As the so-called philosopher and Five-Star General MacArthur once quipped, the most infuriating thing in life isn’t being provoked—it’s having to force a smile afterward and thank the provocateur.

“Thank you, Lord Luke,” Aelia said warmly while tending to Charles.

Meanwhile, inside her mind, a cute little mental avatar of herself was furiously cursing someone’s entire ancestry for eighteen generations—enunciating every syllable with sharp clarity, voice trembling with helpless, seething rage.

Luke barely suppressed a laugh and replied with perfect composure:

“The one who should thank you is me. Charles, your unwavering resilience and hard-earned martial skill truly enlightened me.”

“You flatter me,” Charles returned. “Your creativity, insight, and the vast wisdom gathered from journeying across nations humble me. I hope we may spar again someday.”

“No problem.”

Watching the two ignore her—a breathtakingly beautiful idol who should’ve been the center of attention—and instead exchange hollow praise and mutual admiration, Aelia’s mental avatar rolled on the floor in another furious tantrum.

After Luke took his leave, Charles turned to her and delivered another psychological blow:

“Aelia, after today’s bout, I’ve confirmed it—Lord Luke is an upright and honorable Hero. You can rest assured.”

*Like hell I will!*

*After all that, this is your conclusion?!*

*Couldn’t you have just lost outright?!*

*Unbelievable!*

Aelia raged silently. No matter how loudly she screamed in her head, Charles remained utterly oblivious—until he added:

“Aelia, I wish you and Lord Luke a safe journey.”

…

“Idiot… fool… Who said I wanted to leave?!”

That evening, back in her room, Aelia flopped onto her soft bed and shouted into the pillows.

Delicious meals every day. Endless elegant gowns. Dozens of maids rotating to attend to her every need… A life this blissful could last lifetimes.

Only that pig-headed Charles would miss it! Claiming he sees her as a sister—who pushes their sister into a fiery pit?!

But his foolishness was nothing new. After a brief grumble, Aelia redirected her fury squarely at the true culprit.

The moment the black-haired Hero’s image surfaced in her mind, anger surged across her features, her breath quickening.

In all the years since her transmigration—or rather, since she’d grown up—she’d never met anyone so utterly detestable.

“Damn you, Hero Luke… I’ll make you pay—”

Knock, knock.

Two seconds later, the golden-haired elf maid stepped inside.

“Elise, what is it?” Aelia sat gracefully on the bed’s edge, a gentle, loving smile gracing her face.

“I…”

Seeing Aelia completely composed, untouched by the day’s events, Elise’s guilt deepened. After a hesitant pause, she knelt.

“I’m sorry, Princess Aelia…”

Charles had already shared the test results. Relief warred with dread—anyone could deduce she was the prime suspect behind Charles’s intel. Even with pure intentions, now that the Hero stood proven innocent, charges of incitement and disrespect were inevitable. She wouldn’t lie. But punishment would tarnish Aelia’s name. So she chose confession—to let Aelia “uphold justice” and sever ties cleanly.

*(You fool! If I report you, everyone will know I orchestrated it. Pushing a scapegoat? You’ll ruin my reputation!)*

Understanding this, Aelia’s inner fury flared—but she gently lifted Elise up.

“Rise, Elise. You acted for my sake. How could I ever abandon you?”

“But… others might…”

“Let them suspect. Feel no guilt. You and Brother Charles only fulfilled your duty to protect me. I’m truly grateful.”

*(Exactly. Don’t fear. Next time, keep doing these dirty jobs for me.)*

“Lord Luke suffered no harm. Even if he had, you’d bear no blame—failing Brother Charles’s test would prove his flaws.”

*(Test boldly next time. Better to wrong an innocent than spare a guilty one. I refuse to believe that damn Hero has zero flaws to exploit!)*

Aelia’s eyes gleamed with resolute confidence.

Elise’s gratitude swelled—and shame washed over her. *How could someone as wise and mighty as Princess Aelia be blinded by love, deceived, or controlled? She must have seen Lord Luke’s nobility all along… Perhaps even my actions were part of her design. Letting facts speak, not words… Every move she makes is profound, far-sighted… This time is no different.*

“I understand now, Princess Aelia! I’ll wholeheartedly support you and Lord Luke!”

*(Perfect reaction… Wait—why assume I’m adventuring with that damn Hero?! Stop shipping everyone! So many people in and out of the palace—haven’t you gossiped enough?! …Ah!)*

A sinister light flickered in Aelia’s heart. A low, wicked chuckle escaped, echoing through the dark theater of her mind.

Outwardly, she wore a faintly perplexed expression.

“Elise, I think you’ve misunderstood. I hold Lord Luke in high regard… but not *that* way.”

“Huh?”

*(Yes! Exactly that reaction!)*

“I admire him deeply—but it isn’t romantic.”

Elise blinked, processed it, and slowly nodded. Aelia had never shown interest in romance. Yesterday’s slight deviation must’ve been misread as puppy love. Yet as Messiah Kingdom’s most revered Saintess—so exalted, so peerless—it was only natural to feel eager meeting a worthy, virtuous partner.

*(Guess I’ve lost judgment from too many romance novels and gossip sessions…)*

Just as Elise opened her mouth to apologize, Aelia’s expression softened into hesitant vulnerability.

“Besides… Lord Luke is so handsome and strong. Many must adore him. He might… already have someone special before coming to the kingdom…”