Faced with Elizabeth's terrifying "choose-or-die" question, Fischer reacted as though he had weathered it a thousand tis before. His expression was placid as he turned to Lady Laofang with a smile.
"Both ladies' works are far too excellent. My poor literary eye could hardly render a fair judgnt... Lady Laofang, you are the authority in this domain — might I ask your opinion?"
Laofang's spectacles nearly slid off her face. She clearly hadn't expected Fischer to redirect the inferno her way.
Utterly speechless, she silently downgraded Fischer's rating another notch.
After a mont's hesitation — and rembering why she was here in the first place — she adjusted her glasses, deliberated carefully, and addressed Fischer.
"Ah, Your Highness Elizabeth's structure is elegant, her diction precise, and her imagery delightfully inventive. Lady Renee's arrangent of aning does carry considerable depth, but the vocabulary is admittedly straightforward. Privately, I would consider Your Highness's work the more accomplished."
"Sister's poem really is wonderful."
Laofang's verdict resonated with Isabel, and under two ladies' praise, the faintest smile appeared on Elizabeth's lips.
Fischer nodded. Beside him, Renee curled her lip in clear displeasure at Laofang's biased assessnt — probably cursing the partisan judge under her breath already.
He smiled silently and said.
"Since everyone prefers Your Highness's work, I suppose I have no choice but to favor Renee's — if only so my friend here doesn't feel slighted."
Elizabeth's smile froze. Renee pouted — secretly delighted but outwardly restrained. Had she possessed a tail like Raphaela, it would have been wagging up past the clouds.
'Not bad! Glad I didn't waste all that effort pampering this kid!'
That was approximately the sentint in Renee's gaze, though Fischer couldn't be bothered to acknowledge it — which made her bristle, eager to kick him in the rear. But then she rembered she was currently playing the saintly holy maiden and squashed the urge.
So instead, she coughed delicately, made a magnanimous prayer gesture, and laughed.
"Compared to Your Highness Elizabeth's work, I pale in comparison. I concede defeat."
Renee accepted her loss with a smile, but she had never cared about who wrote better poetry. On the surface Elizabeth had won the verse contest, but in substance she had lost spectacularly — because everyone knew the answer she truly wanted was Fischer's.
Elizabeth's hand, concealed at her side, clenched so tightly that her rosy fingertips turned white. A second or two later, the color returned to normal.
"Our poems were evenly matched to begin with. Asking Mr. Fischer to declare a winner was unfair of ... But this is a poetry gathering — you all should rember to exchange verses with one another as well."
Just as those words landed, an elegant elderly gentleman in a black suit ca walking over, leaning on a cane. The neatly grood white beard identified him as Kaine, the current chancellor of Saint-Nazareth University.
"Your Highness Elizabeth. Your Highness Isabel."
"Chancellor Kaine."
He bowed to Elizabeth, then beckoned to the wine-holding Fischer.
"Mr. Fischer, there are a few matters I need to discuss with you — regarding that paper of yours."
What Kaine wanted to discuss was presumably the impending Schwari academic delegation — sothing Elizabeth had already told him about. But he couldn't let on that he already knew.
A princess disclosing political affairs to outsiders was technically a breach of protocol — which was precisely why she had summoned him to the chapel for their conversation.
"Understood, Chancellor Kaine. After you. My apologies, Your Highness."
Before leaving, Fischer caught Renee's eye and gave her a look that said "behave yourself." Her violet gaze clearly registered the signal. She discreetly flashed an "understood" gesture.
The mont Fischer departed, that docile, obedient look evaporated. She glanced at Elizabeth, aggression practically radiating from every pore — only to find the princess looking right back at her.
Elizabeth sent Isabel and the girls off to exchange poems. Seizing the mont — free of Fischer and other distractions — she took a glass of wine and drifted over to Renee's side.
Both won wore warm smiles. Their wineglasses clinked softly. The air around them, however, might as well have been a cage-fighting arena.
"Renee... is it? I can't decide whether to marvel at how lax Kadu's code of celibacy has beco, or at how irresistible Fischer's charm is — there's always so presumptuous woman throwing herself at him with no regard for her own life. There have been such won in the past. Would you care to guess what beca of them?"
In the face of Elizabeth's threat, Renee's expression remained languid, seemingly unmoved.
"How frightening. Is the princess planning to have killed? Allow to point out — the more you do this, the more Fischer despises you... Or rather, let's be honest: Fischer can't bring himself to care for you in the slightest right now, can he? Let guess — the little princess did sothing wicked once, and Fischer found out."
"Heh. I don't even know whether you're a genuine Kadu holy woman. I have ample reason to suspect you're a spy and a fraud."
Renee sipped her wine, turned those violet eyes to Elizabeth, and smiled.
"The more you resort to these tactics, the more it proves you cannot win against in a fair contest. At the end of the day, the reason you threaten — or any other woman — is simply this: Fischer doesn't love you."
At the final sentence, Elizabeth's gentle pupils contracted ever so slightly, as if an old wound had been torn open without rcy.
"I know better than anyone how Fischer looks when he loves soone. When he cares about a person, he's sincere and infinitely patient. But you've never felt that, have you? You thought that by cutting off his ties to every other woman in Naris — making everyone aware of your 'relationship' so that no one would dare approach him — he'd eventually choose you by default?"
Renee's smile was leisurely, as though she weren't even taking the argunt seriously — yet each word was a blade driven into Elizabeth's heart, twisted and left lodged in the wound.
But how could Elizabeth argue back?
Others might not know, but the woman at the center of it all certainly did.
His courtesy and distance. Her own inability, shackled by royal dignity, to pursue him with true passion. They had arrived at twenty-eight locked in this stalemate. What ca next — thirty? Forty? Fifty? Until death?
Elizabeth could endure it indefinitely. But clearly, Fischer could not bear it any longer — otherwise he wouldn't be with another woman...
"You think you've won?"
At this thought, the emptiness in Elizabeth's eyes slowly dissolved, exposing the monstrous, terrifying thing concealed beneath it. It was the first ti she had lost composure in front of anyone. But she dimly sensed that the woman before her was not to be treated as an ordinary rival.
"What I want will be mine. Even if he himself is unwilling."
Renee's smile only deepened. Those calm violet eyes reflected Elizabeth's current form — yet she didn't seem to regard the princess as a threat at all.
"A word of advice, Your Highness: sotis letting go is not a bad choice. You might even find a better outco."
After those words, the contest was essentially decided.
Elizabeth was no match for Renee at all — reduced to stunned silence in an instant. But Renee didn't press further. Instead, she suddenly turned to look ahead.
She seed to spot sothing. Her violet eyes curved into crescents as she waved at a certain exasperated-looking gentleman walking toward her — Fischer had returned.
Both won instantly reverted to their previous poise and grace. Renee scarcely changed at all; she was simply livelier and more animated in Fischer's presence.
"The princess and I just had a wonderful chat about all sorts of fascinating things in Naris — things you never told ."
Fischer glanced at Elizabeth. She smiled serenely and nodded in agreent.
"Indeed. I learned so Kadu secrets as well — things one would never hear inside the Golden Palace."
"I see. Your Highness, shall we continue with the events?"
Elizabeth's warm golden gaze swept across Fischer's face. The vacancy in her eyes masked her true thoughts, leaving nothing but that flawless, angel-like smile.
She nodded. This ti, she did not take Fischer's arm. She simply walked alongside him to the next event.
The princess's schedule was packed. By mid-afternoon, Elizabeth had to depart for other engagents. Fischer walked her all the way to the university gates. Isabel and her friends ca to see her off, too.
Several rows of Royal Guard soldiers lined the entrance. A royal carriage waited, steady and imposing, before the school — an unmistakably grand affair. During this ti, all other visiting parents had to remain inside; simultaneous entry and exit was prohibited.
"Isabel, rember to study hard. I'm certain that with Mr. Fischer's guidance, you'll beco truly exceptional."
Isabel stole a glance at Professor Fischer beside her, involuntarily recalling his unforgiving classroom manner. Her little face nearly crumbled, but she rembered her royal training and managed a forced smile and a nod.
Elizabeth walked toward the opened carriage door. Only Fischer followed, preparing to see her off. In that mont, the distance between them narrowed; their words were audible only to each other.
Renee had not co outside, so Elizabeth did not see the annoying dark-haired woman here.
And so she turned to look at Fischer beside her. Watching him execute a textbook-perfect bow with not a single breach of etiquette, she felt her heart darken.
She reached out to him — and under Fischer's mildly surprised gaze, she straightened his collar, which had gotten slightly rumpled from the day's bustle.
"Thank you, Your Highness."
"Do you..." Elizabeth withdrew her hand quietly, sothing sorrowful in her gaze. "...really dislike that much, Fischer?"
Fischer's eyes trembled. He looked up at the princess. She was looking at him, too — at the Fischer hidden behind all that etiquette.
It was just the two of them now. Fischer thought for a second, and decided he was tired of the pretense in front of her.
"You're still fixated on what I did in the past, aren't you?"
The matter involved their ti at the Royal Academy. She had once delivered a severe "warning" to a female classmate who had tried to pursue Fischer — a warning that had nearly driven the woman to a nervous breakdown. At the ti, no one knew who was responsible, and no one would have guessed the culprit was the Crown Princess herself.
Outwardly refined and gentle, Elizabeth's actual conduct was vastly different from her appearance. That was the true reason Fischer kept his distance.
"Your Highness..."
"Back then, I didn't understand. Now I do. If that's the case... would you give a chance?"
Elizabeth went so far as to seize Fischer's sleeve. For a mber of the royal family to humble herself to this degree was staggering — but Fischer simply looked at her, unblinking.
"Your High—"
The air fell suddenly silent. Elizabeth was the one seeking the answer, yet the mont Fischer opened his mouth to give it, she reached out and stopped him.
Elizabeth smiled at Fischer, then placed the wide-brimd hat back over her golden hair, concealing her face once more.
"Thank you for today. Rember what I ntioned earlier. We'll see each other again."
She had beco the gentle Crown Princess once more — resuming the ambiguous, years-long, fruitless dance between herself and Fischer. Even though, just a mont ago, she might have finally received an answer.
That answer might have been good or bad. But in the end, she didn't dare to gamble.
She was leaving by carriage now.
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