“Adorable?”
Celicia’s snow-like lashes fluttered slightly as she stared at Moen in surprise.
“This is actually the first time someone would use that word to describe me. Are you teasing me?”
Moen blinked. “What if I say I am...?”
A sudden chill flooded the room.
“No! No! I’m not teasing you! I’m sincerely complimenting you!”
Moen quickly changed his tune, urgently adding, “Adorable is a positive word—a compliment!”
“A compliment, huh…”
Underneath Celicia’s long-frozen ice shell, a faint ripple seemed to pass through. She softly murmured,
“Unfortunately, that word doesn’t suit me.”
“Why not?” Moen asked.
“Because I am a princess. And that’s all.”
Celicia lowered her head again and continued handling her tedious affairs.
“Is that so?”
But Moen wasn’t one to let things go easily. He leaned closer and added, “I think princesses should be a little bit adorable, don’t you think? Like…”
“Like what?” Celicia asked.
“Uh…”
Moen suddenly froze, unsure of how to respond.
All the princesses he could think of with “cuteness” attributes mostly belonged to the anime or manga worlds of his previous life. And let’s face it, most of those characters fell into a category best left “undescribed.”
In this world, the only princess Moen had ever known was Celicia herself.
But truth be told, Celicia alone met all his fantasies about what a princess should embody:
Cold arrogance.
Stunning beauty.
Immaculateness.
And, just a touch of “cuteness.”
But perhaps… wasn’t that subtle, almost invisible cuteness even more “endearing”?
“Forget it.”
Moen sighed suddenly. Gazing at Celicia with a smile, he said,
“Celicia should just stay as she is. You’re attractive enough the way you are.”
The girl's delicate hand, flipping through the pages of documents, paused momentarily.
The window was open.
Night winds stirred.
Celicia’s silver-white hair tumbled and danced under its breath, momentarily shielding her ice-blue eyes.
Her expression was indistinct.
But her cold, breathtakingly beautiful face seemed to soften, if only for a moment.
“You’ve got too much free time, don’t you?”
Moen faltered. The girl appeared as remote and majestic as a snow lotus blooming atop a mountain peak once more, her voice icy, aloof:
“If you have time to waste chattering here, why not go away and stop interfering with my work?”
“Who says I’m interfering!”
Moen thickened his skin and moved closer, grinning.
“I’m here to help, you know.”
“You?”
Celicia cast him a skeptical glance. “Can you even read?”
“... What kind of image do you have of me?!” Moen slammed the table in mock anger.
“Flirtatious, smooth-talking, fickle-hearted, full of nonsense…” Celicia replied expressionlessly.
“...”
Moen suddenly felt as though a bucket of cold water had been poured on him, wilting visibly as he muttered,
“How does any of that relate to whether I can read or not…”
Despite his grumbling, Moen still stretched his hand forward to poke through the massive pile of documents before Celicia.
Celicia let out a soft sigh and carefully selected a few from the stack, handing them to Moen:
“Help me handle these—these were easier to handle.”
“Oh, oh.”
Knowing he wasn’t particularly skilled in this area, Moen didn’t try to be overly ambitious and obediently accepted the files Celicia had specifically picked out for him.
Having decided to help, Moen calmed his thoughts quickly and began working earnestly.
For a while, silence enveloped the room.
Occasionally, Celicia would glance at Moen’s focused profile as he worked, a flicker of surprise flashing in her eyes, her expression softening slightly.
In the warm candlelight, everything felt harmonious.
…
“Coffee’s here!”
Weier pushed the door open and immediately spotted the two engrossed workers. Without lifting their heads, they simultaneously tapped the nearby table and said in unison:
“Leave it here.”
“Huh?”
Weier froze, her gaze growing increasingly suspicious as she scanned Moen and Celicia.
What’s going on with these two today?
Something fishy?
Weier set the coffee down, blinked her big eyes, and curiously leaned over to Moen:
“Moen Campbell, what are you doing?”
“Can’t you see?”
Moen replied, “Helping Celicia, of course.”
“You?”
Weier’s eyes widened in disbelief.
“You can read?”
“...”
Moen’s mouth twitched.
Enough already, you guys!
Picking up the coffee cup and taking a sip, Moen casually remarked,
“Looks like the Lower City District isn’t as chaotic as I thought.”
“Indeed,” Celicia replied. “The situation is better than I anticipated. Despite the near-collapse of its administrative structure, no major incidents of unrest have occurred.”
“That’s surprising. Who do we owe this to?”
“Bruce Wayne.”
Moen froze momentarily.
“Him? What did Bruce Wayne do?”
“He consolidated Lower City District’s gangs, which prevented gang fights and looting during this period of administrative absence. On the contrary, those gangs even voluntarily took on preserving order—and effectively, they’ve been more helpful than the Guard Corps, those useless drunkards.”
“Ha! I see. Seems like Bruce Wayne is quite the capable guy.”
“Of course.”
Celicia continued, “Anyone deemed the ‘Dark Emperor’ of the Lower City District is bound to have extraordinary skills. However, while his ability to bring the gangs together so quickly is impressive, I’m more curious about something else…”
Celicia lifted her head, her gaze meaningful as she stared at Moen.
“His identity. Don’t you agree, Moen Campbell?”
“Oh? I’m curious about that too.”
Moen straightened his face, feigning seriousness.
“To be able to unify the Lower City District, resolve gang disputes, and provide crucial support in key moments—while reducing your workload as a result—Bruce Wayne surely must be a legendary figure of staggering charisma, don’t you think?”
“Whether he got charisma or not is irrelevant. To unify the gangs, one must either possess great wealth and influence, or be formidable in strength and cunning. Combined with his sudden appearance in the Lower City District during such a unique moment… very few people fit that profile.”
Celicia leaned forward, fixing her gaze on Moen's eyes.
“What’s your take on this, Moen Campbell?”
“Ha-ha. My take? What can I possibly surmise? I’m just a plain and ordinary duke’s son.”
Celicia leaned closer, her fragrance faint yet alluring.
Moen maintained his calm demeanor, smiling.
“Well, since I don’t know much about the Lower City District, why not ask someone else, Celicia?”
“Is that so?”
“Indeed.”
“Then perhaps I overthought?”
“Perhaps, ha-ha...”
…
On the sidelines.
Watching the two of them practically leaning heads together, Weier’s eyes widened once more in astonishment.
What’s going on here?
What are they discussing?
Why can’t I understand any of it?
Also, based on all the romance novels I’ve read, when two people get this close either they’re about to fight—or… do “that.”
When did their relationship progress to this level?!
Could it be…
The ultimate flirt, hypocrisy-laden playboy was finally making his move on the innocent president?
No way!
I absolutely can’t let Moen Campbell succeed!
I must protect my president!
I must disrupt them!
Bang!
A loud noise shattered their close proximity.
The two instinctively turned their heads, spotting Weier slamming an exquisitely wrapped box onto the table before flashing a sweet smile.
“Oh dear, just drinking coffee feels so boring. It just occurred to me—today the palace sent over some desserts. Let’s enjoy them together!”
