“Is it just that I'm not that annoying?”

Moen tilted his head slightly in surprise to look at Celicia. “I thought your evaluation of me would be a bit better than that.”

“This evaluation is already good enough,”

Celicia paused for a moment. “Compared to the old you, that is.”

“Really? But I think it's still not enough. I mean, having to marry someone you just don’t find annoying... no matter how I look at it, it seems a little too pitiful.”

Moen suddenly leaned his head closer, blinking as he spoke.

“Hm?”

Celicia raised an eyebrow, looking slightly puzzled.

“So?”

“So... should I try harder?”

Moen anxiously rubbed his hands together. “To make you truly like me... though that seems a bit impossible”

After all, this was the aloof and icy Celicia. Even though Moen knew from the original novel that she had this "outwardly cold, inwardly hot" trait, the icy fortress on the outside wasn't so easy to melt. Even the original protagonist, Phoenix pride Ariel, took nearly half the book to accomplish that. In Moen's understanding of the storyline, she was without a doubt the hardest to win over.

Moen knew he didn’t have the protagonist’s halo or any extraordinary charisma, so he naturally lacked that kind of confidence.

“But...”

“I think if I try a little harder to make you at least have a bit of a favorable impression of me, I can manage that much, right?”

Moen laughed sheepishly. “After all, I think there’s a big difference between marrying someone you merely don’t hate and marrying someone you have some affection for. I just want you to be a little happier.”

“A bit of affection...”

Celicia seemed caught off guard by Moen’s sudden remark. Her delicate brows raised slightly.

The youth before her, though his expression carried a hint of playful nonchalance, had eyes that were utterly sincere in this moment.

And those words... no matter how she heard them, they sounded like a backhanded confession.

A second confession.

Unlike the irritating scene of the first one, this time there was a gentle breeze, a thin mist wafting in the air, and the boy smiled, his golden hair shining with a radiance that she grudgingly had to admit carried a certain handsomeness and charm.

Somewhere in the night, someone hummed a soft, tender tune—a melody reminiscent of a love song.

Yet, the idea of someone trying to “win her over” solely for the purpose of making her happy... it felt oddly strange.

Celicia’s cool gaze lingered on Moen for a moment before she abruptly spoke:

“Do you sweet-talk those two other girls the same way?”

“Pfft—”

Moen nearly spit blood on the spot.

Is *this* really the right time to bring that up? Do you not understand romance, Princess Celicia?

“Wha—what sweet-talk?!”

Moen thickened his skin and declared, “I’m being completely honest here! Honest to the point it’s shining brighter than a pearl!”

“Is that so?”

Celicia's tone turned somewhat ethereal.

In the next instant, the fallen leaves along the roadside suddenly stirred.

Moen’s heart clenched.

Alarms blared in his head.

Before he could even react, a cold, sharp flash of white light appeared in front of his eyes.

Moen froze.

Feeling the icy chill pressing suddenly against his neck, he slightly craned his head upward, cold sweat already dripping from his forehead.

So fast...

Moen’s gaze shifted downward to the crystalline ice blade now resting against his neck, his heart filled with shock.

He hadn’t even caught when Celicia had made her move.

Compared to a few months ago, it seemed she had grown far stronger—by leaps and bounds.

No, wait. Thinking back to the unique circumstances from a few months ago, her abilities had been greatly restricted at the time.

This—this now was the true sharpness of the empire’s famed number-one prodigy shining through.

“This is all?”

Celicia narrowed her eyes, a rare faint trace of amusement playing across her face. “Moen Campbell, if this is the depth of your sincerity, it’s pretty weak.”

“Th-th-that’s just the venue! Let’s change locations and test again?”

Moen stiffened his neck, pretending to be utterly unbothered.

“You can't beat me no matter where you are.”

Seemingly oblivious to Moen’s flirtatious deflection, Celicia casually dispelled the ice blade.

Then, amidst Moen’s stupefied expression, she reached out with her slender, fair fingers, lightly hooked his chin, and, in a move that seemed more befitting of a domineering CEO teasing their helplessly alluring prey, arched her lips into a subtle, enigmatic smile:

“Then do your best, my dear fiancé. Because right now, you are far, far from being enough.

I don’t fall for men weaker than me.”

“W-WHAT do you mean by not enough?!”

Momentarily stunned by Celicia’s overbearing demeanor, Moen snapped back and fumed, “Let’s change that location right now! I’ll show you whether I’m enough or not!”

“Heh.”

Celicia laughed softly, indifferent as she turned and continued forward.

The rustling hem of her dress and her swaying hair were as ethereal as the lingering frost petals scattered faintly through the air.

Stunningly beautiful.

...

“So, Celicia, where exactly are we going?”

Having been thoroughly humbled for the umpteenth time that evening, Moen now trudged along with dead-fish eyes. Finally, the thought of tonight’s actual purpose resurfaced in his mind.

Come to think of it, Celicia’s involvement in the previous business couldn't only have been about so-called warnings, right? Warnings could be issued any time—there was no need to deliberately stir up trouble for him… right?

Celicia wasn’t that type of idle person. There had to be something more important.

“The Emperor has summoned you.”

Celicia brushed back a strand of hair behind her ear and replied nonchalantly.

“Oh, so it’s the Father in la—wait, what did you just say?!”

Moen’s eyes widened instantly, staring at her in shock. “Did you say His Majesty wants to see me?”

“That’s correct.”

“Something so important, and you didn’t say so earlier?!”

For the third time tonight, Moen nearly spat blood, now pacing agitatedly like an ant on a hot griddle.

The Emperor wanted to meet him? For real?

What was he supposed to do—what should he say? Maybe starting off with a compliment like “Your daughter is awesome” would come across as polite enough?

“What are you panicking for?”

Celicia shot him a sideways glance.

“Do you honestly think Father would summon you at this hour purely for a formal audience?”

“Ah... you’re right.”

Moen paused and took a deep breath, cooling himself down. It was the dead of night—unlikely, now that he really thought about it.

So then...

“The formal summons will likely arrive tomorrow. But before that...”

“Before that?”

Celicia’s gaze abruptly turned icy. “You might want to wash off that overwhelming scent of other women first.”

“...”

...

Celicia led Moen to what appeared to be an inconspicuous residential compound.

“This place is...?”

“My current temporary lodging.”

“So plain?”

Moen blinked in surprise.

Though the architectural design hinted at subtle craftsmanship and refinement, it still didn’t quite align with his image of what a princess’s quarters should look like.

“Just a temporary residence. Why draw unnecessary attention?”

Celicia answered indifferently, stepping forward to unlock the door herself.

“No guards?”

“Do I look like someone in need of protection?”

“Fair point… so, personal maids then?”

“I have arms and legs. Why do I need maids?”

“Wow… only you could be so pragmatic,”

Moen couldn’t help but marvel, but his eyes suddenly lit up.

No guards.

No maids.

Which meant...

Late at night.

Just the two of them.

Alone in the same house.

A man and woman...

*Together.*