"A lifelong partner bound by love and commitment isn't something to joke about lightly."

After listening to Dilin's words in stunned silence, John's face twisted oddly. He instinctively reached out, one hand feeling Dilin's forehead, the other his own.

"? What are you doing?"

"One of us must have a fever," John declared confidently. "Either I'm delirious and seeing things, or you're feverish and spouting nonsense. One of us has to go today!"

"It's only been days, and you've gone from a guy who got cheated on to a pure love warrior? That's off!"

"What cheated-on guy? Never happened. Stop it," Dilin said, slapping John's hand away.

Truthfully, he was puzzled why he'd reacted so intensely to a mostly joking remark. It felt like it had touched his core principle.

Maybe he was just sleep-deprived and oversensitive. Or perhaps, as John said, he hadn't fully let go yet.

"You mentioned another campus celebrity besides Astrid?" Sensing his own oddness, Dilin cleared his throat dryly to act normal, picking up John's thread.

"Hah! I knew you couldn't resist this," John said, clapping Dilin's shoulder.

"You really need to brush up on gossip. The one whose popularity rivals Astrid's..."

*Clang...!* The bronze bell inside the arena boomed with deep, resonant sound.

Had the match started already?

Dilin blinked, glancing at the book spread on his lap. Time had slipped away unnoticed.

Though an official tournament, it focused more on testing and data collection. No podium battles, rankings, or live assessments meant no announcer for opening remarks—only referees were present.

"Time's up. First match in Hall 23: Brin Kaito versus Felicia Zosha."

"Oh, here we go!" Hearing the fighters' names, John's eyes lit up. He stretched his neck like a giraffe.

"Who?"

Rarely tearing his gaze from his book, Dilin immediately noticed the dazzling, spotlighted girl entering the ring.

Standing tall on the circular arena floor, the girl had noble amber hair and orange-gold eyes. Dressed in an elegant high-waisted gown, she held her chest high like a queen surveying her court. Every move radiated effortless confidence.

Her amber locks flowed into twin tails, ending just above flawless, plump thighs. Below them, knee-high heeled boots hugged her legs.

The high-waisted dress barely contained her ample bust, revealing a deep cleavage.

Her slender legs were sheathed in strapless black stockings, paired with a short skirt that showcased the alluring gap between fabric and skin.

This casual outfit looked like ballroom attire on her—like a pearl among pebbles, impossible to ignore.

Arms crossed, her exquisite face embodied "grace." Her head tilted slightly up, orange-gold eyes seeming to overlook everyone. The faint curve of her lips wasn't arrogance, but innate, unshakable confidence.

"That's Felicia Zosha, Crown Princess of Whiteglass Kingdom—the 'Immaculate Whiteglass Knight Princess.'"

"Her campus popularity ranks just below Astrid, the 'Silver Moon Princess'... Pity. If she weren't like that, she'd be even more popular," John said regretfully.

Usually the first to ogle beauties, John now only sighed with deep regret at Felicia.

This piqued Dilin's curiosity.

"Like what?"

"You don't know?" John stared at him in shock. "You're clueless about campus gossip. What do you even do all day? Don't tell me you bury your head in books like some old scholar!"

"Well, this Whiteglass Princess is... how to put it." John glanced around, searching for something.

He picked up a small twig from the ground and bent it slowly—not snapping it, just crooking it.

"Get it?" John waved the bent twig before Dilin.

"No." Dilin tilted his head.

"Ugh, fine! This princess doesn't like men!"

"Who someone likes is their freedom, right?" Dilin still didn't get it.

"Seriously? I mean she likes women!"

"...Do you have proof for this?" Dilin asked after a pause.

"Proof? It's campus-wide knowledge. Your info is terrible."

"Just because everyone says it, you suspect her orientation without evidence?" Dilin frowned.

"So what? Do you think Princess Felicia doesn't hear the rumors? She never denies them—it's like she accepts it."

"And who says no proof? She's a Whiteglass princess—who'd dare slander her lightly? Everyone thinks Felicia's into girls because... hey, this ties back to you."

"? Me?" Dilin was confused. "I don't even know her."

"Not directly. Indirectly... You know, Felicia sent love letters to your old... I mean, to Astrid."

"..." Dilin fell silent.

"Plus, 'Whiteglass Knight Princess' Felicia chasing 'Silver Moon Princess' Astrid's love is common knowledge," John added carefully, watching Dilin's reaction.

"...Ultimately, it's her love and feelings. Nothing wrong with that." In fact, if true, Dilin respected her courage to pursue love beyond gender norms.

"But Princess Felicia's private life... supposedly messy..."

"Hm?"

"Rumors say she's... insatiable. Spends nights with five innocent girls, then bounces back fresh the next day... Of course, just rumors—truth unknown. But I think they hold some weight."

"..."

Now, Dilin's gaze at Felicia held a trace of barely noticeable disgust.

Primitive, base behavior—satisfying pitiful urges, unfaithful to love, yet openly chasing others.

Of course, just rumors. Unverified. But if true, it was rather sickening.