Transmigrated as the Villainess Princess - Chapter 56

Chapter 56: Rebirth (3)

She froze, her breath catching as his hand cradled her head with surprising tenderness.

The tension that had gripped her moments ago melted away, replaced by something warmer, something deeper.

Unable to pull back, she found herself leaning into him instinctively, her heart hammering against her ribs.

Richard shifted, his movements slow and unsteady. He rested his head on her lap as if seeking solace there.

The sight of him so vulnerable, yet so at ease, left her momentarily speechless.

Then, he lifted his head, his dark eyes locking onto hers.

He is…

At that moment, the world around them seemed to fade, leaving only the two of them suspended in a fragile, electric stillness.

Without a word, he leaned closer, his lips brushing against hers in a kiss that was both soft and searing.

What did we just do…

Time seemed to stop as she closed her eyes, the sensation of his warmth eclipsing every other thought.

It wasn’t hurried or desperate, just raw, unspoken emotions laid bare in a single, intimate moment.

When they finally pulled apart, her cheeks flushed, she met his gaze once more, now filled with questions she couldn’t yet voice.

But for now, words felt unnecessary.

–

The next morning, Ahcehera busied herself preparing breakfast, but her mind was far from the task at hand.

The events of the previous day weighed heavily on her, replaying in vivid fragments that refused to fade.

Something had shifted, something fundamental.

She glanced toward Richard, who was seated quietly by the window, staring out at the dense forest.

His entire demeanor had changed, calmer, more measured, yet undeniably different.

His posture was composed, his gaze steady and cold, lacking the boyish mischief she had once associated with him.

Even his aura felt altered, heavier somehow, carrying a gravity she couldn’t quite define.

This wasn’t the Richard she had first met in the academy hallway, the impulsive teenager who teased her with playful remarks and reckless confidence.

Nor was he the brash, headstrong boy who had worn his emotions on his sleeve.

No, the Richard before her was a stranger in familiar skin.

Ahcehera stirred the pot of steaming broth on the stove, her movements mechanical, her thoughts spiraling.

The memories she had inherited as the villainess princess lingered like a half-finished puzzle, with crucial pieces missing.

The accident involving the Night Owls Squad. The princess’s recovery. Her secret identity.

These fragments floated in her mind, elusive and incomplete. It was as though the memories were deliberately hidden, locked behind an invisible door she had yet to unlock.

But one thing she was certain of, the Richard who sat across from her was no longer the same person.

Her eyes flickered to him again. His profile was sharp against the morning light, the shadows playing across his features like an artist’s brushstrokes.

He had grown into himself, a man who seemed unshakably whole, as if some long-lost piece of him had finally been restored.

The realization hit her like a cold wave.

It must be the work of the dark core.

The dark energy that had seeped into Richard, the core that had nearly torn him apart, hadn’t just left its mark, it had completed him. But at what cost?

Ahcehera’s grip on the ladle tightened, her knuckles whitening. She couldn’t let her guard down, not now.

Whatever the core had done to Richard, it had changed him irrevocably.

And while she wanted to believe he was still on her side, the shadow of doubt crept into her heart like a whisper in the dark.

“Breakfast is ready,” she called softly, her voice betraying none of the turmoil within her.

Richard turned his head, his violet and crimson eyes meeting hers.

For a moment, she thought she saw a flicker of something, the boy he used to be, or perhaps the man he was becoming.

“Thank you,” he said, his tone polite yet distant.

As they sat down to eat, the silence between them was heavy with unspoken thoughts.

Ahcehera forced herself to smile, but deep inside, she couldn’t shake the feeling that the battle with the dark core wasn’t over.

Not for him. Not for her.

The kiss they had shared was never spoken of.

Neither of them brought up the raw, emotional weight it must have carried, as though voicing it would unravel something fragile they couldn’t afford to break.

Richard kept his distance, a deliberate space that felt more like a wall than a mere gap.

Ahcehera, for her part, was equally hesitant, unsure of her own feelings and the swirling confusion that had settled within her since that moment.

She told herself it was best to bury whatever had passed between them. It had been a fleeting experience born out of desperation and survival, not something to dwell on.

And yet, a small, unspoken ache lingered.

Ahcehera refrained from asking Richard about his thoughts.

She could sense his evasiveness, the way his gaze would shift when their eyes met, how his words lacked the warmth they once held.

It was clear he didn’t want to confront matters of the heart.

So, she chose to respect his silence. Perhaps time would untangle the threads they couldn’t face now.

Determined to refocus her mind, Ahcehera decided to leave the hut and explore the northern reaches of the forest.

She prepared enough provisions to last Richard a week, leaving them neatly organized on the table.

Instead of speaking to him directly, she penned a short note.

“Richard, I’ve gone north to explore and gather resources. I don’t know when I’ll return, but I will. There’s enough food to last you until I’m back. Take care of yourself.”

She didn’t trust herself to say goodbye in person. The thought of facing his unreadable expression, of possibly seeing indifference, or worse, relief, was more than she could bear.

By the time Richard found the note, the first rays of dawn were just beginning to light the sky.

His heart sank as he read her words, the finality of her absence hitting him like a cold wind.

He rushed outside, scanning the horizon, hoping for a glimpse of her retreating figure. But the woods were still, save for the rustling of leaves and the distant chirping of birds.

Ahcehera was gone.

Richard stood there, clutching the note in his hand, his thoughts a tangled storm.

Regret clawed at him, sharp and unrelenting. He had let her slip away, and he wasn’t sure if he could ever close the distance between them again.