I AM NOT THE LOVE INTEREST! Chapter 6: Excuses!

Chapter 6: Excuses!

—CELIA—

"Who is it?" Sebastian asked once more, sohow becoming irritated.

I smiled, not because I was happy. But because I was panicking.

"Who is... who?" I asked, as if there was any chance that question would save .

Sebastian did not blink. "The man you claim to love."

Ah.

That man.

The one who did not exist.

My father leaned forward slightly, clearly entertained. "Yes, Aria. Since you have already declared it so boldly, you may as well tell us."

I stared at both of them.

One was curious while the other looked like he was about to turn this into a full on interrogation.

I was not prepared for either.

"Right," I said slowly. "That would make sense."

My mind raced.

Think.

Think properly.

You cannot say no one.

You cannot say it was a mistake.

You definitely cannot say you panicked and invented a person out of fear.

That would raise more questions.

Dangerous questions.

I needed a na.

A believable one.

Soone far enough away from the main plot.

Soone who would not imdiately walk into this room and expose .

Soone...

Oh no.

My thoughts stopped.

Because every na I knew was a problem.

Crown Prince Damien Ashford

Absolutely not.

That would get executed faster.

Sir Matthias Sinclair.

Also no.

He was too involved.

Archmage Ezekiel Rowe.

Even worse.

I did not need magic-related complications in my life.

I felt my soul leave my body again.

Why were all the important n in this story dangerous?

Why was there no option labeled "safe background character with no emotional involvent"?

My silence stretched too long.

Sebastian’s gaze sharpened. "You are hesitating."

"Yes," I said honestly. "I am."

That was not helping.

My father chuckled lightly. "Is this a secret love, then?"

"Yes," I said again.

That part, at least, was technically true.

It was a secret.

Even to .

I took a breath.

Commit. Just commit to sothing and survive the consequences later.

"He is..." I began.

Then stopped.

Because the mont I said a na, that person would beco real in this situation.

Attached to and connected to this decision.

Potentially dragged into sothing they did not sign up for.

I did not want to ruin soone else’s life on top of my own.

"I would prefer not to say," I finished instead.

Sebastian leaned back slightly, his expression cooling further. "Convenient."

I winced internally.

Yes.

Very.

My father, however, seed amused rather than offended. "You expect to accept that you wish to dissolve ypur long desire engagent over an unnad individual?"

"...When you put it like that," I said, "it does sound slightly unreasonable."

"Slightly?" Sebastian repeated.

I glanced at him briefly but looked away imdiately when I realized he was staring at so intently.

"I understand your concerns," I said, trying to recover. "But my decision remains the sa."

My father studied again, longer this ti.

"And this person," he said, "is worthy of you?"

I paused.

That was a dangerous question.

Because I had no idea who "he" was.

"He is... very important to ," I said carefully.

That was vague enough to survive.

Sebastian let out a breath, almost like a scoff, though he did not say anything.

My father tapped his fingers lightly against the table, thinking.

"You realize," he said, "that if this is rely a fleeting feeling, you may co to regret it."

I nodded.

"I understand and I will...never regret it."

Regret was better than execution.

By a wide margin.

"I am willing to accept that risk," I added.

That, at least, was honest.

The room fell quiet again.

But I could feel Sebastian’s sharp gaze very much directed at like I had personally offended his entire lineage.

I kept my eyes on my plate.

My very... interesting plate.

Extrely harmless plate.

Safe plate.

Because the mont I looked up, I was going to confirm what I was already sensing, and I was not emotionally prepared for that.

What was his problem now?

Didn’t he want this?

Wasn’t this the ideal outco?

I was literally handing him his freedom on a silver platter, and he was responding like I had just insulted him in five different languages.

I risked a glance only to see sothing in his expression that I couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t just irritation. It wasn’t just disbelief either.

It was... different.

Almost like he was trying to figure sothing out.

I quickly looked back down at my food.

Okay.

New concern unlocked.

Why does he look like that?

My brain started working through possibilities.

Did I say sothing wrong?

Probably.

But what specifically?

I said I don’t love him anymore.

That should have been good news.

I said I wanted to end the engagent.

That should have been great news.

I even invented a whole other person to justify it.

That should have been...

I paused.

Oh.

...Oh no.

I slowly froze in place.

Did it sound like I was replacing him?

I stared at my plate harder.

From his perspective, this might not look like "I am freeing you from an unwanted engagent."

This might look like "I found soone better."

I winced internally.

That... could be taken the wrong way very easily.

’...Right,’ I thought. ’That’s definitely the wrong way.’

I straightened slightly, trying to recover without making it worse.

"Just to clarify," I said carefully, not looking directly at him, "this decision is not ant to cause offense."

Smooth.

Very smooth.

Sebastian’s response was imdiate.

"It already has."

I blinked.

"...Oh."

That was honest.

Unhelpfully honest.

I finally looked at him properly.

"You never wanted this engagent," I said, keeping my voice steady. "So I assud this would be... agreeable."

His gaze did not soften.

"That does not an I appreciate being dismissed," he replied.

I paused.

Dismissed?

I frowned slightly.

"That was not my intention," I said.

"Then what was your intention?" he asked.

Ah.

That is a very dangerous question.

I held his gaze this ti, choosing my words more carefully.

"To correct a decision that should not have been made in the first place," I said.

That was the truth.

At least, my version of it.

Silence followed.

He did not respond imdiately, but the tension shifted instantly, like my answer had landed and he did not fully accept it.

My father watched the exchange quietly, more amused now.

I exhaled slowly.

This was exhausting.

All I wanted was to not die.

Instead, I was accidentally offending powerful n.

I lowered my gaze again.

’...This is already going terribly,’ I thought.

"If you may excuse , father... I wish to go do my chores," I said, forcing a small, awkward laugh as I pushed my chair back and stood up.

Both of them paused, looking at weirdly.

"Chores?" my father repeated, clearly confused. "Since when did you have chores, my dear?"

I froze mid-step.

Right.

Of course.

Why would the spoiled daughter of a powerful duke have chores?

That was a very valid question.

One I was not equipped to answer.

I smiled.

"Personal chores," I said vaguely, already backing away. "Very important ones."

That sounded believable.

Probably.

Before either of them could question further, I turned and walked out of the dining hall with what I hoped looked like dignity.

It did not feel like dignity at all.

The mont I stepped into the hallway and the doors closed behind , I let out a long breath.

"Okay," I whispered. "That went... not well."