In the empire, touching royalty was an act steeped in significance and restrictions, both personal and political.
For most people, the re thought of physical contact with an imperial figure was unimaginable.
Every year, the number of individuals who had the privilege-or audacity to physically interact with royalty could be counted on one hand.
Four or five people, at most.
And even among those rare cases, such contact was almost exclusively limited to imdiate family mbers.
Not even the empire's most loyal knights, regardless of their rank or years of service, nor the esteed grand duke or pri minister, could lay a finger on a mber of the imperial family without explicit permission.
It was an unspoken rule, one upheld with unwavering reverence.
And yet, here I was, flagrantly defying that unassailable boundary.
My right hand rested on Sophiel's cheek, my left on her waist.
No matter how one looked at it, this was a gesture that crossed every line of propriety.
This wasn't an accident, nor was it sothing that could be brushed aside as a trivial misstep - at least not in the eyes of anyone who might witness it.
This was an act reserved solely for lovers.
Adding insult to injury, the proximity between our faces was laughably inappropriate, close enough to make any onlooker question the nature of our relationship.
Sophiel's attire only compounded the issue.
That nightgown, coupled with the casual cardigan draped over her shoulders, was far from modest.
While it might have been fine in a private setting, in this context, it all but scread impropriety.
And then there was her expression-calm, almost amused, as if none of this fazed her in the slightest.
It was the perfect recipe for misunderstanding, one that would spiral out of control the mont an outsider laid eyes on the scene.
Unfortunately for , the worst possible person to witness this scene had walked in.
Snow.
The frost in her glare was palpable, her re presence turning the room into a frozen battlefield of tension.
If misunderstandings could be deadly, this one had the makings of a death sentence.
I had anticipated that Snow would address directly, perhaps to broach the topic of our disagreent regarding my upcoming journey to undertake the Trials of Light.
But....
'Why did she have to co at this exact mont?'
Though I was grateful it wasn't the duke or, worse, the emperor who had entered the room- either of whom would have brought entirely different complications-this scenario might actually be worse than both of them combined.
"Snow..." Sophiel murmured softly, her voice carrying an uncharacteristic hesitance, as though she'd only just registered Snow's presence. "I wasn't aware of your return..."
"Yes... due to certain unexpected circumstances, I had to temporarily return," Snow replied evenly, though her tone was anything but casual. Each word was laced with cold precision. "But enough about that."
As Snow stepped closer, the temperature in the room seed to plumt further.
A biting chill seeped into the air, and with each asured step, her presence beca almost oppressive.
Frost crept across the walls, and sharp, glistening icicles materialized in the corners of the room, pointing threateningly at Sophiel.
"What are you doing?" Snow's voice, calm yet piercing, sent a shiver down my spine.
Sophiel tilted her head slightly, as if montarily confused by the question.
But then, as if suddenly coming to her senses, she turned her gaze toward .
Her expression shifted, and she quickly took a step back, putting noticeable distance between
us.
"Apologies, my lord," she said with an uncharacteristic formality, bowing her head slightly. "It seems I lost myself for a mont there..."
Her abrupt shift in deanor caught off guard.
'Why is she suddenly acting all formal all of a sudden?'
"Sn-"
I opened my mouth to speak, ready to diffuse the tension, but Snow's voice cut through the air before I could get a word out.
"Why are you here, Sophiel?" Snow's gaze sharpened, her sky-blue eyes narrowing with unmistakable suspicion.
The frost in the room seed to thicken, as though her very presence was actively drawing warmth away.
The atmosphere was suffocating.
Despite the literal cold, the tension felt like a roaring blaze threatening to engulf us all.
And yet, Sophiel stood there with an unsettling calmness, her gaze steady, as though calculating her next move.
"I was just planning to have a small conversation with Lord Riley," Sophiel began, her tone soft and asured, though there was an underlying weight to her words. Slowly, she reached for the hem of her nightgown, bowing slightly in a gesture of apology. "But as you can see, my mind seed to have been clouded in a haze for a mont, and I ended up doing sothing... unexpected."
Her voice carried a mixture of contrition and poise, her words carefully chosen as though rehearsed in the mont.
"Forgive for doing sothing inappropriate for people of our stature, elder sister," she continued, her purple eyes lifting briefly to et Snow's icy gaze before quickly lowering again. "Lord Riley hasn't done anything wrong, so I do hope you won't turn your anger against him."
|| ||
Silence filled the room, heavy and unyielding.
Snow's piercing eyes bore into Sophiel, scrutinizing every inch of her deanor.
The frost lingering in the air seed to pause, as though even it awaited Snow's judgnt.
Finally, Snow broke the silence.
"Did you... forget to take your dicine?" she asked, her expression softening ever so
slightly.
The sharp suspicion in her eyes gave way to a faint flicker of worry.
"...I'm not sure," Sophiel admitted, her voice carrying an almost weary undertone. "But due to my busy work schedule last night, it seems I may have forgotten to take a few doses." Snow's gaze lingered on Sophiel for a mont longer before she gave a small nod. "I see." With those words, the oppressive tension in the room began to ease.
The frost on the walls softened, and the cold mana that had suffused the air started to dissipate, replaced by a more neutral, tolerable warmth.
I exhaled a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding, my eyes flickering toward Sophiel.
She really is the villainess I knew in the ga...
A well-known fact about Sophiel in this world's society was her dual reputation. Publicly, she was often dismissed as the "foolish princess," a title that allowed her to skirt
through political engagents with an air of innocence.
But behind closed doors, she bore another label-the "frail and sickly princess," one so fragile that she couldn't leave the confines of the imperial palace.
Of course, I knew better.
In the later stages of the ga, players would co to realize that every aspect of her so- called illness was a calculated façade, a carefully crafted lie designed to manipulate and control those around her.
"It seems it was my mistake to co here so suddenly without a proper reason. Once again, I do apologize, my lord," Sophiel said softly, bowing her head slightly as though weighed down by regret. Her voice took on a pleading tone as she continued, "And... please, do keep the conversation we just had a while ago a secret. As you can see, my mind tends to rattle unexpectedly from ti to ti, so I hope you understand."
Her words were delicately chosen, the pleading note in her tone almost disarming. "It's quite alright, Princess Sophiel," I replied, keeping my voice as neutral as possible.
Though....
If Snow asked what happened here, there was no way I'd lie to her.
Sophiel smiled gently, a fleeting expression that didn't quite reach her eyes, before shifting
her attention back to Snow.
"I know my sudden visit here was surprising," she began, her tone smooth and composed, "but your presence here is rather unexpected as well, elder sister. I didn't think Lord Riley and you were close enough to share keys..."
Her eyes flicked aningfully to the golden key holder by the side of my room, then to the golden key Snow casually held in her hand.
Snow, unbothered by the subtle jab, let out a soft scoff. "I think it's only natural for lovers to
share one or two rooms, no?"
||
".....
"????"
"... Uhm... I beg your Pardon?"
The transformation in Sophiel's deanor was almost instantaneous.
The frail, apologetic act she had maintained re monts ago vanished, replaced by pure,
unfiltered shock.
Her purple eyes widened as she stared at Snow, her carefully controlled composure slipping.
"Riley and I are dating," Snow declared with unwavering conviction, her tone steady and
firm, as if daring anyone to challenge her words.
The statent landed like a thunderclap. Sophiel's reaction wasn't the only one worth noting.
Her personal maid, who had maintained an impressively stoic expression throughout the entire encounter, visibly faltered, her eyes widening in disbelief as her poker face shattered in an instant.
And if I had to guess, Amana-the shadow knight who was tasked with guarding from the shadows-was probably sporting a similar expression, wherever she was hiding right now.
The room, which had only just returned to a semblance of normalcy, was once again thick with
tension, though this ti it was of a different nature altogether.
Sophiel, recovering slightly from her initial shock, tilted her head as though trying to process
what she'd just heard.
"You and Lord Riley are... dating?" she repeated, her voice laced with disbelief and a hint of
sothing else was it frustration? Or confusion?
Snow's lips curled into a faint, almost smug smile.
"Yes, we are.... So if you don't mind... could you and your servant kindly take your leave now? I
have so important matters to discuss with my beloved privately. And also..." Her gaze
flicked to Sophiel, pointed and deliberate, "if you're planning to visit soone, please dress appropriately next ti."
Sophiel blinked, montarily thrown off by the remark.
Confusion clouded her features as she turned to glance at herself in the large mirror I had used
earlier.
Her reflection told her everything.
The sheer fabric of her nightgown, the disheveled state of her hair, the faint flush still
lingering on her cheeks-it all scread impropriety.
Realization hit her like a tidal wave, and her face turned a deep, intense shade of red.
"T-This is...?" Sophiel stamred, her voice faltering.
She whirled around, her accusatory gaze locking onto her maid, Lumia, who was already bowing deeply, beads of sweat glistening on her forehead. "Lumia?" Sophiel's voice was a mixture of mortification and fury.
"I apologize, Your Highness!" Lumia blurted, her tone desperate. "I tried to stop-"
"Enough...."
Lumia wanted to apologize but Snow's words cut her off, the clear annoyance on Snow's face
was all Lumia needed to properly shut up... because as loyal and fearful as she was towards
Sophiel she knew it was snow who had real power and authority among the imperial princess's. "Both of you, leave," Snow ordered, her voice cold and commanding, cutting through the
room like a blade.
Lumia, without hesitation, grabbed Sophiel's arm gently, as if trying to guide her out before Snow's temper could ignite further. "Let's go, Your Highness," Lumia whispered urgently. Sophiel hesitated for a mont, her pride clearly warring with her humiliation, but ultimately she relented, allowing her maid to lead her toward the door. She paused briefly, her violet eyes flickering between Snow and , her expression unreadable.
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