Lacrachan was enduring Kelita’s gaze, who was staring at him fixedly, with great discomfort. Under the low table, people were dancing, and right next to him, Gerard was conversing with nobles who had gathered around him like a swarm.

The air was murky, filled with smoke from the cigars being smoked by men and women sitting in chairs, making it look like the whole place was covered in fog.

“Why are you looking at me like that, Princess Kelita?”

In Lacrachan’s low-pitched voice, Kelita grinned and lifted her lips.

“I find it hard to believe that I’m seeing a Grand Duke like you at the royal palace.”

“Well, I’ve been to the royal palace before. Such things have happened occasionally in the past.”

“Still, it feels more special now.”

“Is that so?”

Lacrachan casually rested his chin, withdrawing even the gaze that had somewhat reached her.

One of his hands was under his chin, and the other was in the pocket of the leather vest he was wearing under his cloak.

“There’s nothing special anymore between Princess Kelita and me. I think you already know about it.”

“If there isn’t, we can create one.”

Kelita was smiling as if to say, ‘What’s the problem?’

“If you say you won’t get married, I can only push forward unilaterally.”

To Kelita’s provocation, Lacrachan’s head moved, and she chuckled, saying, “I haven’t agreed to that proposal because you haven’t.”

Lacrachan looked into Kelita’s deep brown eyes.

The landscape inside the dizzying room and the parallel butterflies twinkling within it overlapped with her eyes.

If, as he suspected, the person in front of him was the Empress, and she was receiving help from the Absolute Deity, then she was someone not to be underestimated.

“Perhaps you’ve heard, but His Imperial Majesty will soon hold our wedding ceremony.”

Kelita licked her red lips with her tongue.

“When I was young, I wanted to be your wife according to my wish. No, I will be. Grand Duke Lacrachan.”

As Lacrachan raised one eyebrow diagonally, Kelita responded with a cheerful voice.

“If I say I want it, I’ll make it happen. If it doesn’t, I won’t just stand by.”

“…?”

Kelita answered with a bright voice.

“I’ll tear you apart, torment you every second, make you want to die.”

Lacrachan muttered emotionlessly, “Why do you think I would easily fall for that?”

He turned his head as if there was no need to hear more.

“No. Not you. Bercheria.”

As soon as the words were uttered, Lacrachan’s smoothly extended eyebrows wrinkled.

“I can torment Bercheria as much as I want. I’m confident in that.”

Kelita continued with sparkling eyes.
“Vercheria is actually nothing. The power that the weather goddess has under a roof that can avoid thunder and rain is as good as garbage.”

There was no trace of any guilt or conflict on her face.

“I don’t care about droughts or blizzards, no matter what happens to the people. I know. Isn’t that right?”

Lacrachan looked at Kelita with a cold gaze.

The obsessive gaze of the woman who had been staring at him for a long time sent shivers down his spine.

It seemed like she firmly believed that Lacrachan, who couldn’t resist her threat, would marry her.

“Marry me. You don’t have to love me. Just spend the first night with me, eat with me, and sleep in the same bed as me. That’s enough.”

Kelita was casually saying things that would be moments of pain if she didn’t love him.

Lacrachan exhaled slowly.

Being with Vercheria alone made his heart race, and the fact that this woman was breathing with him seemed to tighten his throat.

“Do as you wish, Princess Kelita.”

Lacrachan stood up from the chair.

And he turned away as if he had no value to deal with.

It wasn’t Vercheria, who was silently enduring Kelita’s torment.

He knew better than anyone how strong she was.

“Duke Lacrachan!”

Ignoring Kelita’s voice, who called out desperately, Lacrachan moved on.

“There are a lot of things to do even if you don’t love.”

Kelita’s threat was so absurd that he burst into laughter.

He went over the words she had just said one by one.

“We’ve already eaten together, and the first night in the same bed?”

He shook his head nervously.

Rione, frozen stiff, alternately looked at Groovy and Vercheria before turning around as if escaping.

Even seeing that, neither of the two thought of catching Rione.

After her footsteps had moved away, Groovy sighed first.

“What on earth…”

But he didn’t know what to say.

Even though he had lived his whole life in prison, he was well aware of how peculiar his appearance was.

No matter how many magicians were captured, they all knew in detail about the golden hair.

For some reason, whenever a magician was chosen by Vercheria, it was said that they chose golden hair and golden eyes due to their pure lineage.

Over the years, as bloodlines continued to mix in various ways, people with similar characteristics sometimes appeared, but in the end, those who truly had golden eyes were said to be an extremely small number.