The Male Lead Is Obsessed With My Health Chapter 217

As night deepened, the sound of the wind and chirping insects filled the air.

The music from the mansion, the lively chatter of people—all of it blended together and felt distant.

In a world that felt completely cut off, as if only the two of us remained, I looked up at the man who had stepped decisively toward me.

“Aren’t you the one who came looking for me, Your Highness?”

“Me?”

Pession let out a dry laugh.

“Why do you think I was looking for you?”

“Because I’m your objective.”

“Hmm.”

That wasn’t wrong, exactly.

Still, hearing it put that way made it sound rather impure.

Pession’s gaze settled on me—brushing past my eyes, sliding down my nose and cheeks, lingering on my lips before returning to my eyes.

“You came to try and seduce me, didn’t you?”

Wrong.

You were the one who tempted me first, you know.

“If I seduce you, will you fall for it?”

“Do you really think I would?”

His brows drew together slightly, irritation plain on his face. Even that expression looked like a work of art on his finely sculpted features.

So close that his eyes were partly hidden by his lashes, I couldn’t read his thoughts—but somehow, it felt like if I just reached out, I could grasp his heart in my hand.

‘But I can’t say something like that.’

The tingling sensation was new.

This feels strange.

In a garden lit only by moonlight, no magic lamps in sight, Pession stood with the moon at his back, deep shadows cast across his face.

I felt like I’d seen a scene like this before, somewhere.

“…It’s irritating.”

Pession twisted his expression and roughly ran a hand through his hair. I was momentarily captivated by the way his silver hair fell into disarray, then snapped back to my senses.

“If your goal was to make me pay attention to you, then congratulations. You succeeded.”

The flat, emotionless tone of his voice felt unfamiliar.

“How did you even manage to win over the twins?”

I didn’t win them over at all.

The twins dragged me here on their own. Of course, I did expect to meet Pession, but still…

Pession muttered in a weary voice.

“No matter what you do, I’m never going to fall for it. So stop wasting your effort.”

You look like you’re already halfway there, though.

Otherwise, why bother issuing a warning like this?

It felt less like a warning to me, and more like a vow to himself.

“So stop now. And drop that face of yours, too.”

“This really is my face.”

“Do you expect me to believe that?”

“What kind of life have you lived?”

At his eyes full of distrust, a sigh slipped out of me before I could stop it.

Enduring his openly wary gaze, I noticed how dark the circles under Pession’s eyes looked tonight. Before I realized it, my hand reached toward his cheek.

“Do you sleep properly?”

Smack—.

Before I could even touch him, Pession swatted my hand away. My palm burned where it had been struck.

That hurt.

“Don’t touch me.”

Pession spat coldly as he stepped back.

My hand was the one that hurt, so why did Pession look like a frightened little animal? Is this what they call love goggles?

‘He’s really troublesome, and takes so much effort.’

Then why doesn’t it feel annoying at all? Because Pession used to look after me like this when we were young? Or because I like him that much?

“Make sure you eat your meals on time, and get plenty of sleep.”

I never thought I’d end up nagging Pession like this.

“You move around too much, Your Highness, so don’t overdo your training. It’d be better to spend more time reading instead. You like people and get lonely easily, so don’t stay alone—always be with someone you can truly trust.”

As the nagging continued without pause, Pession now looked utterly dumbfounded.

I have no idea how to break down this towering wall of distrust.

All I can do is stay by his side and keep knocking, asking him to open his heart.

“Did you even listen to my warning just now?”

“I did.”

“And you’re still acting like this?”

Even as a killing aura pressed down on me, my mind was filled with entirely different thoughts.

Ah, honestly. What happened to our Pession to make him like this?

Is it really my fault?

“Do you want to become Empress that badly?”

I couldn’t even tell where things had gone wrong.

“I don’t want to become Empress at all.”

I knew this answer would sound like a lie to him—but I couldn’t keep myself from saying it.

It made me unbearably sad.

Even if, in a situation like this, I revealed myself and said, ‘I’m back, surprise,’ I didn’t know whether Pession could ever return to how he used to be.

No—probably not.

Seeing in him the image of my younger self, who trusted no one and leaned on no one, made my chest ache.

What should I do for my feelings to reach you?

“I just like you, Your Highness.”

You, who always looked only at me. You, who kept smiling and coming closer no matter how much I pushed you away. You, who liked me so much that even I couldn’t understand why.

“I like you, Pession.”

I didn’t like the Crown Prince of Albrecht—I liked the person named Pession.

You were clear, unblemished, like sunlight.

Well… you don’t seem to be that way anymore.

But this version of you isn’t so bad either.

“Ha.”

Pession faltered, then twisted his face into a scowl. Even under that gaze full of distrust, I couldn’t help but smile.

“So.”

Ah, Pession is…

“I hope you’re happy.”

The murderous tension vanished, and Pession froze.

Smiling gently, I took in Pession—who looked far more pained and exhausted than I was, even as he stepped back.

“I hope you’re happy, Pession.”

In that moment, it felt like I heard the sound of a crack forming in an ironclad wall.

 

 

 

****

 

 

 

“Hmm? What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

Sirua tilted her head as she looked at the returning Pession.

Without answering, Pession grabbed the wine Sirua had brought and drank straight from the bottle.

“Hey, that’s my wine—!”

Sirua seemed to be saying something, but he couldn’t hear her. His head was in chaos. The thoughts he had barely managed to suppress all burst out at once, throwing even his heart into turmoil.

I hope you’re happy, Pession.

Crack—
The wine bottle shattered in Pession’s hand.

Sirua was about to scold him, but when she saw that, she fell silent.

“That was expensive wine…”

Even at Sirua’s sorrowful mutter, Pession showed no reaction.

He just… needed more alcohol.

“Liquor…”

Strong, high-proof liquor.

A servant of the Spherom estate brought more, but no matter how much he drank straight from the bottle, his mind didn’t grow hazy—if anything, it felt clearer.

“Did something happen?”

He heard Sirua asking, but Pession ignored her.

He couldn’t answer.

Because when those eyes, brimming with gentle affection, smiled at him, he felt all the defenses he had painstakingly built go dull at once.

Pession rubbed his face dryly.

The scene from earlier still wouldn’t leave his mind.

Damn it—what did she do to me?

“What really happened?”

“Be quiet.”

“I can’t even ask because I’m curious?”

Sirua seemed to be saying something beside him, but Pession was in no state to hold a conversation.

Confusion piled upon confusion, until Pession no longer knew what he was feeling.

It felt horrible, and sad—and…

Nostalgic, somehow.

He didn’t know what it was about that woman that had touched him so deeply, but in that moment, Pession felt that he absolutely couldn’t stay there any longer.

So he hurriedly left the scene.

The right thing would have been to punish someone who dared to call his name so casually.

“Stop drinking. You didn’t even like alcohol that much to begin with.”

“……”

Even as he kept pouring burning liquor down his throat, his mind stubbornly clung to that earlier moment.

I like you, Your Highness.
I hope you’re happy, Your Highness.

He wanted to erase the voice buzzing in his ears.

“Am I going crazy?”

Pession ran a hand through his hair, suffering. Watching him, Sirua spoke up.

“You were already kind of crazy. You were crazy about Arellin, remember?”

“Don’t talk nonsense.”

“Why? Did something really happen with that woman?”

Eyes full of playful curiosity turned toward him, but Pession didn’t even have the energy to care.

A fleeting, inexplicable sense of déjà vu swept over him.

And overlapping with that woman—who was surely an impostor—was the image of Arellin……

“…Damn it.”

Even the sleepless nights weren’t this painful. Not even when he had lived every moment longing for Arellin, clinging to the past, dreaming only of her and wanting to go to her side, yet unable to die—never had he been filled with this much confusion and pain.

He almost wished he’d just go insane.

“What really happened?”

“Shut up.”

“Don’t you know that just makes me more curious?!”

Ignoring Sirua’s chatter beside him, Pession kept drinking.

It’s impossible.

There’s no way.

There’s no way he ever, even for a moment, overlapped that woman with Arellin.

“Ah, damn it all……”