The Problem Is, My Ex-Boyfriend and I Are Both Dating Other People - Chapter 6

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Episode 6

I snapped awake as though from a dream, stumbling backward with a sharp intake of breath.
Reinhardt’s gaze followed my retreat.
I pressed my palm against my chest, where my heart hammered like a trapped bird, oblivious to the weight of his attention. What was I doing?
‘Even if there hasn’t been a proper scandal in high society for the past few years, four consecutive front pages is pushing it.’
I had to contain this situation, whatever it took. Seized by that thought alone, I managed to dredge up what Reinhardt had said.
“A promise! A promise must be kept! If you tell me a convenient time, I’ll send an Invitation Card to the Winston Earl’s Residence.”
I let go. I did, I swear! I even stepped back! So why does he keep staring at my hand like that? Stop looking and just play along, would you?
Either my desperate prayer worked, or Reinhardt simply exhaled—a sound he’d been holding back—before answering in that measured tone.
“The Duke made that promise in front of everyone here, so it must be kept.”
“I will keep it.”
Now I was beginning to feel wronged. When exactly had I ever broken a promise?
“I wonder if that deserves reconsideration—whether the Duke is truly someone to be trusted.”
“You don’t trust me?”
“Not quite that far. But the fact that you still speak only of having tea together, without naming an actual date, does cast some doubt.”
Do you really want to sit across from me and drink tea? Truly? Even though you still dislike me so much?
“Once you tell me what day suits you, Earl, I’ll make the time work.”
I forced a smile to match that sentiment, but my lips trembled with strain. His crimson gaze held me for a moment, and then—a soft laugh escaped him. He stepped forward, closing the distance I’d just created.
The backs of our hands brushed. Like an accident.
I had to fight every instinct not to flinch at the unintended contact. As if mocking my clumsy attempt to withdraw naturally, Reinhardt’s hand leaned slowly onto mine.
Or perhaps that too was just my imagination.
‘Why?’
When I lifted my head, our eyes met instantly. I swallowed hard, unable to read a thing in that opaque gaze.
What are you thinking right now, Reinhardt?
“Then.”
Reinhardt leaned forward with deliberate courtesy. Surrounded by eyes glittering with curiosity, I could only watch him—proper and impertinent all at once.
“Should I… trust you… one more time?”
His voice dropped to a whisper against my ear, rough and low.
Trust me with what?
The question died on my tongue the moment our eyes locked.
I knew it instinctively—if I asked what he meant, that man would despise me without hesitation. And my silence, he would take as consent.
For the first time, the faintest smile crossed Reinhardt’s lips.
“Then let it be today.”
“What—”
“I happen to have time this afternoon, so I shall accept the Duke’s invitation.”
Isn’t this far too sudden, even if I did agree to find a time that works for both of us?
I stared at him blankly, and he pressed his advantage.
“You’re not thinking of running away, I trust, Duke.”
Ten years may transform mountains and rivers, but doesn’t a person change too much in that span?
And he really wants to have tea with me? Sit across from each other? What does he mean to discuss?
For the first time, something like pleasure flickered across Reinhardt’s expression as he looked at me.
Everyone held their breath, waiting for my answer. My lips parted in that moment of being driven to the cliff’s edge.
“I came out here because you weren’t showing up, and what on earth is this chaos?”
An irritated, familiar voice called from behind me.
Damon Filliard.
The Empire’s Crown Prince had arrived in casual disarray, putting the final brushstroke on this disaster.
“You sent an Invitation Card saying you’d visit immediately, so I wondered what had happened, but…”
Damon’s head tilted quizzically as his sentence trailed off.
“You haven’t decided to pick up the stray dog you threw away long ago, have you, Bella?”
“I’ve never kept a dog, nor discarded one, nor picked one up, Your Highness.”
“Ha-ha-ha! Oh no. My mistake, Bella. I always forget you struggle with metaphorical expressions.”
As if I hadn’t understood perfectly.
I laughed awkwardly. Fortunately, Damon didn’t press the issue of Reinhardt any further. Still, the way he kept stealing glances suggested he had his mind on it.
‘That’s really unexpected.’
Why? Because I never knew this man was capable of reading a situation.
Damon Filliard.
Twenty-eight this year, my age exactly—a crown prince whose only possession was a gleaming face, with nothing to recommend him, whether in skill or character. His sole asset was being the Empire’s sole heir?
‘The sole heir—was, anyway.’
The princess everyone thought dead had returned, which made that past tense correct.
In any case, Damon was arrogant and conceited, just as befitted a crown prince who had lived his entire life without rivals. As the sole heir, he had no one to answer to—a living specimen of the spoiled recklessness that comes from childhood unchecked.
Even though it was meant to be a mutually beneficial contract, the fact that he didn’t hesitate to be seen meeting with a courtesan while openly calling her his lover told me everything. What kind of wreck must he be for the Emperor to refuse him the throne despite his long illness?
‘Still, all the worthwhile nobility have sided with Damon, when it comes down to it.’
Since my father’s death, the rigid hierarchy had begun to shift. The Marquess of Frost, who had coveted my father’s position, had been pushed aside by the Earl of Kindle and was now grinding his teeth over it.
But that wasn’t what mattered now. I glanced subtly around the room.
How on earth was I going to manage this awkward situation?
‘Setting aside Damon and Reinhardt…’
Why was the Crown Princess walking around so familiarly with Damon?
Sasha, whose hands had been clasped together, must have sensed the strange tension in the air. She suddenly lifted her head, and something like resolve flickered across her eyes.
No. Wait. This doesn’t seem like a good idea at all….
“It’s wonderful to have all the people I care about gathered here!”
Oh no.
Why are bad premonitions always right? Sasha, who had never navigated high society, seemed oblivious to what mistake she’d just made.
If this had been a salon or a ball, the matrons and ladies would have laughed her to scorn. The gentlemen would have offered awkward smiles or averted their eyes.
‘Damon would…. Of course.’
I was just about to help Sasha out of this moment.
“Yes, quite so.”
Reinhardt answered Sasha’s words. My spirits sank instantly.
“That’s right, Sasha. I’m always glad to see you.”
True to his words, Reinhardt smiled kindly at Sasha.
Thump.
‘No, this won’t do.’
My foolish heart, having dared to hope without understanding its place, now tormented me mercilessly as if to say ‘look what you’ve done.’
I was only now beginning to grasp just how absurd my delusion had been in that corridor moments ago.
This was what Reinhardt looked like when he was kind—that tender expression there before me. Not the cold, impassive face he’d worn in the corridor. So I mustn’t deceive myself.
‘I’m the one who walked away. Don’t expect anything.’
Damon, who had been crossing his arms while watching us both in turn, spoke with a petulant expression.
“Hmph. I’m not pleased about it at all. Seeing Bella and that man standing near each other irritates me to no end.”
“My goodness! How extraordinary! Was the Duke and Reinhardt seeing each other at one point?”
“What? You didn’t know?”
“Well, no one told me.”
“It’s been days since you came back to the Capital. Haven’t you made a single friend in all that time?”
Good heavens.
Damon’s rudeness was like a bucket of cold water poured over my head, snapping me back to reality.
What in the world was this lunatic saying? I quickly stepped between them, desperate to salvage the situation.
“It’s just that Damon has been so considerate of the Crown Princess. He was saying how deeply he cares, having not seen his cousin in so long. Isn’t that right, Damon?”
At my question, Damon raised one eyebrow. The look of ‘what nonsense are you spouting?’
But the nonsense came from you, not me.
“And Damon, the Crown Princess has many friends. Take the Earl of Winston here—he’s one of her closest friends.”
“…A ‘friend’ between a man and a woman.”
Don’t say it with that meaningful tone, implying something else entirely.
Damon let out a soft laugh and then nodded an apology to Sasha.
“I’m sorry. I had no idea you had such wonderful friends.”
“Oh, no. I just learned something I didn’t know myself.”
Sasha’s face flushed red and she hesitated. I had an ominous feeling about where this was going.
It seemed safer to steer away from the question of who was friends with whom and onto something else.
‘But what should I say?’
While I was pondering this, Sasha gathered her courage again and spoke first.
“So the Duke and Reinhardt were dating?”
The way her eyes were gleaming made me think ‘gathered her courage’ was the wrong phrase—it was more like ‘getting interested in the gossip.’
“It was a long time ago.”
I answered reflexively, then immediately, a sinking feeling washed over me as I studied Reinhardt’s expression.
‘This… I may have… misspoken….’
“About five or six years ago.”
I’d been stealing glances elsewhere, but the moment I heard Reinhardt’s answer, I jerked my head around. Reinhardt, who was sitting slightly askew at the end of the sofa, twisted his lips slightly in response to my gaze.
As if he were asking ‘what?’ or ‘what’s wrong?’
‘What on earth is he doing?’
Fine, if he hates me, so be it. But why did he keep cutting the time we’d been apart in half? I couldn’t understand it at all.
As if saying it would somehow actually make that time shorter. Was this, then, the kind of petty quarrel I’d heard so much about?

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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