"Mm, that's right."

Seeing her father’s attention diverted, Lucy nodded and curiously glanced at her sister, like a well-behaved child who’d casually brought up the topic.

Mefia’s heart clenched. She secretly shot a glare at Lucy but showed no hint of abnormality.

At today’s banquet, some nobles had brought their slaves—or rather, pets. Ugly races or laborers weren’t worthy of entry. Only sweet, lovely-looking slaves came here, often nestled in their masters’ arms as pets or bed companions. Only this earned favor. To prevent escapes and assert ownership, such slaves wore collars with chains attached.

Nearby, at a table, a pink Catfolk girl sat obediently in her master’s lap. Her neck chain was held firmly in his hand. Catfolk were rare; showing them off was normal. The cute girl, noticing stares, seemed nervous. Many male nobles kept glancing her way.

"Just a slave. Nothing important. Why fuss over it?"

"But didn’t I see you holding hands with Difo happily the other day, little sister?"

"Why claim you dislike him now?"

"It’s fine. If you like him, speak up. Father won’t stop you."

Disgusted by her sister’s jab, Mefia wasn’t one to take it lying down. She shot back: "Have a couple of kids later. Let Father enjoy being a grandfather."

"Father, I think she’s hiding it because she fears your disapproval."

A trace of a smile curved Mefia’s lips. She spoke mercilessly—unlike Lucy, who’d only mentioned pets and avoided the word "Bloodkin." This retaliation was overdue; Lucy had caused her trouble all week.

Aiken perked up, turning to Lucy. "Is this true, Lucy?"

"If you like him, bring him to me."

"No major flaws? Then... it’s not impossible."

As Lor Empire royalty, spouse status mattered—but not exclusively dukes or royals. As long as he wasn’t ugly enough to shame the family or a useless fool, doting Aiken would agree.

Now Lucy felt uneasy. She put on a helpless, wronged expression but quickly rebutted: "No, Father. He pursues me, but I never agreed."

"Many Imperial Capital nobles chase us sisters. One or two more don’t matter." She looked puzzled at Mefia. "Sister seeing me hold hands with him? You must’ve mistaken it."

"I don’t recall ever being alone with him outside. At balls, he asked me to dance. At banquets, he chatted. I refused every time."

"This guy just won’t quit. So annoying."

...

Lucy denied everything in seconds. Admitting it was unthinkable—Father would push a match. If the throne were secured, a sham marriage to that fool might work. But without it? Lucy never made losing bets.

Aiken’s attention shifted anyway. A slave paled next to his daughter’s marriage.

"Ah, forget it."

"Decide for yourselves." He felt uneasy but, ever doting, couldn’t force them. Mefia had no prospects yet; Lucy’s silence wasn’t odd.

"I’m tired."

"Leaving first."

"Enjoy yourselves."

At noble banquets, his presence restrained guests despite his assurances. Aiken knew this. Waving wearily, he left without looking back.

The two Princesses watched him go, then locked eyes.

"Lucy, watch your mouth," Mefia threatened, furious her pet had been mentioned. "Or I’ll spread your dirty secrets to every noble."

"Huh? Sister, what do you mean?" Lucy chuckled, unfazed. "Look—others brought Catfolk girls. If you brought your little pet, no big deal."

"No one would suspect..." Catfolk girls were precious; Bloodkin, unseen by most, rarer still. Bringing one would spark curiosity, not suspicion of lesbianism.

"That’s my business."

"Want a Catfolk slave? Ask other nobles."

"Don’t even think about Shelley." Her two pets were meticulously chosen. Once in her secret garden, they never left. Mefia’s pickiness meant quality.

"Tsk. So sensitive." Lucy smiled faintly, ever carefree. "I just asked why you didn’t bring your pet. No need to panic."

"Second Princess." A tall, handsome brown-haired man approached—Duke Kevin’s son, Difo, rumored with Lucy. He bowed gracefully, hand extended. "Pardon the intrusion. May I have this dance?"

He interrupted them. Even Mefia glanced over.

"Mm... sorry, Difo." Lucy adjusted instantly, voice weak, face pale. "Not feeling well. Let’s skip it."

"Ah... I see." Disappointed but gentlemanly, Difo pressed no further. "Shall I escort you back?"

"No need. Sorry, Sister. I’ll leave first. Have fun~"

Lucy was absent-minded. Difo was just a tool to test Father’s stance on their marriages. But hearing rumors changed nothing—he’d not budge. Time to retreat. Cautious Lucy never gambled. Forcing a faint smile, she turned away.

Mefia was left alone, disdainfully turning her head.