it!’ It didn’t fit well enough.

It reminded her of her mother’s son-in-law condition, which seemed to be to bring a unicorn that wouldn’t exist in this world.

Wasn’t Richard like a unicorn?

A person who could stand by his side…

The crack between Ophelia’s eyebrows grew deeper and deeper.

Then she tilted her head.

‘What’s wrong?’

Every time she pictured Richard holding his hand out to another lady and standing side by side with her, a thorn rose from under her stomach and stabbed her heart. 

It had the name ‘jealousy’ attached to it, but Ophelia didn’t register the name, so she just rubbed her insides.

Unsurprisingly, unlike Ophelia’s thought, the reason Richard was happy was not Catherine, but her ring.

A ring of the same shape as Ophelia’s ring, with only a small design difference.

He just realized.

‘Riri’ and ‘Cathy’ were nicknames for Iris and Catherine, and the rings were for friendship.

Richard, who was in a much better mood, and Ophelia, who was in a much worse mood.

A drawing room with four people. They sat together with the Sheffield siblings.

As if sitting on a cushion of needles, an uncomfortable silence that made the skin sting fell.

Rubbing her uncomfortable stomach, Ophelia’s gaze shifted left and right.

‘I’m familiar with this…?’

It was the same as back then.

“It’s dangerous!”

“That’s not a matter for the young lord to decide.”

Searching for a brief memory, Ophelia nodded.

With the difference of Catherine, it was the same air as in the brewery.

Richard sat in front of Lawrence with his back buried deep on the sofa, his arms draped over the armrests, and his legs crossed, staring at him.

Lawrence didn’t make eye contact with him, but he didn’t tremble or fall flat on his gaze.

And herself.

Ophelia suddenly found trapped in this situation, holding Catherine’s hand tightly.

Had it not been for the warmth of Catherine’s soft hands, she would have run out of this place.

Catherine, too, was feeling this subtle but uncomfortable flow of air.

However, it was far more important to hold Ophelia’s hand tight, so she was busy controlling the corners of her mouth that were about to break down and smile.

—Tak.

Soon, steaming cups were placed down, and Ophelia let out a light sigh at the familiar scent of chamomile.

Picking up the teacup, she paused.

This was because chamomile was not only in her glass, but also in those of Catherine’s, Lawrence’s, and Richard’s.

Catherine did say before that she liked chamomile, but the same tea for Lawrence and Richard?

There was no way that the Marquisate of Sheffield lacked money to prepare another tea, and they would not be so clumsy that they could not prepare tea even for a sudden visit.

“Catherine.”

Ophelia ended up speaking a little louder than an ant’s crawl because she was so close to her.

“Huh?”

“Does Lord Sheffield enjoy chamomile?”

“No.”

The reply was in such a refreshing tone that Ophelia was confused for a moment.

“It’s not that he enjoys it… but he doesn’t…?”

Catherine nodded with the utmost vigor, and Ophelia was silent for a few seconds before she asked another question.

“You’ve heard about the tea His Highness enjoys, haven’t you?”

Ame: Idk what’s going on, but i’m sure it’ll be funny. RIP in advance, Lawrence, I’ll build you a nice grave. 

Dea: it’s coffin building time! I have a feeling he won’t go through with the proposal and if he does good luck lawrence