“What? You’re saying the gentleman you’re seeing has been pulling away from you after noticing the outfit I helped you pick?”

While Arman debated with his “outside ally” whether to apologize to the woman, Evelia slipped out under the pretense of buying flower wrapping paper and returned to the lingerie boutique she’d visited before.

“Yes, exactly. And he’s not *my* gentleman,” Evelia corrected gently.

Her “outside ally” was the shop assistant—sweet as cotton candy. A business card introduced her as Liliana, but she’d shyly insisted, “Just call me Anna.”

“Hmm… that doesn’t make sense…” Anna frowned, squinting slightly. “Wait—the man you’re trying to get close to… wasn’t he a knight?”

“Yes,” Evelia nodded. “He is.”

To avoid trouble, she kept Arman’s identity secret. As Captain of the Royal Knights Order, he was well-known—even controversial—among nobles and noblewomen alike. No need to stir gossip in a women’s boutique.

“Is he… handsome?”

“Very.” Evelia didn’t hesitate. By society’s standards and her own observation, his face alone could secure a lifetime of comfort.

“And his physique?”

“Excellent.”

Though puzzled by Anna’s questions, Evelia answered honestly. Arman’s looks were flawless—sharp features honed by knightly training. Deeper traits remained unseen, but one glance hinted at perfection.

“A handsome, fit knight… ignoring a beauty like you? Even pulling back after seeing your lingerie?” Anna’s eyes widened with mysterious excitement, as if witnessing history. “Wait—you don’t think he’s… *that* type? The kind who only likes men?!”

“…That type?” Evelia tilted her head, confused.

“Exactly! Gay!” Anna whispered dramatically.

“…So *that’s* it.”

Light dawned on Evelia. Rumors about Arman’s preferences suddenly made sense. All her efforts backfiring—it wasn’t her.

*But… should I ask the Second Prince to change me back? Impossible…*

“Of course, Miss Evelia! With your looks? No straight unmarried man could resist you. He’s the problem! Knights’ camps have way higher gay ratios than civilian life. Your knight? Definitely gay!”

—*Achoo!*

Far away at the Royal Knights Order headquarters, Arman sneezed hard. Rubbing his nose, he watched Kale and the Crown Prince swap “compliments” about their wives—*so graceful, so understanding*—while clearly venting frustrations. To Arman, it was pure couple-flaunting.

“…”

Arman slumped on the sofa, legs crossed, chin propped in hand. The others had long abandoned decorum—shifting numb limbs, lounging freely. In any other setting, the etiquette masters would faint. But this was *his* domain. Criticize? Become a training dummy.

Kale, Deputy Captain and heir to a merchant empire, spoke warmly of raising his three-year-old daughter. His wife managed their vast fortune; his position secured influence. Outsiders saw them as the empire’s golden couple—dream parents for every hopeful family.

The Crown Prince’s eyes softened with quiet envy as Kale described his daughter’s charm. Even Arman noticed.

“…Ugh.”

Arman sighed deeply. The room shimmered with *couple aura*. His eyes felt scorched.

“Arman,” the Crown Prince turned to him. “You’ve been sighing. Found someone who caught your eye? Let us advise you.”

“Huh? No—really, no need,” Arman waved hastily.

*How could I say she’s a spy? She’d be executed before I finished the sentence.*

“At your age? Don’t be shy. It’s time to build a family.”

“…Too distant for me.”

*Family = weakness. Just like refusing the prince’s title. A family would chain me forever.*

“But don’t you want to marry *her*? Have children?” Kale’s gaze pierced like a blade. Arman’s lips twitched. He looked down at the carpet pattern, Evelia’s face flashing in his mind.

“No…”

“What a scoundrel,” Kale teased.

“Haha… not really.” Arman curled inward, knees to chest, forehead pressed to palms. *I’m just stabilizing her. For the empire.*

*…If only I didn’t know she’s a spy. Being fooled would’ve been easier.*

*Is Evelia still angry with me?*

—Meanwhile, Evelia wasn’t angry at all.

“But gay or not,” Anna chirped, cheeks flushed yet bold, “you can *turn him straight*!”

“Turn him…?”

“Fan service! For yourself! Show your charm—strike fast!”

“…?” Evelia blinked, utterly lost.

“But if he *is* gay, go slow,” Anna continued eagerly. “Brush fingers when handing things. ‘Accidental’ hallway bumps. A ‘lucky’ glimpse while changing. Drop something Cinderella-style. A tiny cut needing care… Adapt! Soft type? Be strong. Strong type? Be gentle!”

Evelia froze, processing the avalanche of tactics. After a long silence, she lifted her head, eyes sharp with resolve.

“…I understand completely.”