The Male Lead Is Obsessed With My Health Chapter 215

My cheeks stung.

The gazes were fiercer and sharper than they had been at the Domel Auction.

‘At this rate, they’re going to bore holes through my face.’

As if he’d stopped bothering to hide his discomfort altogether, Pession was openly radiating an icy aura.

So much so that people who had been bright-eyed and eager as they approached him ended up coughing awkwardly and turning away.

It felt like the temperature had dropped just in that area alone.

“Good thing it’s not winter, right?”

“…….”

Ciel stared at me in a daze, clearly unable to adjust to the situation—me, calmly enduring Pession’s intense hatred (?), and all.

“What on earth did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything?”

“You didn’t do anything, and Pession’s like that?”

Noel, who had joined us a bit later, kept looking me over with concern.

“Are you okay?”

Was I okay?

If anything, this was great.

The look in his eyes—like he was so conscious of me he wanted to do something about it—was incredibly entertaining.

“Want to go over there?”

“Huh?”

Even after we moved, Pession’s gaze followed me. It really did seem like I was the only thing in his field of vision.

“Ah, this is seriously hilarious.”

After looking like he was dying from how much I was bothering him, he still had the nerve to say it wasn’t because I bothered him?

What a joke.

I still didn’t know exactly what Pession was thinking, but at this moment, I could practically grasp what kind of thoughts about me were running through his head.

‘He probably wants to grab me and kill me.’

Because I annoyed him to death.

But this wasn’t just anywhere—it was the Spherom party venue. He couldn’t cause a scene here, could he?

So he couldn’t do anything.

All he could do was glare at me.

‘Ah, this is so refreshing.’

To an outsider, I probably looked like a young lady whose future had darkened after being marked by the Crown Prince.

But my mood was soaring through the sky.

Come to think of it, this feeling was familiar.

The feeling of getting revenge for childhood grudges.

Yes—this was payback for arbitrarily changing my diet, and for dragging me outside into the sunlight when I said I didn’t want to go!

Our eyes met again, and Pession scowled. I burst out laughing.

Who knew watching someone hate you could be this fun?

Master, your disciple has discovered a whole new world today.

“Why are you grinning like that? What’s so funny?”

“Pession can’t take his eyes off me.”

“Well… that’s true.”

“That’s what makes it so funny.”

As I chuckled, the twins looked at me with expressions that plainly said they didn’t understand at all.

“Doesn’t it hurt your feelings?”

“Hmm. This much is fine.”

Compared to what I’d gotten from my mother, anyway.

“…….”

But… why did the twins look so uneasy?

 

 

****

 

 

 

The Founding Festival party held at the Spherom estate was always packed with people.

Since Spherom had a firm grip on Albrecht’s commercial world, their standards for invitations were notoriously strict.

Regardless of status, among those connected to House Spherom, guests were selected based on assets, business vision, and potential—those deemed most important were invited.

This selection process became known as the “Spherom Standard,” and every year it appeared in the Albrecht Times’ business section under the title “This Year’s Key Figures.”

It was something like a general assembly of Albrecht’s economic elite.

However, there was a presence that completely crushed such gossip.

“Why on earth is His Highness the Crown Prince so angry?”

“No idea. Is he perhaps on bad terms with the Spherom heirs…?”

At this precious gathering, neither those desperately trying to seize an opportunity nor those aiming to solidify existing connections dared approach Pession—the man considered the future of the nation.

Everyone knew.

‘If you get on his bad side today, you’re dead.’

If the displeased Crown Prince happened to take notice of you, the party would instantly turn into a funeral.

The very person single-handedly shredding the festive atmosphere, Pession himself, was in fact staring intently at just one person.

And that person—Arellin—seemed utterly unaware of the killing intent in the air, smiling brightly without pause.

The Spherom twins were the hosts, responsible for keeping the party lively, yet Ciel and Noel did nothing but watch this silent battle of wills unfold before them.

‘How does that look like the behavior of someone who doesn’t recognize her?’

Even when Ciel casually placed a hand on Arellin’s shoulder, Pession’s eyebrow twitched.

Arellin didn’t seem to notice this much, but…

As Ciel made an expression somewhere between wanting to laugh and wanting to cry, Noel—still watching Pession—asked,

“When are Shirua or Therion coming?”

“Therion said he’s not coming, and Shirua… yeah, when is she coming?”

“Should we go stop Pession ourselves?”

Ciel, after taking another look at Pession, shook his head.

“Leave it. That’d just be pouring oil on a burning house.”

“…Yeah.”

Just then, Arellin suddenly rubbed her stomach.

“I’m hungry. Go get me some of that.”

“Why don’t you go yourself?”

“Because if I move now, it’ll feel like I’m losing.”

“Arellin, you really are… impressive.”

“What?”

“Nothing. Keep doing what you’re doing. If you’re at it, it’s better to win.”

Ciel obediently left his seat and went to fetch food as Arellin asked. As he did, his eyes met Pession’s—and Ciel flashed him a grin.

Pession’s expression twisted again.

“Good thing today’s party isn’t a banquet or a tea party.”

“Yeah… seriously.”

Pession’s fiery reaction wasn’t entirely unexpected.

What was unexpected—even to the twins—was that instead of snapping and leaving, or approaching to say something, Pession did nothing at all.

He just stood there and glared.

“What is it?”

There was definitely something… something there.

The twins shifted their gaze. Unlike Pession, who was turning the party into a funeral, there was one person who looked happier than anyone else.

“What are you two whispering about?”

“Hmm.”

In the end, Noel spoke first.

“Rellel, are you really sure His Highness doesn’t recognize you?”

“You’re calling me by a weird name again. I told you, he doesn’t.”

Arellin smiled brightly.

Even so, Noel found himself thinking, She really smiles so easily now.
When she was little, she almost never smiled—it had been hard just to see her smile once.

She said nothing had changed, but the twins could feel the difference.

The Arellin they remembered as a child hadn’t smiled this much, hadn’t been this bright or full of life.

‘She’s still indifferent to things she doesn’t care about, though…’

Did she truly not know?
Did she not care?
Or was she pretending not to know?

Watching Arellin miss things even when they were practically spelled out for her, Noel puffed his lips and grew sullen.

Pession’s gaze remained fixed on Arellin—but Arellin, too, only saw one person.

Watching her look at someone with eyes so full of affection they seemed to drip with honey made his chest ache, even from the side.

There was no way to wedge oneself into that heart.

He’d known that already.

“Noel, I guess the plan to comfort a heartbroken Arellin and take Pession’s place has officially failed.”

“Yeah. I told you it was a bad idea.”

“You said it was a classic. Who would’ve thought Arellin would be this strong?”

Ciel swallowed a groan.

Seeing Arellin laugh happily—rather than getting hurt by Pession’s sharp glare—made the twins sigh.

“What kind of fifteen years did she even live through?”

 

 

 

****

 

 

 

Pession’s eyebrow twitched upward.

The woman chatting with Ciel burst into laughter again.

What on earth was so funny?

The twins didn’t seem interested in enjoying the party at all. They half-heartedly fulfilled their duties as hosts, exchanged perfunctory greetings—and then stuck to the woman’s side, refusing to leave her.

And that, for some reason, scraped painfully against Pession’s nerves.

“Then, see you next time.”

When she’d said that at the Domel Auction and disappeared, should he have said they’d never meet again?

Or was it a mistake to chase after her that day, when she vanished the moment he looked away?

He’d only followed her because it bothered him—because he didn’t know what scheme she might be plotting elsewhere.

Not because he cared.
Not because he was worried.

And yet—despite how rudely he’d glared at her, despite his scowl—that pale face smiling at him lingered in his mind.

“Damn it.”

Pession’s mood plunged.

It sank so low he couldn’t even put it into words.

“And now even the twins…?”

See you next time—was this what she meant?

The way the twins clung to her so happily was infuriating.

What had she said to them? What had she done to hook them like that?

He tried to think it through, but years of insomnia and exhaustion dulled his mind.

All he could see—

Was the twins still glued to her side.

And that fake.

Damn it.
How long were those three planning to stick together?