"I'm sure you are quite busy, but please pardon my rudeness...."
The voice cut through the silence of my room, and I turned, expecting to see either the Duke or Snow.
After all, they were the only ones I thought would have any reason-or ans to visit here. But who would have expected this?
Standing in the doorway was soone I had gone to great lengths to avoid.
Soone I had taken every precaution not to attract the attention of.
Yet here she was, in my room, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
'Princess Sophiel.'
She was the last person I'd anticipated coming into contact with, especially like this.
I had deliberately kept our interactions professional and minimal.
I avoided her gaze during our first eting as much as I could, and whenever we were forced to speak, I ensured our conversations were polite but brief.
Yet now, here she stood, defying every effort I'd made to steer clear of her.
"I won't go into lengthy details as to why I'm here, so I'll keep it short," she said, her tone calm yet direct. "Riley Hell, do you believe in fate?"
Fate? Was this so kind of prank? A cryptic riddle?
How did she even get in here?
This room was personally provided to by Snow, and as far as I knew, only Snow and I had the keys.
Yet clearly, that wasn't the case.
"What do you an by that, Princess?" I asked cautiously, unsure of her intent.
"It is exactly what I an," she replied, her voice unwavering.
Her cryptic response only deepened my confusion.
Where was this question even coming from?
And, more importantly, what did she want from ?
As I tried to piece together her motives, I couldn't help but notice the state she was in.
Her appearance was... uncharacteristic for soone of her status.
The dark circles under her eyes suggested she hadn't gotten much sleep, and her attire-if it could even be called that-was less than appropriate.
She was still wearing a one-piece nightdress, and though her gray cardigan covered most of the details, it was still a tad too revealing.
Her disheveled state was so out of place that even her maid, who stood just behind her, seed uneasy, as though silently apologizing for her mistress's unconventional behavior.
The fact that I was still buttoning up my shirt didn't help ease the awkwardness of the situation. Though it seed like only the maid and I were aware of how much it added to the tension, I couldn't shake the discomfort.
I knew Princess Sophiel's character well.
She was the type to act dumb, innocent, or foolish when it suited her to manipulate, distract, and disarm her targets. But right now, she didn't seem to be acting.
There was no guile in her expression, only a strange mix of seriousness and sothing else I couldn't quite place.
She walked forward with deliberate grace, her bare feet barely making a sound against the floor, and sat down on the small couch near my bed. Crossing her legs with a casual confidence, she looked at expectantly, as though she had all the ti in the world.
"So," she repeated, her tone light but insistent, "do you believe in it or not?"
I paused, weighing my words carefully. "...Although I'm not exactly sure what you an by believing in fate, if you're speaking in general terms-yes, I do believe in it, Princess Sophiel," I said finally, my hands working to finish buttoning my shirt.
I an, how could I not?
Most of what I was striving toward was to deter my pre-determined fate of death.
And the system itself-the very thing that guided in this world-was practically a confirmation of fate's existence.
"I see..."
She placed a hand on her chin, her gaze contemplative. Her eyes, shadowed with fatigue, seed to weigh my answer as though it carried so profound significance. Then, slowly, her gaze shifted to .
"Riley..." she began, her voice softer now, "what do you think of ?"
"Pardon?"
Where was this question coming from? And why now?
"Just give your answer," she pressed, her tone firm but not unkind.
Even if she said that, how was I supposed to answer?
I couldn't just blurt out that I thought of her as another unfortunate character, could I? From my perspective, she was just another villain in the ga-an obstacle to overco, a challenge to face.
I hesitated, searching for the right words, while her gaze bore into , unrelenting. Finally, I took a deep breath and spoke, careful to mask my thoughts. "I think you're... an intriguing person, Princess Sophiel. Soone who carries an air of mystery and grace."
That should satisfy her right?
Her lips curved into a faint smile, but it was fleeting.
"Intriguing, huh?" she murmured, almost absently, her voice barely above a whisper. "Looks like fate really does have its way with people. Is this the start of our connection? But... that in itself is strange. After all, I feel nothing toward you," she muttered to herself, completely ignoring my presence as if I wasn't even in the room.
I glanced at her maid, whose expression mirrored my growing unease.
She gave a subtle shake of her head, her face marked with faint worry.
It was clear that even Sophiel's most trusted subordinate couldn't control or influence this
situation.
The whole ordeal was bizarre-uncomfortably so. It was rude, to say the least, for her to barge into my private quarters uninvited.
Even if she was a princess, entering soone's room without permission wasn't exactly dignified behavior.
But, of course, because she was a princess, my hands were tied. I couldn't exactly demand an explanation or force her out.
My position didn't afford the luxury of causing a scene, especially not with soone like
her.
As much as I wanted to address her blatant disregard for decorum, I had to let the situation play out for now.
After all, I couldn't afford to tarnish my relationship with the emperor-or with his family.
No matter how distant Sophiel's connection to him might be, the slightest misstep here could have repercussions.
And with the confirmation of my relationship with Snow inevitably reaching his ears soon, I needed to tread carefully.
One wrong move could turn this precarious situation into sothing far more troubleso.
Still, as Sophiel continued to mutter to herself, seemingly lost in her own thoughts, I couldn't help but wonder: what exactly was her goal in coming here?
And why did it feel like I was being dragged into yet another convoluted ss, one I never intended to be part of?
Finally, after what felt like an eternity of silence and internal deliberation, she spoke again.
"Is that all?"
"Hm?" I blinked, unsure of what she was getting at.
"Is that all you think of ? Am I just intriguing in your eyes and nothing more?" Her voice carried a mix of frustration and sothing deeper-an emotion I couldn't quite place. "I... don't understand where you're coming from, Princess..." I replied cautiously, hoping to
defuse whatever storm was brewing.
Her expression darkened with annoyance.
Without warning, she stood abruptly from her seat and approached , her purple eyes locking onto mine with a mixture of confusion and determination.
"I'm asking if you think nothing more of ," she said sharply. Reaching , her hands grabbed onto the collar of my shirt, pulling closer. "I'm asking if those blue eyes of yours see as more than I see myself."
Her grip tightened, and before I could respond, she took hold of my right hand, guiding it to her cheek. "What do you think of my appearance?" she asked, her voice softening for a
mont.
Before I could process what was happening, she grabbed my left hand and placed it firmly on her waist. "What do you think of my body?"
Her eyes bore into mine with a rare intensity, as if she were searching for sothing beyond
words.
Then, with a trembling voice, she delivered her final question: "What do you think of , personally, without the guise of being a princess?"
"Princess-" I started, my mind scrambling for a way to respond, efore I c d finish,
she snapped.
"I'm asking you if you like , Riley Hell!" she shouted, her voice breaking slightly at the
end, a raw blend of vulnerability and defiance.
"Huh?"
The word escaped in a dumbfounded whisper, the sheer weight of her question hitting
like
a freight train.
What was I supposed to say to that?
"Oh my?"
The sudden sound of a familiar voice sliced through the tension in the room like a blade, the
chilling tone carrying an intensity that instantly froze -and everyone else in the room-
in place.
The air seed to grow heavier as if the weight of her presence alone was enough to stifle any
attempts at explanation.
"What do we have here?"
Turning around, I felt my throat tighten and gulped hard as my eyes landed on Snow, her
figure frad by the doorway.
Her sky-blue eyes, as cold and unyielding as the heart of a winter snowstorm, bore into us
with a frostbitten glare that sent shivers down my spine.
I barely registered the visible puff of frost escaping my breath as the temperature in the room dropped drastically, an icy chill seeping into the atmosphere.
Snow stepped forward with asured, deliberate strides, her pace slow but purposeful.
The frost seed to expand with every step she took, creeping across the room as if
announcing the storm that was about to follow.
"Whatever could the two of you be doing right now?" she asked, her voice laced with a sweet venom that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.
Her words, though calm, carried a threat so sharp it felt like the very air could shatter under
its weight. Her piercing gaze locked onto mine-or more accurately, onto the position of my hands.
One rested on Sophiel's cheek, still warm from her skin, and the other... on her waist.
As if that wasn't damning enough, the proximity of our faces, the slight lean Sophiel had taken toward just monts earlier, only made the situation worse.
It didn't help that Sophiel, of all people, seed utterly unfazed by Snow's arrival, remaining composed as though she hadn't just been caught in what could easily be mistaken for a deeply
compromising position.
Fuck...
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