“Celicia, you can put me down now, right?”

After being carried by Celicia for two blocks, Muen finally couldn’t hold back anymore and spoke with a serious face.

Although being lifted by the scruff like this meant he could feel that small hand gripping the back of his neck—an undeniably pleasant sensation—still, as the son of a duke, such a posture was deeply humiliating to his dignity.

Even if you’re a princess, Celicia, you can’t just humiliate me like this...

“What, you have an opinion?”

Celicia lowered her head, her cold gaze sweeping toward Muen.

“N-no, of course not.”

Muen showed a sincere and peaceful smile. “Why would I have any opinion? My legs just happen to feel a bit weak right now. Having someone help me walk—I couldn’t ask for anything better.”

“Is that so? And now, are your legs still weak?”

Celicia glanced down, her expression faintly meaningful.

“N-no, not weak at all!”

Muen jolted instinctively, shaking off Celicia’s little hand and bouncing in place a few times.

“Full of strength, brimming with spirit—I could run up ten flights of stairs in one breath without panting!”

“Is that so? Then that’s good.”

Celicia released him. “Walk on your own, then.”

With that said, she continued strolling forward at her unhurried pace.

Celicia’s flowing white dress swayed elegantly as she walked through the deserted midnight street. Each light step sent the hem rippling like a drifting cloud, carried away on the breeze.

So beautiful.

Muen gave the same sigh of admiration Anna once had.

The girl before him was only walking as normal, yet the unintentional grace she displayed was enough to make this towering city under the night sky pale into insignificance.

Muen stared at her breathtaking figure for a long while before finally coming back to his senses and striding after her.

He adjusted his pace until he was walking side by side with Celicia, carefully stealing glances at Her Highness’s profile from the corner of his eye.

Her expression was still utterly impassive—an exquisite face as if encased in millennia-old unmelting ice.

“Um... are you angry?”

Seeing Celicia remain silent, Muen asked tentatively.

“Angry?”

Celicia finally paused for a moment. “And why should I be angry?”

“Because...”

Muen scratched his cheek awkwardly. “Because of what you saw just now?”

“Just now?”

Celicia’s eyes flickered. “Was that really something worth getting angry about?”

“Uh...”

Muen didn’t know how to answer, but then Celicia turned to look at him, and a trace of ridicule appeared on her flawless face.

“You don’t seriously think I was jealous, do you, my dear fiancé?”

“Of course not...” Muen gave an awkward laugh.

“Of course not.”

Celicia raised her pale neck slightly, like a proud white swan.

She was Celicia.

She was the princess of this country.

She possessed her own pride and dignity.

Steal a man?

Feel jealousy?

Such things could never be associated with the name Celicia.

Even if the day came when she was no longer a princess... even if Muen Campbell one day grew truly outstanding enough to capture her full attention... even if he really were to be carried off by some other woman... she would never harbor such thoughts.

Ab-so-lute-ly not.

“I did that merely to remind you.”

“Hm?”

“Muen Campbell, the news of your engagement to me has already spread throughout Belrand. I expect you not to be pulling and tugging at other women in broad daylight at such a time, disgracing the palace’s reputation.

“There are many eyes fixed on you now, and on your Campbell family. If those people whisper before my father that you have insulted the royal face and must be punished, don’t blame me for not having warned you.”

“I... see.”

Muen scratched his head in embarrassment.

He truly hadn’t thought of it that way.

Come to think of it, now that the engagement had been announced, the Campbell family had indeed become the focus of every noble in Belrand.

At such a time, he really ought to be more cautious.

But still...

If broad daylight won’t do, then surely doing it in secret would be fine.

Muen rubbed his chin... suddenly feeling excited.

That would be even more thrilling.

...

“By the way, Celicia, are you really fine with this?”

“...What?”

“This engagement.”

After that brief surge of excitement, Muen grew serious again, ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) this time trying to think from Celicia’s perspective.

“I remember you don’t like this engagement, right?”

Muen stared into Celicia’s eyes, speaking earnestly.

“If it were only an engagement, you would still have room to turn things around. But once the betrothal ceremony is performed, you’ll never be able to shake off the name Campbell for the rest of your life.”

The betrothal ceremony—both ritual and contract.

In the Empire, that ritual carried sacred binding force.

Once concluded, others would no longer see her merely as the Princess, but also with the added label of ‘future Duchess.’

“So... you’re thinking of me, then?”

Celicia tilted her head slightly, as though amused that Muen would say such a thing.

“Of course.”

Meeting her gaze without flinching, Muen replied seriously.

“I want to hear your true thoughts.”

In the original novel, Celicia was never someone bound by a marriage contract or by status. Otherwise, Muen would never have been so captivated by her.

She had always acted indifferent to the engagement—because she truly didn’t care.

If she disliked her betrothed, she would never marry him. She would sooner run him through with her sword.

That was why her sudden appearance tonight, and her words, had left Muen so astonished.

“Heh.”

Celicia suddenly let out a quiet laugh.

“To hear such words from the very one who once committed such an outrageous act against me—should I find it ridiculous, or should I be touched?”

“Pfft—”

Muen almost spat blood. He hadn’t expected her to suddenly bring that up again. With a long face, he said,

“I told you that was just an accident. Do you believe me?”

Celicia gave no answer, only shifted the subject: “Just as you thought, if I didn’t like you, I’d sooner stab you through than marry you.”

“But.”

“But?”

“But, after all, I am still the princess of this country.”

Celicia turned her gaze upon the city spread before them, magnificent even beneath the heavy shroud of night.

She had been born here, raised here. On her shoulders rested the expectations of countless people, and with them, the responsibility she had to bear.

The word ‘princess’ gave her not only resources and status—

but also responsibility.

“To become a mere tool, of course I would never agree. But if I can find some balance between my personal likes and dislikes and the interests of this nation... then I don’t think I would refuse.

“After all...”

Celicia turned back, her silver-white hair rippling in the night breeze. Her still-cold gaze lingered deeply on Muen.

“As you are now... you’re not all that unpleasant, are you?”