“Lord Luke, what’s wrong?”

Though she’d inwardly scorned him thoroughly, Aelia kept her expression politely gentle. As she asked after Luke, she softened her features with practiced concern—careful to feign complete obliviousness to his supposed infatuation with her beauty, perfectly embodying the pure, kind-hearted, naively innocent Saintess.

*(How’s this? Captivated by my pitifully vulnerable yet tenderly caring combo attack, aren’t you?)*

Alas, her true nature was that of a hypocrite… Wait, weren’t *you* a man before? Is it really okay to flirt with men so naturally?

Luke was utterly speechless. Unbeknownst to him, onlookers’ hearts erupted in silent admiration.

*(Truly, Saintess Aelia lives up to her name! Showing such genuine concern despite the Hero’s leering gaze!)*

*(Ah, Saintess Aelia is so pure—she can’t even see how vile Hero Luke’s thoughts are…)*

A short distance away, some didn’t just think it—they whispered criticisms of Luke aloud.

Noticing this, the little figure of Aelia in her mind smirked triumphantly. *Plan successful!*

*(Good. Keep this rhythm. Tarnish the Hero’s reputation, and His Majesty will cancel the adventure plan!)*

Luke saw the scheme’s feasibility—but he wouldn’t ruin his own name. More importantly, facing such a scheming, despicable Saintess ignited fierce defiance in him.

*Make her suffer… No. Thwart her scheme. Make her reflect. I am the righteous Hero.*

He stepped back swiftly, voice earnest and upright:

“Nothing’s wrong. I was impolite earlier—my deepest apologies.”

Like Aelia’s “pure little white rabbit” Saintess act, Luke maintained his own persona: hot-blooded, upright.

*(Tch. Stop pretending. If you want me, say it. What a spineless man.)*

*At least I’m more of a man than you…* Luke turned away silently, keeping deliberate distance, refusing another glance.

*(What? Only *now* playing gentleman? Ridiculous!)*

No one believed it—not Aelia, not the crowd.

Yet for the next hour, Luke showed zero interest in her. Strangely, his act gained credibility.

After all, anyone who could look away from Aelia for five minutes on first meeting was deemed iron-willed. The Magic Academy even used it as a test to find promising commoners.

“Lord Luke, won’t you chat more with Saintess Aelia?”

The Duke—eager to remove the Saintess (a powerful asset) from the kingdom for his schemes—approached.

“No. We’ve just met. My recklessness shouldn’t invite gossip about Saintess Aelia.”

Truth was, the King summoned Luke solely to form a Demon King–slaying party with the Saintess—zero matchmaking intent. But a lone man and woman traveling? Messiah citizens idolizing Saintess Aelia would fantasize. Luke’s formal words instantly shifted opinions.

*(Hmph, sensible! Remember: Saintess Aelia condescends to assist you. You’re just the luggage-carrying lackey!)*

*(Yes! After vanquishing the Demon King, she’ll be *my* wife!)*

*(Saintess Aelia is my lightning, my light, my one and only myth—no one takes her!)*

Still, this alone wouldn’t sway the majority.

“Surely, Lord Luke isn’t dissatisfied with Saintess Aelia?”

The Duke seized the chance: stir conflict between Hero and Saintess, trouble the King.

*Extremely dissatisfied…* Luke’s mind shot back. Outwardly, he straightened, shook his head, voice clear:

“Of course not. Saintess Aelia is as breathtakingly beautiful, kind, and powerful as rumored… Honored to journey with her.”

*(Smart man!)*

*(Yes! Our little Aelia—perfect, holy, captivating! How does such a Saintess exist?!)*

*(Praise Saintess Aelia? Brothers from another mother!)*

Effect: overwhelming.

Thirty percent still disliked him—but he’d stay long enough to turn the tide. Besides, no one is universally loved.

Unlike Luke’s measured effort, Aelia’s thoughts raced:

*(How is he resisting? A eunuch? Who ignores my beauty past ten minutes?!)*

To her, Luke should’ve been utterly captivated. His calmness? *Must* be dysfunction—he’s just stubbornly bluffing…

*Like hell!*

Luke inwardly roared. Mind-reading’s curse: he couldn’t refute even annoying thoughts. Only option: counter elsewhere.

But she was the Saintess—he couldn’t act directly… Just as he pondered, Aelia approached.

*(Time to test if you’re… functionally impaired!)*

Seeing her inner self’s mischievous grin, Luke instantly devised a move.

“Lord Luke, did you enjoy the ball?”

“Very much… Apologies, Saintess Aelia—I’m needed elsewhere.”

He replied perfunctorily and walked away.

Ten minutes later, seeing him chatting happily with others, Aelia approached again.

“My apologies, Saintess Aelia—Count Andusia seems to be calling me…”

After several deliberate dodges, just as Aelia concluded he *must* have an impairment—she froze. He’d accepted a young lady’s dance invitation. Gaze shyly averted, yet flickering with faint excitement.

The Aelia in her mind’s eyes widened.

*(What?! Abandon divinely beautiful me for *those* plain girls? Face-blind? Terrible taste?!)*

A valid concern.

But as Luke pondered proving his taste normal, Aelia’s mind raced ahead:

*(No! His initial gaze was captivated—he *sees* beauty! …Ah! Playing hard to get! Trying to lure *me*!)*

She caught distant whispers: *Is the Saintess being snubbed?* Realization struck.

*(He wants me to chase him—a demeaning move—while swaying public opinion for romantic dominance! Terrifying… I almost fell for it!)*

Aelia cast Luke a gentle glance, then glided back with elegant composure.

*(Hmph. Test patience? Fine. I’ll win. You *will* look at me. You *will* hear my heavenly voice!)*

*Where does he get this confidence?*

Though everything unfolded as Luke hoped, Aelia’s wild overthinking left him speechless.

So speechless he nearly laughed.

Thankfully, his acting was elite—he suppressed it until the ball ended.

Naturally, *someone* was fuming.

*(Unbelievable! This bastard ignored me ALL NIGHT?! How does such a man exist?! AAAAAH!)*

Her inner self gnashed teeth, shredding every imaginary object in sight.

*(Damn it… Fine! Play this game? I’ll play harder! I’ll make you hopelessly fall for me—then discard you coldly. Tear-streaked face. Agony for life!)*