Mirielle wiped the corners of her eyes delicately, voice trembling with vulnerability.
"You’re not... deceiving , right? You’re not playing with ?"
Kael froze.
Not because he was caught.
But because how dare she question his performance.
He had poured emotional nuance into that fake confession.
Perfect posture.
Quivering voice.
The exact right amount of eye moisture.
Oscar-worthy.
And now this woman—this amateur stage flirt—was accusing him of faking?
He was the fake.
Professionally.
Kael’s smile faltered.
His voice dropped, cool and low.
"You... doubt my love?"
There was a soft, almost imperceptible edge in his tone—a quiet threat wrapped in velvet.
Mirielle blinked, startled. A cold chill crept down her spine.
"No, no! Of course not, my lord!" she rushed out.
"It’s just... it all happened so fast—"
Kael turned his gaze back to her, expression wounded, like a fallen angel nursing a broken wing.
"Miri," he said softly, "We were fated to et. Don’t you feel it?"
She looked up, lips parted, caught off-guard by his conviction.
Such sincerity.
Such passion.
Such absolute, soul-shattering manipulation.
She was stunned into silence.
But then, hesitation crept into her voice again.
"My lord... what do we do now? You’re engaged to the princess. And my mother..."
Kael leaned closer, lowering his voice into a conspiratorial whisper.
"Why don’t we discuss this sowhere... more private?"
He flashed a wink.
Mirielle’s heart fluttered.
The aning behind his words was clear as sunlight.
And for a mont, she flushed crimson.
But then—anxieties stirred.
Was this too sudden?
Kael leaned back, letting the silence stretch just enough before adding with a calm, reassuring tone:
"Don’t worry. I won’t harm you.
We’ll just talk... about how to convince your mother."
Ah.
She exhaled, visibly relieved.
So it wasn’t what she feared.
Or hoped.
Still, she nodded, smile returning.
"O-okay."
They stood and left the inn side by side, her hand brushing close to his, her steps lighter than before.
And behind them, floating just above the tavern roof like a mischievous spirit?
Yue followed with bright eyes and a smirk.
"Oh boy," she whispered.
"This is going to be fun."
***
Outside the inn, Mirielle stood beneath the fading sky, arms folded tightly, fingers twitching at the stem of the wine bottle she still held like a love token.
It had been half an hour.
Thirty full minutes since Kael had whispered, "Just wait here—I’m making preparations."
She had nodded, breathless, convinced sothing romantic—no, montous—was about to unfold.
But now?
Her thoughts began to curdle.
Was it all just an act?
A cruel ga?
Did he leave here like a fool, laughing sowhere behind closed curtains?
Her lips tightened.
No.
No, she shook her head fiercely.
Kaelion was sincere.
His eyes... they couldn’t have lied.
Just as the spiral of self-doubt threatened to consu her—
A carriage rolled to a halt in front of the inn, sleek and polished, with the subtle gleam of noble wealth.
The door opened.
Kael sat inside, bathed in warm lamplight, looking up at her with that sa soft, unreadable gaze.
"Co, my lady," he said, voice low and inviting as he extended a hand.
Mirielle exhaled, relief flooding her chest like warmth after frostbite.
He ca back.
He chose .
She stepped into the carriage, smiling—utterly unaware that she was making the worst mistake of her life.
The carriage rolled through the city like a whispered secret, smooth and silent.
Inside, Kael and Mirielle spoke in low, dreamy tones.
She laughed too often.
He smiled too easily.
To the world, they looked like lovers.
To Yue—silently hovering atop the roof—it looked like a theater play written by a drunk poet.
"I deserve a raise," she muttered to no one.
They arrived at their destination:
A sprawling estate-turned-hotel, known for catering to only the highest tier of nobility.
Gilded walls.
Crystal lanterns.
Guards in embroidered uniforms.
The kind of place where nobles didn’t just stay—they announced themselves.
Kael helped her down from the carriage with the elegance of a prince.
Mirielle’s cheeks flushed as he offered her his arm, and together they ascended the marble steps.
Inside, golden light spilled across polished floors.
Their suite was on the top level—spacious, lavish, and much too romantic.
The mont the door clicked shut behind them, silence settled in.
They sat on the edge of the bed.
A pause.
Not awkward—but loaded.
The curtains swayed faintly from the open balcony.
The scent of roses drifted in from the night garden.
Sowhere, a harp was playing.
And Mirielle?
She was starting to panic.
Now that both their masks were off, Mirielle could see his face clearly—this close, it was almost unfair.
Chiseled. Sharp. Striking.
But it wasn’t the symtry of his features that held her breath hostage.
It was his eyes.
Black.
Not just dark—black.
Depthless.
Quiet.
Like the void between stars.
And he hadn’t said a single word since they’d entered the room.
Just sat there.
Still.
Watching her—or maybe watching sothing far beyond her.
Lost in thought.
Or waiting.
Mirielle’s mind had gone completely blank.
Her hands clenched the fabric of her dress.
She’d read about monts like this.
Dread of them.
But now that it was real—Kael, this room, this silence—her breath caught in her throat.
She didn’t know what to say.
Didn’t know what to do.
The room had gone quiet—too quiet.
Her heart pounded in her ears like a war drum.
Kael stood up.
She flinched. "A-ah—my lord—"
But the next mont shattered her completely.
He knelt.
One knee.
Perfect posture.
Head bowed.
Like a knight in a painting.
Like a lover in a fairytale.
Mirielle gasped, hand flying to her mouth, eyes wide and unblinking.
She had officially passed the point of no return.
From his space ring, Kael drew out sothing glinting—a bracelet.
Delicate. Silver.
Black crystal inlaid in its center, pulsing faintly like a heartbeat.
"Miri," he said softly, his voice low, tender, full of trembling sincerity.
"I know this is sudden, but... I think I’m completely in love with you."
Her eyes watered.
"You’re everything I’ve ever wanted.
You’re my type—my soul’s echo.
And I think... I think you feel the sa."
He held out the bracelet with both hands like it was holy.
"This... is my token of love.
Please... accept it."
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