Ch. 162 Can’t Stand It
by AfuhfuihgsChapter 162: Can’t Stand It
“What do you know?”
—Thud, thud, thud.
She held it in. Suppressed it. Erased the scene that rose in her mind.
“Ah! Not that I’m insulting Riley! Just a general comment. Ahaha…”
Meanwhile, Natasha acted as if she’d misspoken, waving her hands cheerfully in an attempt to smooth things over. Her demeanor was entirely different from Sugar, whose expression had frozen solid.
‘Psycho. Look at that murderous aura.’
“Still… you never know.”
The muttering that followed was blatantly obvious.
Sugar didn’t respond.
Only the clinking of ice echoed across the table. Suffocating silence. Patrons shifting seats uneasily.
For a while, neither spoke.
Natasha smirked faintly, thinking the fight was over.
“Heehee…”
Then—out of nowhere—Sugar, who had been quiet the whole time, let out a laugh.
“Wow!”
And then, of course, she started making a scene.
“Natasha, you must know men so well! Amazing! I’ve never even had a romantic experience…!”
Though she was clearly speaking to the knight, her tone sounded as if she were addressing someone else—loud enough for everyone to hear.
“Tell me your stories later, okay?”
An infuriating attack.
Natasha had no romantic experience. But if she corrected herself now, it’d sound like: ‘Oh, so you talk big about knowing men but have zero experience?’—wounding her pride.
Yet if she let it slide, she’d be seen as some experienced woman. She hated that even more.
‘…I’ll say I heard it from an older sister I know.’
A decent solution.
But.
That wasn’t the point.
She should’ve sensed the oddity in Sugar’s tone. She should’ve stopped those words from being spoken at all.
The moment she opened her mouth—her vision caught a blond youth in a white hospital gown, sipping orange juice.
“…!”
“What are you guys doing…?”
“Ah, Riley!”
Sugar, who had sensed his presence through mana long ago, pretended to notice him just now.
“Are you allowed out of your room? Feeling better?”
After giving him the cold shoulder just yesterday, why’s she acting so sweet now?—Riley eyed his suspiciously affectionate partner with displeasure.
Meanwhile, Natasha shot up from her chair.
Both pairs of eyes turned toward the knight.
“I—I also…”
“?”
“Ugh…! I don’t have experience either! I—I heard it from an older sister!!”
Tears welling in her eyes, she glared at Sugar before bolting away.
Only the sweet scent of perfume lingered behind.
.
.
.
“Hah… haah…”
A girl making a fuss about knowing men and the boy who overheard it.
The sheer humiliation of correcting herself in front of him—
“She definitely knew he was coming… Definitely…!”
The knight hid behind the building’s outer wall, seething as she gasped for air. Her face burned, sweat dripping.
Even during her trainee days, she’d never run away like this.
“So annoying…”
That girl—acting all innocent with those wide, sparkling eyes, casually needling people like a damn fox.
Petite. Flat-chested. Only her thighs had any meat. Her face was… passable, at least.
Natasha still believed she had more charm as a woman. But that family-like childhood friend act made her blood boil.
“Just because she met him first…”
Gnashing her teeth in frustration, a growl escaped her.
***************
“Why pick a fight? Why? Every time you radiate bloodlust, my heart goes cold.”
“Me? She started it! And what, you think I’d actually stab someone?”
The reason she hadn’t drawn her blade was simple.
If his friend disappeared—no, no. If his friend got hurt, Riley would be disappointed.
She didn’t want to be seen as someone with no patience or responsibility.
It was a matter of pride.
So when she provoked him, Riley reached to pinch her cheek—but she dodged with a quick turn of her head.
Please don’t think I’m childish. Even though she was just as petty, jealous over trivial things.
‘She’s determined to paint me as the crazy, clingy one.’
Scowling, she recalled that absurd remark from earlier.
“But… Sugar. About men—once they get a girlfriend, they’ll ditch everything for her. Family included.”
‘Hmph… How desperate.’
She’d give her credit for tenacity, at least.
But—trust Riley, not that bitch’s words.
He was the one who swore to keep Sugar by his side, no matter what. Across lands, skies, seas, underground, even in dreams. Even if Sugar broke, he’d never let go.
‘You’re not even comparable. No—putting you on the same level is absurd.’
Sugar scoffed inwardly, ignoring the tightening in her chest.
An indescribable unease.
Irritation.
Why? What was there to dwell on after hearing such nonsense?
Just trust him. The man who said “I want to be with you”—the one who kept his childhood promise to take her to Steele.
Yet doubt crept in. An old thought, resurfacing:
How long will you stay with me? How long will you cling to me? There’s no mark of you on my neck anymore. It’s so lonely.
Even together, she felt hollow.
Chasing something invisible, fearing she’d fall—and if Riley, who always reached out, turned his back this time, she might never get up.
It wasn’t just words that haunted her.
It was jealousy for the time lost.
Sugar didn’t know the Riley of the outside world. Their shared years were few—just vivid memories of ages 11 and 12, fleeting reunions during the Festival of Descent.
She bit her lip. Why, when he’s so precious, did we have so little time?
Even if they stayed together now, the past wouldn’t return.
The 13-year-old Riley, 14, 15, 16, 17—every version should’ve belonged to her.
This resentment wasn’t new. That knight’s words had struck a nerve before:
“Crossing mountains, rivers, camping under the stars… Remember when we dried each other’s clothes in the jungle rain?”
A woman who knew a Riley Sugar didn’t.
Unbearable.
Her emotions darkened.
Distrust festered—not just toward the knight, but herself. Was she truly so weak-willed?
Crushed by guilt, she stifled her jealousy.
As family. As the one he saved.
She’d always done this: burying feelings under duty.
‘I don’t ask for much. Just—’
—Don’t leave me.
‘Be happy, do what you love—’
—I chose you.
‘…Okay, one wish. Stay with me.’
—Tch.
A realization struck.
This wasn’t just her flaw.
‘What if… you’re the problem?’
She hid her greed, yet he kept indulging her.
‘Aren’t you the worst, enchanting me like this?’
“…Can’t take it anymore.”
A single drop spilled over.
She inhaled.
The Holy City’s magic-laced air filled her lungs. Her pounding heart steadied—absurdly calm.
Like getting caught stealing berries as a kid. A childish, guilty thrill.
‘After all this suffering, I deserve a bite.’
“Huh? What’d you say?”
“N-Nothing. Hey, Riley… Free tonight?”
“…Yeah, but why the mood swings?”
“I’ll behave. Sorry. I need to talk. And…”
This is embarrassing.
‘But you made me spill my heart. So listen—no laughing.’
She beckoned him closer, playful as a forest sprite. Riley hesitated (was it the trial’s aftermath?) but leaned in.
Then, whispering—no lies this time, just shameful honesty:
A woman’s temptation.
A long-held, humiliating wish.
“…Mark me.”
LegoMyEggo
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