Even my mother, who had always treated Tristan like an unwelco necessity, couldn’t reject him now. With a slightly bewildered expression, she nodded.
“Of course—”
“Excuse .”
Tristan extended his arm as if to escort . A silent instruction to place my hand there.
His voice was urgent, yet he followed the formalities with perfect elegance. As expected of a prince.
Still, this situation was oddly amusing.
Feeling like I was playing a role, I placed my right hand on his arm.
“Yes, Your Highness. I would be honored.”
“…”
Tristan didn’t move imdiately. Instead, he stared at my hand on his sleeve for a long mont, as if sothing fascinating had just happened.
What? Was I funny or sothing?
“Your Highness?”
“…Let’s go.”
“Where are we—ah, wait, too fast!”
I take back what I thought earlier—about him being all graceful and composed! He strode forward so quickly that when he must have decided I wasn’t keeping up fast enough, he just grabbed by the waist and carried along.
At this point, it wasn’t an escort, it was straight-up transportation!
This ridiculous pace only stopped when we reached a door at the end of a quiet, empty corridor.
Had he dragged too far?
“Your Highness? This place is…”
“The end of the hallway for the event hall.”
I can see that.
“And what exactly did you need to tell that required dragging all the way here?”
“Well… first of all, I enjoyed the performance. Especially the well-tid script revisions, which really shone.”
“Thank you!”
It was a complint that genuinely made happy.
As my expression brightened, he smiled briefly before continuing.
“The original script was already oozing with outdated clichés just from the titles alone. But the way you slowly built up the thes through the first two songs, then exploded into satire with the third—that was brilliant.”
“That’s the best complint I’ve heard all night.”
“Your singing was beautiful as well. I appreciated how you didn’t push your voice beyond its natural range and instead focused on conveying the lyrics and nuances with weight. But more than anything, I just found your voice beautiful.”
“You’re flattering too much.”
How many tis was he going to call my voice beautiful? It was getting overwhelming.
I knew my singing ability was nothing extraordinary—more like soone who had ignored music classes for years and then got suddenly volunteered for an office choir competition.
Of course, I had practiced, so I wasn’t bad. But this much praise still felt excessive.
That said… even if it was over the top, it wasn’t unpleasant.
As I smiled slightly, Tristan spoke again.
“And even after collapsing… you got back up and walked. Gracefully.”
“…”
“You recovered quickly. No doubt, your usual eating habits played a major role in helping you overco that crisis.”
Was this the ‘You’re good at breathing’ tier of complints?
It was ridiculous.
But for so reason, I wasn’t annoyed.
Because the way Tristan looked at —completely serious, almost earnest—made it clear he ant what he was saying.
If he was just teasing , he wouldn’t be putting this much effort into sounding sincere.
It was like he was reaching into the depths of his mind, grabbing every complint he could find, and offering them all to .
Honestly, considering his personality, it wasn’t surprising that he had zero natural talent for giving heartfelt praise.
Still… thanks.
More than anything, I genuinely appreciated the complint about my script revisions.
I waited until I was sure he had exhausted all the ‘I tried really hard to prepare good words’ complints before speaking.
“Thank you. You really noticed a lot today.”
“It’s not just today.”
“What?”
“I’ve been watching all along. The things you always do. And the things you showed for the first ti today. All of them were beautiful. It took too long to say it, but I wanted to now.”
“…”
Tristan had always spoken without hesitation, his words striking down like hamrs.
But now, his voice stuttered slightly—like a cart rattling over uneven ground.
And it wasn’t just his voice that faltered at the last word.
For a brief mont, my heart did too.
“Doris Redfield.”
“Yes…?”
“Today, you played a proud and haughty lady on stage. I have a request for you to continue acting.”
“What kind of acting?”
“The role of my fiancée.”
Acting.
Fiancée.
The two words echoed in my head.
Wait. Was this one of those nonsense fake engagent setups? Like pretending to stay engaged for so stupid reason, only to eventually break it off?
That’s a classic plotline for a terrible male lead in a reincarnation or transmigration novel! And even in those, it’s the heroine who usually suggests it—not the male lead!
“Your Highness. Are you saying…”
Thankfully, Tristan did not break new ground in being a garbage human being.
“We haven’t exactly lived like normal fiancés. No casual als, no strolls, not even exchanging letters. …Because of .”
“…I can’t deny that.”
“I want to change that.”
“What?”
“I want to attend parties with you. Go on walks by the lake. Maybe even take a trip to the countryside for a picnic. Things we’ve never really done together.”
“…”
“It might feel burdenso at first. But for this entire season, I want you by my side. So that everyone will be able to see that you are my lady.”
He grasped my hand tightly. The pressure tingled through my fingertips like a static shock.
“Your Highness. Acting as your fiancée—”
“It’s an excuse. A way to force sothing that’s been broken for too long back into place.”
“…”
“I don’t care if I seem pathetic. Even if it’s just an act…”
“…It doesn’t need to be an act.”
My heart, which had plumted at the thought of a fake engagent, finally settled back into place.
It was okay.
“I am your fiancée. Now and always.”
“Doris… Thank you.”
He murmured the words as he reached out with his left hand and grasped my right arm.
The bouquet I had been clutching felt like it would slip from my grip, but Tristan didn’t even glance at it. His eyes were fixed solely on .
I had always thought of his blue eyes as like gemstones.
But now, they looked like an ocean, vast and consuming.
“In truth, I knew you would answer like that.”
“Your Highness…”
“This engagent only needs to last through this season. Because after that, the only thing left is the conclusion that all betrothed couples must reach.”
The conclusion of an engagent.
Marriage.
Of course.
But sohow, the words finally felt real.
Marriage ant that his life would be bound to mine.
More than anything, it ant I had to accept the emotions reflected in his eyes.
Even though I wasn’t entirely sure what those emotions were.
He called many sides of beautiful…
But did that an it was love?
Right now, he looked like a child, desperate to keep hold of his favorite toy.
My body trembled slightly. A strange fear gripped .
And yet, the biggest problem wasn’t my hesitation.
It was that—despite my doubts and uncertainty—
I couldn’t bring myself to push his hand away.
Between us, the bouquet I held was slowly being crushed. The mingling scent of countless flowers overwheld my senses.
My mind felt hazy.
But even if every petal crumpled under the pressure of our hands, right now, I—
"Ahem!"
A sudden cough echoed down the corridor.
I imdiately stepped back from Tristan.
But he let go only briefly—then, as if by instinct, reached out again and grabbed my wrist.
“Your Highness! Soone’s coming!”
“…Is there a problem with standing here with my fiancée?”
“This is different!”
As we bickered in hushed voices, the approaching footsteps never hesitated, turning the corner without a single pause.
Thankfully, it was soone even Tristan had to show respect to.
The Crown Princess.
She smiled at .
“So this is where the leading lady was hiding. I was just about to gather the ladies for a tea break—care to join ?”
“Yes, yes!”
“And Prince Tristan…”
“…I was just offering to carry my fiancée’s flowers.”
“How thoughtful. Then I leave it to you, Your Highness.”
In the end, Tristan had to gather all the bouquets I had been holding.
What had been an armful for fit neatly into one of his arms.
“I’ll have them sent to the Redfield estate by tonight.”
“Thank you.”
“I’ll be adding the most beautiful bouquet to the collection—so look for my letter inside.”
Tristan whispered the words into my ear before stepping back.
I felt my face heat up all over again and quickly rushed to the Crown Princess’s side.
She spoke leisurely.
“This performance was well-handled. I truly appreciate it. It’s sothing I could only say to you directly, but since I had entrusted the event to Prince Percival, I couldn’t interfere too openly.”
“I’m just relieved that you enjoyed it.”
“I always assud you were just a quiet lady. But you’re quite talented. I look forward to seeing what you bring to the royal family.”
“…Y-yes!”
Being recognized by a superior was genuinely gratifying.
If I let go of my attachnt to following the original novel’s plot, it seed like everything was falling into place.
I had earned my own rits.
Tristan was looking at alone.
But…
Is this really okay?
Especially Tristan.
The brownish pollen dust that had rubbed onto my dress from the crushed bouquet—
Sohow, it felt like a flashing red warning light.
Just what is it that you feel for ?
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