Chapter 33
“Why are you silent? If you have something to say, then say it.”
Nanael’s interrogation pressed on, and every gaze in the vicinity locked onto me.
I let the silence stretch just long enough, then spoke in the languid, honeyed voice of a romance-opera heroine.
“It’s only natural that Princess Nanael hates me. The engagement was broken because of me, after all.”
“Gasp!”
Sierra and Glaster clapped their hands over their mouths in perfect unison.
From the row behind us, one of the more delicate superfans actually swooned and had to be fanned back to consciousness.
“So you’re finally admitting it without excuses?”
Nanael’s eyes narrowed, suspicion sharp enough to cut glass.
In the middle of this glorious chaos, I drew the ring from my pocket.
“Yet as Her Highness herself said—we have nothing to hide. We have not even properly begun.”
Someone who knew their jewels shrieked.
“That’s it! That’s the supreme-grade pink diamond Duke Ainluk commissioned from Digri just recently!”
The words “supreme-grade pink diamond” made Nanael’s glare stab toward my hand like a poisoned arrow.
‘Oh, it’s famous, is it? Perfect. This just got a lot easier.’
I lifted the ring high, letting sunlight pour through it like liquid dawn.
“Right after the engagement was dissolved, Ren-oppa put this on my finger and begged me to accept his heart. When he realized I might refuse, he came to me every single day, courting me without shame.”
I exaggerated just enough to paint Alferen as a man who would wither without me; no one noticed—least of all Nanael—could tear their eyes from the stone’s fire.
I let my voice drip with theatrical longing.
“…Look at this color. Tell me, who could possibly refuse something this beautiful?”
It was pure snake-oil nonsense, yet the entire section nodded as if I had spoken gospel.
“Yes, exactly—that jewel alone could buy half the capital.”
“It matches Lady Rodellia’s hair perfectly. Who knew Duke Ainluk had such romantic taste?”
The pink diamond flashed like a captured star as I slid it onto my finger.
“Truthfully, because he had been Her Highness’s former fiancé, I hesitated. But really okay for me to accept? But then—who in the world could reject a man like Ren-oppa?”
I swept the crowd with a challenging, sparkling gaze: anyone brave enough, step forward.
The superfans shook their heads in dazed, worshipful denial.
I smiled sweetly at Nanael, whose face had gone the exact shade of rotten plum.
“Thanks to Princess Nanael’s wise words, I finally found my courage. You’re absolutely right—it isn’t some dirty little fling; it’s a confession that came after the engagement ended. So we can be perfectly open about it, can’t we?”
I twisted her own logic until it strangled her, then drove the blade home.
“Clinging to something that’s already finished is the real scandal, isn’t it?”
In other words: keep your hands off Alferen forever.
Nanael’s eyes bulged with rage.
“…Well, yes, it has been quite a while since the broken engagement. And it was only a formal engagement anyway. No real issue.”
“Exactly. And honestly, the one who was unfaithful during the engagement period was—”
The tide turned in a heartbeat. A princess notorious for tyranny versus a spotless duke’s daughter—there was only ever one winner.
I raised my ringed hand high into the air like a victory banner.
“I’ve made my decision—I will accept Duke Alferen Ainluk’s feelings!”
Lottie, tears already spilling, began clapping wildly; the rest of the crowd, thinking the match had begun, thundered applause after her.
Hidden in the uproar, I sent Nanael a playful wink that said, burn in it.
‘Must be ready to explode, huh?’
The more you try to crush a weed, the higher it grows—just to spite you.
Unable to endure another second, Nanael swept out in a storm of silk and fury, handing me yet another victory.
“Delly…”
Lottie tugged my sleeve and timidly pointed behind me.
I had completely forgotten the phalanx of superfans I’d turned my back on while fighting Nanael.
Of course, their presence had made the entire spectacle infinitely easier…
“Um… that is…”
Their expressions were apocalyptic.
Then the leader seized my hands in both of hers.
“Lord Alferen loves sweets—please put no fewer than five sugar cubes in his coffee. When something bothers him, his brows draw exactly three centimeters closer together, so never give him wrinkles. Please.”
What is this, the ex-girlfriend handover ceremony?
The entire row was already misty-eyed and sniffling.
So the murderous scowls had just been them trying not to cry.
“His left profile is more beautiful, so always photograph from the left…”
They delivered an exhaustive, reverent lecture on every quirk and preference of their idol. It was delivered with such solemnity I couldn’t find a single gap to interrupt.
At last the leader dabbed her eyes with a lace handkerchief and declared,
“The Lilith Club never opposes Lord Alferen’s choice. We have now witnessed with our own eyes that he chose you, Lady Rodellia Peris, and we therefore recognize you as his beloved.”
I swallowed the urge to ask why I needed their blessing and stayed silent.
Their faces were too heartbreakingly earnest to mock.
‘The club name is Lilith, though…’
Lilith—the flower language of lily is “purity” and “love that never wavers.”
Somehow that felt almost innocent for a pack of obsessed stalkers.
The leader pressed a calling card into my palm.
“Should you ever require assistance, please visit us anytime. A single close-up photograph of Lord Alferen will earn you the full support of every member.”
The whispered bribe was so sticky it raised goosebumps along my arms.
‘Innocent my earlier thought about innocence. This is a straight transaction for continued intimate stalking.’
But one against thirty left me only one possible answer.
“Thank you… very much.”
They returned to their seats with military precision.
In front of each stood an ultra-luxury magical cannon camera the size of a small siege weapon.
“Everyone, please observe proper spectator etiquette. Graceful posture yields the finest photographs.”
At this stalker creed, the entire section straightened like soldiers.
If I so much as twitched, I would be ejected from my seat in 0.2 seconds flat.
“Ahem. Shall we watch the match?”
The announcement conveniently rang out that the competition was beginning; I turned forward, pretending the Lilith Club had vanished into thin air.
Completely unaware what kind of tsunami my public confession-acceptance was about to unleash.
* * *
“Why is the spectator section making such a racket?”
Aslan, just about to step into the boat, looked up toward the noise.
At that exact moment, a girl in a white lace bonnet was receiving thunderous applause.
Twin braids of unmistakable pale pink hair spilled from beneath the brim.
Rare color. Aslan recognized her instantly.
He smacked Adrian’s back repeatedly.
“Yo, Adrian, that’s your little sister, right?”
Adrian, who had spent the last ten minutes muttering murder plans against whoever gave Rodellia a ring, whipped around.
“What did you say?”
Aslan pointed with a glare that could kill.
Adrian’s hawk eyes locked on target—and the instant he saw the pink diamond flashing on her finger, he detonated.
“NOOOOOOOOO!”
“So now we’re not even allowed to look?”
Aslan grimaced, assuming another bout of brotherly nonsense, but then—
A light like the sun itself crashing to earth blazed forth.
The source was Alferen.
He was staring up at the stands wearing an expression of pure, blinding ecstasy none of them had ever witnessed on his face before.
The already dangerously handsome man smiling that radiantly was physically painful to behold.
“Ugh… what the hell is this light…”
