Chapter 30: Pink Fantasy

It seemed that the Crown Prince had indeed applied a considerable amount of pressure.

To her, this was a piece of good news.

Freya finally rushed through the gates that symbolized the boundary of the Imperial Palace. The cold night wind hit her face, causing her overheated mind to clear for a brief moment.

The carriage of House Dale was still waiting in the designated area. The driver, Old John, was dozing against the carriage shaft. Hearing the hurried footsteps, he looked up in surprise.

“Miss? How could you…”

Old John was startled to see Freya as pale as paper, her hair disheveled, and traces of panic lingering in her eyes.

“Go back! Return to House Dale immediately!”

Freya ordered while panting, her voice still unsteady.

“Yes! Yes!”

Old John did not dare to ask more and hurriedly lifted the carriage curtain.

Freya practically scrambled into the carriage on all fours, collapsing onto the soft seat. Her body continued to tremble uncontrollably.

Lyra followed closely behind and sat next to her. Seeing Freya in such a state, she felt both distressed and helpless.

“Boss… Boss, how are you? Where does it feel uncomfortable? Do you want…”

Lyra wanted to touch her but feared startling her. Her hand reached out halfway before shrinking back.

The carriage began to move, and a slight jolting sensation followed.

Having left that suffocating palace, the relatively closed and safe space allowed Freya’s nerves, which had been stretched to the limit, to finally begin to relax bit by bit.

She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths, forcing herself to calm down.

The sense of fear receded slowly like a tide, leaving behind cold exhaustion and lingering dread.

She had actually… lost her composure to that extent in front of Ross!

That scream, that panicked escape… it undoubtedly exposed the fear and abnormality hidden deep within her heart.

‘What will Ross think? Will he become suspicious? Will this make future plans more difficult?’

‘And Irina… in that brief confrontation just now, the hatred in my eyes likely revealed too much as well.’

‘That woman will certainly seize this opportunity…’

“I am fine now, Lyra.”

Freya finally spoke. Her voice was hoarse, but it had regained its basic stability.

She opened her eyes. Her gaze was weary, but she had found her focus again.

“I just… suddenly felt a bit unwell and scared you.”

Lyra stared at her intensely and shook her head. Her red eyes held no fear, only deep worry and determination.

“Boss, do not lie to me. That Blondie just now… that Crown Prince, what did he do to you? Did he bully you?” She clenched her fists, her knuckles turning white.

“If he dared to touch even one finger of yours, I…”

“He did not.”

Freya interrupted her, rubbing her aching temples.

“He only… mentioned some things that I could not accept. It was just me… recalling some bad memories and losing control for a moment.”

She chose to explain selectively. She could not, and had no way to, describe to Lyra the shadow of death that spanned across two lifetimes.

Lyra fell silent for a moment. She clearly did not believe that merely “mentioning things” would make Freya fearful to such an extent.

However, she saw that Freya did not want to say more, so she did not press further. Instead, she moved a little closer to Freya, using the warmth of her own body to transmit a sliver of clumsy comfort through their clothes.

“Boss, no matter what happens, I will protect you,” she said in a low voice, her tone more serious than ever before. “If anyone makes you suffer, I will make them suffer more.”

Freya turned her head to look at Lyra’s red eyes, which remained strikingly bright in the dim carriage.

Inside them, there was no calculation, no hypocrisy — only pure concern and a near-stubborn loyalty.

This “trouble” she had brought back from the Black Market, this girl full of mysteries, had now become the only piece of driftwood she could briefly lean on in her turbulent world.

The cold corners of her heart seemed to be melted slightly by this clumsy warmth.

“Thank you, Lyra,” Freya said softly, closing her eyes again and leaning against the back of the seat.

The trembling of her body had subsided, but the trauma stirred up in the depths of her soul throbbed with a dull ache.

Tonight’s loss of control was a dangerous signal.

The shadows of her past life were more stubborn than she had imagined, and more likely to break through her defenses at a critical moment.

‘I must be more careful in controlling my emotions, especially when facing Ross and Irina.’

‘At the same time, Ross’s “proposal” tonight, as well as my violent rejection and loss of composure, will inevitably lead to a series of subsequent changes.’

‘The Imperial Family, the Holy Temple, my father… the reactions and next moves of every party require my cautious response.’

The carriage traveled smoothly on the road back to House Dale.

The night was deep, and the lights on both sides of the street gradually became sparse.

Freya’s breathing gradually became even.

—

The carriage moved steadily through the night, the rhythmic jolting acting like a lullaby.

Once her tensed nerves relaxed, extreme fatigue surged like a tide.

At first, Freya forced herself to organize her chaotic thoughts, but her eyelids grew heavier and heavier. Her consciousness gradually blurred, and before she knew it, she actually fell into a deep sleep against the wall of the carriage.

Her breathing became long and steady, though her brow remained slightly furrowed as if she could find no peace even in her dreams.

Lyra remained vigilant at first, her red eyes staring at the street scenery receding rapidly outside the window, her ears pricked to catch any movement in the surroundings.

But gradually, her attention was drawn to the even breathing of the person beside her.

Freya had fallen asleep. Her head nodded slightly with the swaying of the carriage until it finally tilted and rested on Lyra’s shoulder.

Lyra’s body stiffened. She subconsciously wanted to pull away, but seeing the weary sleeping face on Freya’s pale countenance, her movements stopped.

She carefully adjusted her posture, wanting to make Freya lean more comfortably.

A very faint, yet exceptionally clear fragrance drifted into her nose — not the dizzying, heavy perfume from the banquet hall, but a scent unique to Freya. It was a crisp scent that carried a hint of warm sweetness, like violets after the rain mixed with the scent of sun-dried bedding. It was incredibly clean.

Lyra’s heart inexplicably skipped a beat, and then it began to accelerate uncontrollably.

The tips of her ears also started to heat up.

She frowned in confusion, not understanding why she was having such a strange reaction.

She did not like perfume, nor did she like being too close to people, but the scent on Freya…

She felt it was… somewhat pleasant?

She even wanted to move closer and smell it more?

This thought startled her.

She shook her head vigorously, trying to shake off this odd feeling.

‘No, no, Boss definitely would not like this.’

Lyra stole a glance at Freya’s quiet sleeping face. The moonlight filtered through the gaps in the carriage window, casting small shadows on her long eyelashes. Her face, which usually appeared too calm or even cold, now showed a rare softness and fragility.

Lyra’s heart beat even faster, and her ears turned redder.

She hurriedly moved her gaze away, staring at the empty seat opposite her, but the corner of her eye always drifted back to Freya involuntarily.

After thinking it over, she felt that letting Freya lean on her shoulder was still unstable. What if the jolting of the carriage caused her to hit her head?

Therefore, with extremely light and slow movements, she supported Freya’s shoulders and let her slowly slide down until her head rested on Lyra’s lap.

This position was clearly more comfortable. Freya unconsciously nudged a bit in her sleep, her brow smoothed out slightly, and she fell into an even deeper slumber.

Lyra looked down at Freya resting on her lap. Her heart beat like a drum, and her cheeks were burning intensely.

She felt her current state was very strange, but she could not explain why.

She just felt…

‘The Boss looks so beautiful when she is sleeping.’

She had a few less degrees of detachment and coldness than when she was awake, and a little more…

‘A softness that makes one want to protect her.’

This thought caused her heart to soften as well, and she even… liked watching her quietly like this.

However, this brief tranquility, tinged with a subtle flutter, did not last long.

The carriage entered a relatively secluded street, not too far from the Dale Mansion.

Suddenly, several dark shadows blocked the middle of the road without warning. The lanterns they held emitted a piercing light.

Old John hurriedly pulled the reins. The horses neighed, and the carriage jolted violently.

“Who goes there? How dare you block the carriage of House Dale?!”

Old John shouted in shock and anger.

“By order of Earl Elwin, we request Miss Freya to step out of the carriage and follow us back to the Elwin Count’s Manor!”

A coarse and forceful voice rang out, carrying an unquestionable tone of command.

Several burly men wearing the uniforms of the House Elwin guards surrounded the carriage. Their hands were on the hilts of the swords at their waists, their auras fierce. They clearly did not come with good intentions.

“What? The Miss has already left the banquet and is returning to House Dale to rest! If the Count has instructions, he should…”

Old John tried to argue.

“Enough nonsense! The Earl has ordered that we must bring the Miss back tonight! Get out of the way!”

The leader of the guards interrupted impatiently. He took a step forward, actually reaching out to pull the carriage door directly!

The shaking of the carriage and the sudden noise caused Freya to wake up abruptly. She snapped her eyes open, the drowsiness in her light purple eyes instantly replaced by sharp alertness.

She propped herself up and immediately understood the situation outside.

“It is my father’s people…”

She said in a low voice. Her voice still carried the slight hoarseness of just waking up, but she had regained her calm.

“They dare to stop the carriage?!”

Lyra’s temper flared up instantly.

That bit of romantic and panicked emotion from moments ago was thrown to the back of her mind, replaced by anger at being offended and a boiling desire to fight.

Freya’s frightened and composed-losing state in the palace was still fresh in her memory. She had only been asleep for a short while, and someone actually dared to disturb her again?

And it was people sent by that father who always looked coldly at the Boss!

“Boss, sit still and do not move!”

Lyra dropped those words and, without waiting for Freya’s response, suddenly pushed open the carriage door and lunged out like a bolt of red lightning!

“What do you think you are doing?!”

Lyra blocked the front of the carriage, facing those tall guards. Her small body erupted with an astonishing aura.

Under the illumination of the night and the lanterns, her red eyes flickered with a dangerous, cold light, like a provoked beast.

The guard leader clearly did not take a petite-looking “assistant” seriously and let out a sneer.