Alia was convinced of Rupert’s feelings.
She believed that the aning behind the pink dahlia she had given him during a dinner invitation at her estate represented Rupert’s true emotions.
"I am glad to know your heart."
For Alia, this was nothing less than the perfect signal, a response to her willingness to abandon her position as her family’s heir to be with him.
"Weekdays are impossible."
Knowing she could never yield Rupert to Iolin, Alia was devising a plan to take the first step herself.
Since she was confident of their mutual feelings, what remained was the confirmation process.
To accomplish this, she felt they needed ti alone—hence her preparation for a date.
"Confession is just like a seal of confirmation, my lady."
Inexperienced in such matters, Alia sought advice from her maid, who had a wealth of experience in romance.
After recounting everything that had transpired with Rupert from her own perspective, the maid offered a simple conclusion:
Based on Rupert’s actions, it was clear to the maid that he had feelings for Alia. However, his shy nature seed to hold him back.
"Is that so?"
Reflecting on the maid’s analysis, Alia tried to recall if Rupert was indeed reserved, but she rembered him as being rather proactive.
"I’m certain, my lady! There are more timid n than you think. You need to set the mood."
The maid firmly insisted on her analysis and urged Alia to create an opportunity for them to be alone together.
"How could soone who made a fairy tale book inspired by you, defended your mistakes, gave aningful remarks, and even gifted you flowers feel nothing? It’s ridiculous!"
Seeing Alia’s uncertainty, the maid launched into a passionate monologue. Listening to her, Alia’s confidence returned.
"Usually, there are club mbers around, or when we manage to set plans, his siblings are there ruining the atmosphere."
Alia thought back to how she was the first of the three won to et Rupert and felt certain that she understood his heart better than anyone else.
"First, we’ll have tea at a café in the capital over the weekend. Then we’ll head to the Imperial Arboretum for a walk."
Weekdays were out of the question—Alia had her academy classes, and Rupert had lectures to give.
Their only ti together was during the manga club’s activities, but it was hard to set the mood with others around.
That’s why Alia planned to set up a weekend eting and take a stroll with Rupert through the arboretum.
The Imperial Arboretum was expensive to visit, aning commoners rarely went there except on special occasions. Nobles, too, tended to linger only near the entrance.
Alia blushed at the thought of walking deeper into the arboretum with Rupert, where no one could interrupt the romantic atmosphere that would naturally arise.
Missing this chance could an losing Rupert to Iolin—or worse, Zinnia. The urgency of the situation drove her determination.
"Confess! If you don’t, I will!"
Her current mindset was simple: if it doesn’t work, make it work.
"This? Alia made it for , and it’s incredibly convenient," Rupert had said.
"It’s one of his most cherished items."
Zinnia recalled Rupert ntioning the pen he treasured during one of their recent etings.
"A magic pen."
Zinnia recognized it imdiately—it was an item Alia had submitted as an assignnt for her magical engineering class.
Having inspected and suggested improvents for the pen herself, Zinnia instantly understood its origins.
"I need to be useful too."
Zinnia could tell how much Rupert valued the magic pen and how grateful he was to Alia for making it.
Watching Rupert’s reaction, Zinnia chastised herself for not thinking of it first. Magic was her specialty, yet she hadn’t used it to make anything Rupert needed.
"That’s a failure by my standards!"
By Zinnia’s—or any objective—standards, the magic pen was a failure.
Few, including her ntor Yustaf, could use it effectively. Even Zinnia herself struggled to handle it properly.
"It’s a sha that only I can use it. It would be wonderful if other creators could benefit from this pen as well."
Zinnia rembered Rupert expressing regret that his workshop mbers couldn’t use the pen, even though it worked perfectly for him.
"I’ll create a magical tool that anyone can use and make Rupert love for it!"
Her new goal was clear: she would create a magical item that everyone could use and that Rupert would treasure.
"Sothing that would be helpful... a person, perhaps? Soone to assist with initial drafts or finalizing completed manuscripts would be ideal."
Casually probing Rupert about what he needed, Zinnia began forming an idea.
"Soone to help with illustrations? Perhaps I should make a golem."
Having learned from Yustaf, a master of golem creation, Zinnia had the skills necessary to construct such a magical assistant.
However, typical golems were too crude for the delicate work of drawing. She would need to redesign their structure and appearance entirely—a massive undertaking.
"I’ll need help."
Zinnia thought of the best collaborator for her project: Krune, the dwarf craftsman of the Sorset Workshop.
With Krune’s unparalleled craftsmanship, Zinnia was confident they could create the perfect golem.
"Zinnia! Why are you taking those?!"
Yustaf was horrified as Zinnia emptied his storage of rare ores and gems.
"I need them."
Ignoring Yustaf’s protests, Zinnia packed the materials into her subspace pouch.
"At least tell what they’re for!"
"For love."
Seeing the determination in Zinnia’s eyes, Yustaf realized there was no stopping her.
And thus, the Great Mage’s treasure-filled storage room—rivaling the Imperial Treasury—was raided in an instant.
"Clang!"
"Your skill has improved."
"I’m not the sa as I was before!"
The dull thud of wooden swords clashing echoed through the royal training grounds as Iolin and Edric sparred.
It should have been a foregone conclusion—Edric, who never stopped training, versus Iolin, who had set her sword down years ago.
But—
"What kind of insane sister is she?!"
Edric was startled as Iolin’s thrust broke through the defenses of his prized Marionette swordsmanship.
Though it was only a brief counterattack before Iolin’s stamina gave out and she conceded defeat, Edric couldn’t believe his eyes.
Even his Swordmaster ntor had said Marionette couldn’t be countered on first sight, yet Iolin had pierced through it in an instant.
"My stamina is weak, and my blade has dulled."
Unfazed by Edric’s shock, Iolin assessed her condition critically.
Once passionate about swordsmanship, she had lost interest and stopped practicing years ago.
"I can regain my edge by sparring with Edric for two weeks."
She believed that while her stamina needed work, her technique could quickly return to its peak by training against her brother.
"Why are you suddenly practicing swordsmanship again, Sister?"
Edric, dragged into sparring during his weekend visit to the palace, couldn’t help but ask.
Iolin was not one to revisit abandoned pursuits.
"To create sothing, one needs experience."
"What?"
"It’s for sothing I’m working on."
Caressing the wooden sword she had pulled from storage that day, Iolin pictured the intense battle scenes she was planning for Puppet Theater.
The next chapter required dynamic, visceral combat, but she hadn’t been satisfied with her initial drafts.
"It wasn’t enough."
To perfect her work, she decided to relive those monts herself, using her sword to capture the energy and movent she wanted to convey.
"He expects nothing less than the best."
She wanted to amaze Rupert, who always called her a genius, by creating sothing even he couldn’t imagine.
"If I’m as captivated by him as I am, I want him to be just as captivated by ."
Iolin knew better than anyone that her best weapon to win Rupert’s heart was her manga.
"And as for my impudent little brother…"
She glanced at Edric, who was still reeling from their sparring session.
Iolin had never forgotten how he had betrayed her and stolen her treasures.
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