“First, you are someone entrusted to the nation as a rare magic user. Until your official role is decided, His Majesty assigned me and Raymond to ‘protect’ you. I believe I explained that to you from the start. My personal will has nothing to do with it.”
As his fiancée, I had also been informed of this arrangement. Otherwise, I might have lost patience with him long ago.
“Filia, did you just say something?”
“I-I didn’t say anything!”
The fact that he could seemingly read my thoughts in his "Demon King mode" was terrifying.
“Second, I am not teasing Filia. It’s mischief.”
How is that any different?!
And why was this the part he emphasized?!
“Additionally,” he continued smoothly, “it wasn’t my childhood friend who invited you. His Majesty merely suggested you attend a soirée with others of similar age. The king assigned him to escort you because he is unengaged, nothing more. Even the dress you wore was selected by Raymond’s sister. As much as I dislike aiding an adversary, I must ask—did you ditch him? Poor Raymond is running toward us, pale as a sheet. He deserves an explanation.”
Why did he look at me as he said that last part?
Lady Eliza blinked rapidly at his blunt words, clearly stunned. His Highness frowned slightly.
“Oh, don’t bother trying to understand. It doesn’t concern you. I was merely fulfilling a duty of friendship.”
“And by the way, my dear fiancée,” His Highness continued, turning to me with a mischievous gleam in his eye, “it seems you’re being called the ‘Greedy Princess’ behind your back.”
A ripple went through the surrounding nobles. Many averted their eyes awkwardly, looking distinctly uncomfortable.
“Apparently, the ‘Greedy Princess’ is someone who demands jewels and dresses produced exclusively within the kingdom or her family’s domain. She asks for nothing from anyone but her parents. And yet, it’s said she openly declares how much she desires things once she becomes my wife.”
His finger extended toward me, as though to declare, indeed, this is greed.
His Highness’s fingers brushed lightly against the green necklace adorning my neck.
“This gem, so easily acquired in other nations, is difficult to come by in our country,” he began. “And so, you… had it made. Specifically.”
And then—
“Of course, I know,” he said, a sly smirk spreading across his face. “Who do you think I am? Lucas, was it? The man you’ve been inseparable from these past months?”
Oh no. Oh no! That smirk! That terrifying smirk!
“The green gem, originally a sapphire produced in this country, was altered using magic. The magic’s precision, along with the base stone’s color and the intensity of the caster’s power, determine the final hue. Naturally, both the craftsmanship and the caster’s skill are critical to the process. It’s not yet widely available, but the result rivals gemstones traded at exorbitant prices abroad. And, as I understand it, you—Filia—were the one who imbued this gem with magic yourself? Is that right?”
Please, just take your hand off my necklace!
I suddenly felt like a frog frozen before a snake or a rabbit cornered by a lion. No, even calling myself a rabbit is presumptuous. I’m sorry! Someone, please save me!
But no one came to my rescue.
His Highness continued, unrelenting:
“So, you ignored your duties as my fiancée to collaborate with some craftsman—a man, no less—to create this gemstone? Despite claiming to hate receiving gifts from me, you worked with him to make this? And now, you expect me, the Crown Prince, to accept this behavior? Such boldness. Such… greed.”
His words were cutting, dripping with sarcasm, each one stabbing directly into my heart.
Even so, I forced myself to keep smiling.
Someone, please recognize my effort! To endure this pressure at such close range while maintaining a façade of composure is worthy of applause.
In my head, I chanted over and over: I am a lady. I am the future queen. I had repeated it so many times now I was starting to lose my grip on reality.
“And yet,” His Highness said, his tone softening slightly, “because I know how much you love this country—and me—I find I can also love your ‘greed.’ So, don’t say no to me, Filia.”
He spoke with such calm certainty, as though daring me to deny it.
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