Chapter 11: Gratitude and apology are both important.

“You idiot!”

“Ugh… but—”

“No buts! Why would you… do something like that!?”

In a secluded corner of the venue, far from prying eyes or ears, Violette can’t help but yell at Yuran.
The hand that was around her waist is gone, their bodies no longer pressed close.
The protective presence that shielded her moments ago now stands before her, head bowed in dejection.
She knows it’s wrong to lash out without gratitude after being helped, but she couldn’t hold back—his actions were that shocking.

“Well… maybe hugging your waist was a bit much, but I was desperate to get you out of there—”

“That’s not what I’m talking about!”

“Huh? Then what?”

His head tilts, genuinely puzzled, and she wants to clutch her head in frustration.
How does he not get it?

“Saying things like that—what if you get punished!?”

“Oh, that’s what you meant.”

His nonchalant tone makes her feel like she’s the one overreacting.
How can he be so calm?
It’s making her feel foolish for panicking.

“It’s fine, don’t worry.”

“How are you so calm about this…!?”

He can’t possibly be unaware of what his actions mean.
He defied a prince, openly mocking him with pointed words.
If Claudia were less perceptive, there might’ve been a sliver of hope, but recalling his expression as they left dashes that instantly.
Yuran could be dragged to the ground and arrested right now.
All because he protected her.
If she’d handled it properly, resolved it smoothly, or never gotten involved in the first place, Yuran wouldn’t have had to step in.

“I’m sorry… It’s my fault, this…”

Overwhelmed with guilt, all she can do is apologize, clutching her hair in a mess.
She feels bad for ruining the hairstyle Marin so carefully set, but her frustration with herself overshadows that.
Making Yuran protect her, letting him shield her—above all, not stopping him—fuels her guilt.
She should’ve stopped him, even if it meant slapping him.
The enveloping protection she felt for the first time was something she couldn’t let go of.
And because of that, she’s put Yuran’s position—possibly even his family—in jeopardy.

She shouldn’t crave love or protection.

She thought she’d learned from her past mistakes, but the moment it dangled before her, her resolve crumbled.
She vowed not to want, not to interfere, yet it’s been so little time since then.
Is human nature so stubborn that even a second chance can’t change it?

“…Vio-chan, your hair’s a mess.”

“I’m so sorry… really…”

“No, no, look at me.”

Her tightly clenched hands are gently stroked, loosening their grip.
Only when her hair is freed does she feel a slight sting at her scalp.
Yuran’s large hands carefully smooth out her tangled bangs, now kinked from her grip.

“Thanks for worrying, but I’m really fine. I’m not that reckless, you know.”

“Your actions were completely reckless!”

“Haha, sorry. But it’s really okay, so… just trust me for now?”

His tone, meeting her eyes, is almost parental, making her wonder who’s the older one.
He’s always been reassuring, but that came from his gentle smile’s magic.
This all-encompassing warmth is new.
She finds herself believing it’ll be okay, unable to resist.
Was he always someone who smiled so maturely?

“…If anything happens, I’ll take responsibility.”

That’s all she can say, holding onto her last line of resolve, surrendering to his assurance.
No matter what she says, he won’t back down, and her will to fight his “it’s okay” is already gone.

“Heh, got it.”

He doesn’t press further, perhaps trusting her sense of responsibility, though he seems utterly unworried about it being needed.
His confidence makes her worrying feel foolish.

“Alright, let’s go.”

“Huh…?”

“The sweets—they were just baked, remember? Though they might’ve cooled by now…”

“…You idiot.”

He was so resolute against Prince Claudia, yet he doesn’t hide his concern over whether she’ll enjoy her sweets.
Since Yuran came to fetch her, quite some time has passed.
The sweets might be cold or already eaten.
There’s hope more have been brought out, but it’s all guesswork.

“Either way’s fine. If you picked them, they’ll be delicious even if they’re cold.”

The plate she handed him is probably cleared away by now, and she barely ate from it.
But Yuran’s choices, perfectly tailored to her tastes, will be delicious no matter what.
A bit of coldness is no big deal.

“I’m more worried they’re all gone.”

“That’s fine, I’m sure. It’s a grand event, after all.”

“I suppose, but…”

“Your stomach’s growling, right? You barely ate earlier.”

“Ugh…”

He hits the mark, leaving her speechless.
Her empty stomach is practically rioting.
Normally, she’d get by with just a drink, but eating a little earlier makes her feel hungrier than usual.
Never mind how much her corseted waist can handle—she needs enough to satisfy her organs.
If her stomach’s rare grumbling is loud enough for others to hear, it’d ruin her as a lady.
She’s well aware she’s someone others admire, and that just caused her trouble moments ago.

“I’ll pick out your favorites again.”

“…I can do it myself.”

“Come on, I’m way better at it.”

“Go find your own food.”

“Ugh… fine.”

His puffed cheeks look adorably childish, the familiar, endearing childhood friend she knows.
His normalcy is so overwhelming she can’t help but laugh.

“You were so cool earlier.”

“Huh…?”

The strength of his protective arm, the warmth of his hand on her waist, the comfort of being pulled close—it would’ve felt repulsive with anyone else.
The boyish charm she saw in her once-just-cute friend.

“Thank you… for protecting me.”

“…”

“I was… really happy.”

She knows she shouldn’t want it, that she doesn’t deserve it.
But that’s her truth to bear, not a reason to withhold her gratitude.
His kindness, his actions, were truly, deeply precious.
It was a dream she never dared imagine, and though the guilt was overwhelming, it also brought undeniable happiness.
It wasn’t unpleasant or burdensome.
His feelings weren’t wrong.
She hopes each word conveys that clearly, so one day, when he finds someone special, he won’t hesitate.

“Uh, um… you’re welcome…?”

“Why’s that a question?”

“Well, you just… said it so suddenly!”

“I can say thank you too, you know!”

“That’s not what I meant… ugh, whatever.”

Flustered, then sighing with a mix of exhaustion and exasperation, he seems almost amused.
Maybe her initial outburst startled him.
But gratitude matters, and even a former villainess like her can feel it.
She’s in the midst of reforming, after all.

“I’m getting hungry too… all that tension’s gone.”

“You weren’t hungry before?”

“I could eat, but I wasn’t starving or anything. Now my stomach’s about to growl.”

“Always so extreme… Go get some real food. I’ll head to the desserts…”

“No way, we’re going together.”

Violette, in her dress, moves slower than Yuran.
With their height difference and longer strides, she’d be left behind in no time, and she can’t complain.
Yet Yuran stays by her side, matching her pace, patiently adjusting to her smaller steps.

“You pick that dress yourself?”

“Huh? Yes, of course. Why ask now?”

Violette chooses her own clothes and accessories, sometimes asking Marin’s opinion but never leaving it to others.
Her mother used to choose for her, but that was to mimic Olde.
Since realizing that, she’s never let anyone decide for her.
Yuran’s known this forever, so why bring it up?

“It looks amazing on you. Beautiful and cute.”

“…”

“Isn’t it normal to want to escort someone as stunning as you?”

“…Thanks.”

Taking his offered hand makes walking so much easier.
She shouldn’t lean on him, but after years as childhood friends, he’s maddeningly good at indulging her.

“What’s there… The food’s probably good but small portions.”

“Who eats to get full at these events?”

“The desserts are always plentiful, though.”

“It’s inconvenient if you don’t like sweets.”

“I can handle salty snacks.”

“Probably none here. Plenty of fruit, though.”

“…Depends on the sweetness.”

Casual chatter, sweet and cute desserts, a kind and gentle friend—it’s a dream compared to her past, when she screamed and ruined everything.
There are plenty of concerns—Claudia’s words, Maryjune’s perception—but there’s nothing she can do now.
Acting only risks backfiring, as she learned the hard way today.
Being dragged into villainy without lifting a finger was an unpleasant lesson, but a useful one.

She was right all along—her role is to stay out of the way and live quietly.