After returning, Layla’s maid Alice shed tears of distress at the sight of the disheveled room, lamenting if this was the treatment Layla would receive for being engaged to Reynold.

Layla tried to comfort her, but inwardly she had similar thoughts. As a precaution, she locked the door whenever she was alone in the room.

Although she worried if this was appropriate, she desperately wanted to avoid being alone with Reynold.

For some reason, fortunately, Reynold seemed to have lost interest in Layla afterward. Perhaps he had found another woman. Maybe that’s why he lost interest in Layla.

If that were truly the case, it would be fortunate. However…

‘To think I have to marry such a person.’

And the engagement ceremony is tomorrow.

Tomorrow, she would have to announce their special relationship in front of everyone.

Being a royal engagement, it would undoubtedly be difficult to break off, and even if attempted, it would immediately escalate into a diplomatic issue.

Contemplating these practical concerns, Layla bit her lip. Her eyes fell on Reynold, who was ostentatiously dancing with someone else on the dance floor.

The moment she caught sight of him, her heart began to race as if she’d become faint-hearted.

Just before their eyes could meet, Layla turned her head and spoke to the maid beside her.

“I’m feeling unwell and need to go outside. Perhaps to the garden. It shouldn’t be a problem if it’s just for a moment, right?”

“Yes, Your Highness. Everyone’s busy eating and chattering anyway.”

Layla nodded slightly.

“I’ll be back soon… Please keep watch over my seat.”

“Understood.”

After instructing her maid, she rose from her chair. Opening a side door of the banquet hall, she stepped out onto a marble-paved terrace.

A few others who had already grown tired of the atmosphere inside were out there, and when Layla appeared, they began to glance at her. Then they started whispering among themselves.

Probably not very pleasant things.

An unremarkable 7th prince engaged to an equally unremarkable princess from another country. Layla knew they were in a position ripe for ridicule.

Trying her best to ignore their gazes, Layla left the terrace and entered the adjoining garden. As she was slowly walking, enjoying the sound of grass crunching underfoot, she heard a rustling nearby and startled.

Turning her gaze towards the sound, she was even more shocked.

She caught a glimpse of a man and woman embracing and kissing behind a large tree. Moreover, the man was…

‘The 1st Prince… wasn’t it?’

She recalled meeting him on her first day in the Filmer Kingdom. However, the person he was kissing was not the 1st Prince’s wife.

Having witnessed a scene she shouldn’t have, Layla quickly retreated. As she did so, she misstepped on a stone, and feeling her shoe heel slip, she inwardly screamed.

‘Ah, no…!’

If she caused a commotion, they would realize she had been spying on them!

In that instant, various thoughts raced through her mind.

What if the 1st Prince, caught in adultery, tried to harm her? What if Reynold was mistreated by that person again and then turned violent towards her? This time, there would be no one to help…

But just as she thought she would fall flat onto the lawn, something supported her from behind, preventing her from collapsing.

Realizing immediately that it was a person, Layla’s eyes widened. Looking up, she saw a man’s face.

“…!”

As she was about to make a sound, the man pressed his index finger to his own lips. It was a sign to stay quiet.

Thanks to this, Layla managed to stifle her voice. Soon after, she was led away by the man, who took her hand and pulled her along. Not towards the terrace leading to the banquet hall, but along a different path in the garden.

Crunch, crunch.

The sound of two pairs of feet quickly crossed the garden. The man occasionally glanced sideways at her, as if worried she might fall.

When they had put some distance between themselves and the others, reaching the center of a wide garden where a fountain was spraying water refreshingly, Layla requested of the man.

“C-could you let go of my hand? Lord… Millay?”

Only then did Millay come to an abrupt stop. After a brief pause, he turned to face Layla.

His clean-cut face, illuminated by the bright light streaming through the windows of the banquet hall building, wore a slight smile.

“You even remembered my name?”

His voice, parting his lips, was gentle. It had sounded quite sharp and cold when he was dealing with Reynold last time.

For some reason, his words seemed quite friendly towards her, causing Layla to blush slightly.

“W-well, yes, I unintentionally overheard your conversation…”

It was ambiguous whether that situation could truly be called overhearing.

As she lowered her head, trailing off, Lord Millay looked down at her intently before revealing his full name.

“Adrian Millay.”

“Pardon…?”

“That’s my name, Princess of Wessex.”

With that, Lord Millay lifted Layla’s gloved hand and gently kissed her fingertips as a sign of reverence.

Layla’s hand trembled slightly. Clear agitation was reflected in her blue eyes. It wasn’t solely because of his lips touching her hand.

“Adrian.”

It was because his name reminded her of someone.

As Layla unconsciously repeated the name, the man smiled gently, his eyes curving as if he knew what she was thinking.

“Ah, I suppose it’s because my name is the same as that of the Imperial Crown Prince.”

“W-well, it could just be a coincidence…”

As she answered, Layla felt her heart pounding. She couldn’t hide her flustered appearance and even stumbled over her words, but it couldn’t be helped.

The Crown Prince of the Hankin Empire, Adrian Pinter Raines.

He was the second-in-command of the Hankin Empire, a venerable country that had maintained its power for nearly 500 years and established itself as the hegemon of the Damvernant continent. He was a psychokinesis ability user, inheriting the bloodline of the imperial family.

And once, the Duke of Wessex, who operated his duchy while receiving benefits from the Empire, broke away from the Empire and founded the current Kingdom of Wessex.

Thus, to the Hankin Empire, Wessex was essentially a nation of traitors, but on the surface, they maintained their own semblance of peace.

This was because the Empire couldn’t help but need Wessex’s coordination abilities.

Of course, Layla’s father made compromises to a certain extent, such as marrying off his daughters to other countries, but he didn’t do so with the Hankin Empire.

It was the Wessex King’s belief that this was the only card a small kingdom had in negotiating with a vast empire, and thus shouldn’t be given up easily.

Layla herself wasn’t sure if this was the right decision.

In fact, she worried that if they pushed too hard, the Hankin Empire might use it as an excuse to crush them, but she had never voiced this opinion to her father.

‘He would just say I’m always being so negative…’

Perhaps they should be grateful that the Hankin Empire was being gentlemanly.

In truth, Layla wondered why they, with all their power, bothered to hold back, and because of this, the kingdom’s situation always felt precarious to her.

It had been just over 10 years since the kingdom was established.

Compared to neighboring countries, Wessex was a too small and weak kingdom with nothing to boast about except for the royal family’s rare bloodline.

One that could collapse at any time.

Sometimes she thought it might become an ill-fated kingdom whose lineage ends with the first king.

Living with this anxiety is the fate of traitors.

And among the people of Wessex, Layla felt this most acutely.

Adrian.

It was she who had betrayed him, the Crown Prince of the Empire.

Layla clasped her hands together, fidgeting incessantly.

She had wanted to thank the man before her, to say that even though he might not have intended it, she was grateful for his help in safely overcoming the situation last time, but she had forgotten even that, so uncomfortable had this situation become.

Perhaps noticing her discomfort, Lord Millay gently called out to her, who seemed lost in thought.

“Princess?”

Layla took a sharp breath.

Being completely lost in thought in front of another person was certainly very rude.

Quickly composing herself, Layla smiled faintly.

“I’m sorry, Lord Millay. I should be getting back now…”

As she spoke, she adjusted her dress and prepared to say goodbye. But Lord Millay smoothly interjected while she was mid-sentence.

“Princess, I hope you won’t misunderstand what I’m about to say, though it may be very presumptuous of me.”

At his cautious tone, Layla wore a puzzled expression.

“Do you have something you wish to tell me?”

“I’ve been bothered by the situation from before. To be honest, I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind since then.”

“Ah…”

“Wessex originally had its roots in the Hankin Empire, and I too, though temporarily staying here, originally come from the Empire… Broadly speaking, doesn’t that make us from the same hometown?”

“I see.”

She didn’t understand why he was suddenly talking about their origins. Was he seeking some sort of connection?

Layla responded halfheartedly, trying to wrap up the conversation quickly. But after hearing Lord Millay’s next words, she found she couldn’t.

“Surely you’ve heard the rumors about Reynold, the 7th Prince of Filmer. Well, judging by what we just saw, it seems there’s more than one rake in this royal family.”

As he spoke, Lord Millay slightly raised the corner of his mouth. It was clearly a sneer. Somehow, his blue eyes also began to take on a chilly light.

Layla quickly glanced around before lowering her voice.

“Lord Millay, such talk…”

Shouldn’t you refrain from it?

It was absolutely not something to say in front of his fiancée.

However, Lord Millay’s tongue knew no bounds.

“Princess, do you really intend to marry such trash?”