The flickering candlelight illuminated the cool autumn night.
"Is it a candlelight dinner this ti?"
The silver-haired Empress placed her hand on Shiayar’s, allowing him to lead her inside through the door.
Seeing the arrangent inside the living room, a glimr flickered in her eyes.
"I didn’t expect you to have such a sense of romance."
"As expected of my Prince Consort."
"It’s my honor to be praised by Her Majesty the Empress."
Shiayar smiled.
"I was a bit worried that you might find these details and so-called romance aningless, just a waste of resources."
"But now I see, I was overthinking."
Isadella took off her black gloves and hung them with her moon-white coat on the armrest of the living room sofa.
The dim candlelight on the dining table flickered unsteadily in the darkened air, swaying with the gentle breeze.
Similarly, it reflected in Isadella’s crimson pupils, like the light from a distant lighthouse on a dark ocean.
She thought for a mont: "How should I put it."
"If it were the old , I probably would have rejected or even resented these actions."
In the past, Isadella, as the iron-fisted Second Princess, pursued efficiency and profit maximization.
Just like when she t Shiayar previously, always dressed in that Black Vulture military uniform.
A romantic candlelight dinner and a al of compressed food and pill supplents were no different in terms of ’nutrient supplentation,’ with the latter even being more efficient.
But in reality, what woman wouldn’t yearn for romance, for that seemingly aningless yet heart-soothing sense of ceremony?
In the past days, her heart was bound by the education she received from a young age, by the shackles called ’Heir of the Empire,’ ’Candidate for the Throne,’ ’Second Princess.’
The expectant gazes from her father, from the royalist ministers, and the people made her regard the Empire’s rise and fall as her sole responsibility, binding it to herself alone.
Living like a mirror, embodying the perfect image of the ’Second Princess’ that could perfectly et everyone’s expectations.
As a result, the true heart of the girl nad Isadella von Freysberg outside the identity of the ’Second Princess’ was deeply suppressed.
Even she had nearly forgotten it.
"Until—"
Isadella smiled: "I t you."
Thus, outside the identity of the Second Princess, the nearly forgotten little girl nad Isadella ca alive again.
"Though clumsy..."
"I began trying to have expectations for the outside world, for others."
"To live not for the Empire, but for myself."
In truth, living for oneself, or to put it more bluntly—’selfishly.’
For most humans, even those of humble origins, it is rely an inherent nature.
Yet this nature, which all living beings are supposed to possess, only truly beca Isadella’s after more than twenty years.
"The leisurely heart of Chanting Flowers and Courting Butterflies, discussing gossip with a close friend, tossing and turning for every move of a loved one, buying romance novels from the Royal Book Society..."
"These are all things I should have done but never did."
Isadella watched the flickering candlelight on the dining table.
"It’s a pity that only now have I found that initial aspiration."
"But at my current age and identity, even though I’ve found it, wanting to do those things like a teenage girl seems a bit too late..."
"If I really did that, I fear I would be laughed at by the ministers and the elders in the Royal Family."
Her voice gradually softened.
Her words, seemingly laced with teasing laughter, yet carried an imperceptible sadness.
But soon, Isadella’s words were unceremoniously interrupted by Shiayar.
"No, it’s not too late at all."
Isadella looked back in amazent, only to find the solemnity in the eyes of the black-haired youth beside her that she had never seen before.
"Whether soone can do sothing doesn’t depend on your age or identity, or on how others view what you’re doing."
"It simply depends on whether you want to do it, nothing more."
Shiayar lazily reclined on the sofa, adopting a casual posture.
"You just said you wanted to live for yourself from now on, not for others."
"Why, in the blink of an eye, you’re back down a dead end again."
His fingers moved slightly.
In the next mont, a flash of silver light shimred.
The adorable little white ferret materialized on Shiayar’s shoulder.
Having sensed Shiayar’s instruction through the Soul Pact, Silver shot Shiayar a deep glance.
Though it wanted to smack its lazy owner with its fluffy tail, considering that it was a rare chance for its owner to shine in front of a woman, it reluctantly held back the impulse.
It gracefully leaped off the sofa, went to a corner of the living room, and opened a double-door tal box.
As the door opened, a rush of piercing cold hit the air.
Of course, for Silver, who was born in the snowy plains of Ceylon, being of the snowy plains ferret race, the cold only felt quite comfortable.
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