Wrong Marriage and Sweet Love

Clint lay heavily on Joyce, both of them completely relaxed. Joyce used her last bit of strength to push him off. “Don’t press on me, I can hardly breathe.”

Clint was already injured and now lay on the ground, unwilling to move. Joyce glanced at him; his arms and hands were covered with various degrees of scrapes from flying debris. Though he lay on his back, she could imagine his back was in no better condition. In contrast, she was unharmed.NôvelDrama.Org holds © this.

Joyce frowned. “Why did you shield me? Don’t think I’ll be grateful for this.”

Clint, pale and weak, managed a faint smile. “How can a sharpshooter’s hand be injured?”

Joyce was stunned. She hadn’t considered that protecting her hands might have been his intention.

There was no time to think further. A Black Hawk helicopter hovered overhead. The door opened and two people descended on ropes.

Joyce immediately saw Luther, dressed in black, the first to leap down from the rope. Though they had been apart only a few hours since last night, it felt like an eternity filled with life-and-death moments. Without thinking, she ran to him and threw herself into his arms before he could even steady himself.

She held him tightly, unwilling to let go. Luther almost lost his balance but managed to stand firm after taking a step back. He quickly removed the rope from his body and held her securely. Her warmth reassured him, calming his restless heart.

No words were needed; their silence spoke volumes.

After a moment, Luther pulled back slightly to look her over anxiously. “Are you hurt anywhere? Are you okay?”

She looked disheveled, her clothes barely covering her and bloodstains visible, though mostly from wiping away rather than injuries.

Joyce shook her head. “No, I’m not hurt.”

Luther breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m sorry I was late. Thank goodness you held on.”

Joyce’s voice choked with emotion. “I knew you’d come for me, so I kept going. I missed you so much.”

She hugged him tighter, feeling increasingly dependent on him and unwilling to be apart for even a second. Her heart pounded wildly with joy, excitement, lingering fear, and relief.

Overwhelmed by emotion, she stood on tiptoe and kissed his chin, feeling the rough stubble prickling her lips-a sign of his anxiety for her safety.

“I love you,” she whispered.

Luther couldn’t hold back any longer and kissed her deeply under the morning light and gentle breeze, ignoring everyone else around them.

Her lips were cold; his were burning hot as he transferred warmth to her while kissing her and wrapping her in his jacket to cover her body.

Joyce nestled in his jacket, her white arms wrapped tightly around his neck as the helicopter’s rotor blades whipped up a fierce wind that sent grass clippings swirling around them.

They were oblivious to everything but each other, lost in their kiss as if they were the only two people left in the world.

The scene was breathtakingly beautiful.

Clint struggled to stand up, nearly exhausted. When he finally steadied himself, he saw the intimate scene before him-Luther and Joyce locked in a passionate embrace.

His eyes turned cold with barely concealed pain. They knew he was there but didn’t care about showing their affection openly in front of him.

Moreover, Clint was surprised that Luther had arrived in Rohomes without his knowledge; clearly, Luther had been in contact with Joyce all along.

He heard Joyce’s earlier declaration of love loud and clear.

She didn’t even want his jacket; now she acted as if he didn’t exist.

“Ugh,” Clint coughed repeatedly from the rotor wind, nearly collapsing from physical pain that paled compared to his emotional agony.

He could barely stand.

He truly wanted to protect her, yet she wouldn’t even spare him a glance.

The second person descending from the helicopter was Watanabe.

Seeing Clint about to fall, Watanabe rushed forward to support him. “Your Highness, I apologize for being late.”

Clint leaned on Watanabe but kept his eyes fixed on Joyce and Luther, clenching his fists involuntarily.

Watanabe exclaimed in shock, “Your Highness! You’ve been shot in the arm!”

Surveying Clint’s injuries further darkened Watanabe’s expression. “Your Highness has multiple scrapes from debris as well. I’m sorry; it’s my fault for not controlling the helicopter’s fire better earlier. I’ll take you to the hospital immediately.”

Watanabe couldn’t help but wonder why Joyce seemed unscathed while Clint bore so many injuries-arms and back covered with wounds.

Clint nodded slightly.

Watanabe supported Clint towards the rope ladder while reporting, “Your Highness, I took the liberty of temporarily allying with the Imperial Household Agency against the Yoshikawa family without your authorization. Please punish me as you see fit.”

Clint said nothing as they walked; his eyes remained on Joyce and Luther who had stopped kissing but stood close together with Luther gently caressing Joyce’s cheek as they talked intimately-oblivious to anyone else-making Joyce smile tenderly with deep affection that pierced Clint’s heart like needles.

He knew they were married with four children; he’d seen their deep love before but somehow this moment felt more painful than seeing them together in Khebury.

“Ugh,” he coughed violently again until blood spurted from his mouth onto the ground below.

Watanabe panicked. “Your Highness! What’s wrong?”

With a hateful glance at Joyce Watanabe asked coldly “Your Highness now is an opportune moment shall I kill them both or just him?”

Watanabe’s meaning was clear: if Clint gave the order he would kill either or both right now while they were defenseless.