Late at night, at the Crown Prince’s Palace.

Frederick, who had been reading the report, covered the paper with an irritated face.

It was because of the content that the number of nobles supporting Lucas had been gradually increasing lately.

‘This is troublesome, especially when Father has been showing more interest in my elder brother lately. At least for now, my elder brother doesn’t seem interested in the throne, but…’

You never know. If those around him encouraged him, there was a high chance Lucas would develop ambition. It meant that even the offspring of a mere royal consort, not even an empress, could dare to dream beyond their station.

Frederick, who sighed wearily with a sensitive expression, thought to himself without realizing it.

‘Nothing ever goes my way.’

If he traced back to when it all started, there was Demian’s appearance.

Ever since he suddenly married Arasila one day without any notice or precursor, cracks began to form in Frederick’s life, which had been smooth sailing until then.

‘Demian Vandermir, he was so conspicuously stuck to Arasila…’

The image of the two dancing beautifully like a painting at the welcoming party for the delegation and the scene of them holding hands intimately, closely attached to each other at the court concert, came to mind.

Frederick furrowed his brow in unbearable displeasure. He also disliked how Demian talked back to him every time they met.

Even when leaving after the concert ended, when their eyes met, he went as far as to wrap his arm around Arasila’s shoulder as if to provoke him.

At that time, he really felt a surge of anger, but Frederick endured it.

There was no need to publicly show the Crown Prince in conflict with the Sword Master at the New Year’s Festival. That wasn’t what he was aiming for.

‘Anyway, you won’t be able to act so arrogantly for much longer. This New Year’s Festival will be your last.’

Frederick, who had tried hard to soothe his boiling inner thoughts, checked tomorrow’s schedule. Suddenly, a good idea came to mind, and the corners of his mouth slightly lifted.

He rang the bell to call the attendant and said,

“Tell the young lord Vandermir to come see me quietly before the competition tomorrow.”

The equestrian competition held on the second day of the New Year’s Festival took place in the Katapi Forest, closest to the imperial palace.

News spread that there would be a special gift for the person who arrived first after circling the forest once.

Arasila, who wasn’t particularly tempted by that gift, chose to watch rather than participate in the competition. On the other hand, Demian decided to participate, living up to his name as the captain of the Red Hawk Knights.

“But what does being good at horseback riding have to do with being a knight captain?”

Arasila suddenly asked in the carriage moving towards Katapi Forest. Demian, who was looking out at the rapidly approaching forest, answered calmly.

“Usually, if someone is good with a sword, there’s a tendency to think they’re good at everything physical. There will be people expecting me to win today’s competition.”

“Hmm, you’re suffering unnecessarily because of people with narrow-minded thinking.”

“That’s true. At least it’s fortunate it’s not a sword fighting competition where there could be casualties.”

If it had been a sword fighting competition with royalty and nobles from other countries participating, it would have been more troublesome for Demian. There would have surely been at least one person insisting on facing the Sword Master.

The carriage stopped at the entrance of the forest. As they got off and walked inside, a wide space with tents set up here and there appeared.

Many people cast glances at the two who appeared dressed in matching blue clothes today.

“Oh, Lord Vandermir. I heard you’re participating in today’s competition. Do your best.”

“I hear you’re quite good at horseback riding? I once read an article about you riding a horse across a ravine.”

“This will be a chance to show off one of our empire’s top talents to people from other countries.”

Demian’s words about there being people expecting things from him were not wrong. There really were people coming to offer words of encouragement.

Arasila narrowed her eyes as she observed them and whispered quietly.

“It seems like some people are pretending to be overly friendly on purpose, or is it just my imagination?”

“It’s not your imagination. But it’s not something you need to worry about.”

Demian answered firmly. He had immediately noticed that most of the nobles who had approached them were supporters of Lucas.

Their intention to draw him to their side was clear, thinking he had brought down Duke Grant, the Crown Prince’s closest aide.

If Lucas had accepted his proposal earlier, it might have been different, but since he had indicated his refusal, Demian had no intention of getting involved with them either.

It could end up harming Lucas if he wasn’t careful.

“Participants, please come to the yellow tent in the east to receive your horses!”

At that moment, the voice of a royal attendant could be heard shouting loudly as he moved around here and there.

Demian excused himself, saying he would be back shortly, and left his spot. Arasila stood silently, looking around.

She noticed participants who had already received their horses warming up and bonding with their mounts in preparation for the competition.

‘Hmm, I guess it’s because there’s a special gift. Everyone looks quite serious.’

Despite it being a one-time event with a strong entertainment aspect, many participants showed enthusiasm.

As Arasila scanned the people with indifferent eyes, her gaze stopped on a young couple. Even from a distance, they exuded a lovey-dovey atmosphere.

“I’ll definitely come in first in today’s competition and dedicate the gift to you, my dear.”

“Don’t push yourself too hard, darling. Just your words make me very happy.”

The noblewoman with a bright smile drew close to her husband. She raised herself slightly on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek.

Smack.

Startled by the clear sound that rang out, Arasila turned her head. Such a public display of affection in a crowded place.

Just then, Demian, who had returned with a glossy brown horse, looked at her standing with her head unnaturally turned and wore a puzzled expression.

“My lady, why are you standing like that?”

“Ah, it’s nothing. How’s the horse? Does it seem alright?”

Arasila changed the subject quite naturally. Demian nodded lightly.

“Yes, it’s not bad. As expected of a horse managed by the imperial palace, it’s above average.”

Still, it would be unfamiliar and not as in sync as the horse he usually rides, but that was a condition equally shared by everyone.

Arasila reached out and stroked the horse’s neck. The horse with soft fur was docile even to the touch of a stranger.

It seemed to have an inherently gentle nature. Considering that some people were already struggling with their horses, this was quite a good horse to receive.

“The horse is very gentle.”

“Yes, that’s fortunate. There are quite a few horses that are picky about people.”

“That’s right. Fortunately, you won’t have any accidents like falling off…”

Interrupting Arasila’s peaceful voice, a tremendous sound was heard at that moment.

“Kiss? Kiss! Give me a kiss!”

Cough. Arasila, who had swallowed wrong, coughed lightly. Demian’s expression was also unusual, as if he had heard the same words.

Where they turned their heads in shock, there was a couple in exotic attire. They seemed to be a married couple who came as part of a delegation from another country.

The man with a thick, black beard spoke in a low, deep voice, using the empire’s language somewhat clumsily.

“I heard. In the Setron Empire, there is a custom of wives kissing their husbands’ cheeks or lips before a competition to cheer them on. Let’s do it too.”

“Yes, that’s fine.”

The woman kissed her husband’s cheeks and lips in turn with a smacking sound. It was a much louder sound than what Arasila had heard earlier.

The gazes of the two people, who had been blankly staring at that cringe-worthy scene, suddenly met.

“Uh…”

“…Ahem.”

Having vividly seen another couple kissing, an awkward atmosphere flowed between the two people for no reason.

Arasila kept brushing back her hair, which Audrey had carefully combed, and opened her mouth awkwardly.

“Um, did our country have such a custom?”

“…I’m not sure, but it doesn’t seem to be completely non-existent.”

Demian quietly looked to the side. Then, couples kissing each other’s cheeks or lips could be seen here and there.

All of them were accompanied by words of encouragement like “do well” or “come back safely.”

‘No, if it’s like this, it feels like I should do it too.’

Arasila inwardly screamed silently at the heavy burden settling on her shoulders.

If she just ignored it, it would be fine, but most of those invited to the New Year’s Festival were usually the heads of each family, so married couples were the absolute majority. Even among the delegations, many couples had come together to match this.

In other words, there were too many people implementing this custom of the empire that the two of them didn’t know about to ignore.

‘Should I do it? But Demian probably doesn’t like this kind of thing. I don’t want to force unwanted skinship.’

Arasila looked for couples who weren’t following the custom. Of course, there were such people.

The problem was that half of them were famous for having bad relationships, and the other half were types who had been married for a long time and had no interest in each other.

Arasila and Demian didn’t belong to either category, and even if they did, they were in a position where they couldn’t show it.

Demian, who glanced down at Arasila lost in thought about what to do, slowly rubbed the back of his neck. He opened his mouth slowly.

“My lady.”

“Yes?”

“…Would you do it?”

He requested carefully. So carefully that he omitted the subject and object, and it took Arasila a few seconds to understand what he meant.

“Um, is it okay if I do?”

“If it’s alright with you, I don’t mind.”

“I’m fine with it too, but…”

A kiss was a light skinship she had often done with family when young, so there was no aversion to it. But she had never done it to anyone else, especially to someone of the opposite sex.

As Arasila hesitated a little, Demian slightly bent his waist and tilted his face towards her. He had taken the initiative to approach first.

‘I can’t miss such a good opportunity.’

It was a golden moment to fully satisfy his selfish desires.

With his ears turning red from anticipation and excitement for a cheek kiss that would be nothing special to an ordinary couple, he tapped his cheek with his finger.

“I would appreciate it if you did it here.”

“This isn’t really something to be grateful for…”

Thinking that she was the only one hesitating unnecessarily, Arasila suddenly pulled Demian’s neck with courage that came from somewhere.

Soft, moist lips touched his cheek. It felt as soft as a cat’s paw.

Feeling his hair stand on end, Demian froze like a statue.

After a sound between a ‘smack’ and a ‘smooch’, Arasila detached her lips with her ears bright red.

“Do well, okay?”

Even to Demian’s encouragement, delivered in an uncharacteristically small voice due to shyness, he didn’t move. Only after a long while did he finally move and touch his cheek.

Seeing him caressing the spot where her lips had firmly pressed and left, Arasila became even more embarrassed and turned her head to look at something far away.

“Ahem, ahem, why is it so hot?”

As she was fanning herself and muttering to herself for no reason, suddenly someone caught Arasila’s eye.

The same silver hair as Demian, slightly hunched shoulders, looking around with a petty appearance as he walked.

It was Oscar Vandermir.

He was heading towards the tents, somehow looking cautious of his surroundings. Realizing that direction was towards the red tents used only by royalty, Arasila furrowed her brows in curiosity.

‘People don’t usually pass by that area unless necessary.’

As she couldn’t take her eyes off Oscar’s back due to an inexplicable uneasiness, Demian cleared his throat softly and spoke.

“Thank you for cheering me on, my lady. Then I’ll be going now.”

“…What? Ah, yes. Be careful and do well.”

“Yes, my lady.”

Demian smiled faintly and left towards the starting line, pulling his horse. Participants were gathering there one by one and mounting their horses.

Arasila also moved to the tent prepared near the starting line and found a spot with the clearest view.

“We will start the competition soon! Participants, please get ready!”

An attendant holding a white flag announced loudly. Demian mounted his horse and adjusted the reins, preparing to ride out.

It was then that an unwelcome person approached him.

When he arrived in front of the red tent, Oscar took a deep breath in excitement. His chest swelled and then deflated.

With a face mixed with anticipation and nervousness, he addressed the curtain draped inside the tent.

“It’s me, Oscar Vandermir.”

Then the curtain smoothly parted to both sides. As Oscar stepped inside, the attendants holding the curtain slipped out.

Only Oscar and Frederick, who had called him, remained in the spacious tent.

Facing the Crown Prince who stood with his hands behind his back, Oscar spoke in a voice full of emotion.

“Thank you so much for calling me, Your Highness. I’ve heard a lot about you from my father. From a young age, you were wise and born with the qualities of an emperor, so everyone is certain you will be the next emperor…”

“You don’t resemble your father much.”

A gentle voice promptly cut off Oscar’s words. Frederick slowly turned around and looked at him, pulling only his lips.

“Not just in appearance, but also in talking unnecessarily too much. At least Duke Vandermir knows how to restrain his words tactfully.”