Chapter 10.7

“…You didn’t, right? Haha… You didn’t Duke Dronia about that, did you?”  

Syria bit her lip, barely moving her mouth. Her face was on the verge of crumbling with anxiety, but Alpen just tilted his head and smiled, making her want to contradict the saying that you can’t spit at a smiling person.  

Alpen pressed his index finger to Syria’s forehead.  

“You haven’t even married yet, and you’re already getting wrinkles. Isn’t that a problem?”  

‘Who do you think is causing them?’  

The touch felt unusually natural today. Even though he wasn’t pressing hard, his hand kept pushing her head back.  

‘Huh…? Why does this feel strangely unpleasant?’  

Maybe it was because of some lingering resentment—his playful gesture felt oddly like scolding a child.  

‘Is he acting like I’m already his woman?’  

Syria almost shook off his hand, but hesitated.  

“Those two are together.”  

“They look very close.”  

Even though the whispers were quiet, Syria’s ears, always sharp for gossip about herself, caught them. Even seated in the farthest corner of the wide banquet hall, Alpen’s dazzling presence drew attention from everyone nearby and even those farther away. Actually, it seemed people were looking more at Alpen and Firenze behind her.  

‘Everyone’s just captivated by their looks…’  

If she had to pick the three most striking men at this banquet, it would be Alpen, Firenze, and the eternally youthful Duke Dronia.  

She’d entered with one, and the other two were beside her, so it was impossible not to draw attention. Syria lifted the corners of her mouth and gave Alpen a friendly look.  

“Duke Alpen, people keep looking this way.”  

“Don’t worry. I’ll only look at you, my fiancée.”  

He spoke as if soothing a jealous fiancée, but his self-assured tone remained.  

“That’s not it. You’re too close.”  

Syria gripped the edge of her dress, which had gotten caught as Alpen sat, and pulled it hard. Alpen’s body tilted to the side for a moment, but he just widened his eyes and smiled kindly again.  

“Even a sulky fiancée is cute.”  

Ah… That buttery, sweet tone made her ears tingle and almost melt. His index finger, which she still hadn’t managed to grab, now approached her cheek.  

“Duke Alpen, that’s enough.”  

A hand shot out from behind and grabbed Alpen’s wrist, stopping him. It was Firenze, who’d been keeping his distance as a bodyguard. Unlike Alpen’s saintly smile, Firenze’s face was cold and expressionless.  

“Ha.”  

Alpen let out a short sigh and shook off the hand holding him.  

“I’ve felt this before, but my fiancée, your bodyguard is quite rude.”  

Though his words were aimed at Syria, his blue eyes were still fixed on Firenze. For some reason, he emphasized the word fiancée in every sentence, as if doing so on purpose.  

“Aren’t you uncomfortable Lady Syria?”  

Firenze, usually reserved, didn’t back down. The strange tension between the two made Syria step in, growling softly and separating them with her hands.  

“Why are you two like this all of a sudden?”  

If Syria hadn’t been there, something might have happened. She pushed the two apart, their eyes flashing warnings at each other before they moved away.  

“I wasn’t planning to give this here, but…”  

Alpen suddenly reached into his pocket. Syria looked on curiously as he pulled out an item and handed it to her.  

It was a small blue box tied with a red ribbon. It was so carefully wrapped that anyone could tell it contained something valuable.  

‘Wait, is this… that?’  

A small box given by a man to a woman—just like a proposal scene in a drama.  

“W-What is this?”  

“Open it.”  

Syria, still aware of Firenze’s gaze, pulled the ribbon. The knot came undone easily, and she had a feeling she knew what it was.  

She carefully opened the box and then the small case inside. With a click, the hidden item was revealed.  

“…A… ring…?”  

Even though she’d expected it, seeing the sparkling item made Syria stutter. It was a luxurious ring with a diamond so large she couldn’t guess its carat. Even though she accepted it reluctantly, she couldn’t help but be dazzled by the priceless jewel.  

“I had it specially made for you, my fiancée.”  

People watching nearby gasped. Anyone could tell at a glance how expensive it was.  

It was truly an item of immense value. Syria could guess why he was giving it to her, but to spend this much money…  

‘Male leads really go big.’  

But even for a male lead, this was hard to predict.  

‘Selling just this one would let me live in luxury…’  

Her heart wavered at the temptation of such a treasure. Even if she disliked marriage, the ring was nice.  

‘Should I just take the ring and close my eyes?’  

She felt like letting everything else go and just taking the ring.  

“Are you thinking of breaking off the engagement?”  

Even while she was lost in thought, the mention of breaking off the engagement snapped her back to reality. Her eyes stung from not blinking, so she closed them once and opened them to find Alpen, face handsome and backed by wealth, asking her.  

A good-looking man openly displaying his wealth—what woman wouldn’t be swayed? He was just like a male lead in a novel, perfect and adored by all. Alpen tilted his honey-colored hair.  

Ah… Reason told her to say something, but her mouth wouldn’t open. She needed to refuse, but couldn’t even muster the energy to throw the ring back.  

‘If only he wasn’t so narcissistic…’  

Even trying to think positively, Syria, knowing the original story, couldn’t just accept the ring. If she pretended not to know and accepted, everything would progress rapidly toward marriage.  

No matter how much the plot had changed, she was still anxious. The body’s owner had suffered deeply. Even if they lived as a show-window couple, seeing her husband with other women would never be easy.  

Just as Syria firmly decided to return the ring, a heavy trumpet sound cut through the hall, and the Emperor’s entrance speech echoed loudly. The lively banquet hall suddenly froze as if covered in frost.  

All the nobles bowed toward the second-floor platform overlooking the hall, not the entrance. Through the dark curtains, Karl’s sharp face appeared, wearing a navy tunic and black velvet vest, his black hair sensually falling.  

‘Wow… Even the Emperor dressed up.’  

He wore a black formal outfit that matched his hair, and the white cuffs on his wrist coordinated with his golden eyes. He looked as if he was dressed in a suit. The high white collar contrasted beautifully with his black hair.  

The Emperor’s eyes rolled and then landed on her.  

‘Huh…? Is he looking at me?’  

His golden eyes stared at her face, then fixed on the box she was holding.  

For some reason, his previously calm face suddenly twisted, as if in pain. Even from a distance, his expression was clear—he wasn’t hiding it at all.  

It happened in an instant.  

“Kyaa! Oh my!”  

“Y-Your Majesty?”  

“Oh my goodness.”  

The Emperor, standing on the second-floor platform, suddenly leapt over the railing and landed on the first floor of the banquet hall.  

Rather than falling, he landed lightly, almost as if he had wings. No one could help but be startled by the sudden event. Those looking up at the Emperor below screamed in surprise.  

Despite causing such a stir, the Emperor strode confidently straight toward her.  

‘W-What is he doing?’  

It was his own house, so whether he played around inside or slid down the stair railing, it was his business, but now was the time for an official banquet. Syria, too, was startled by the Emperor’s sudden actions. When the Emperor, who had approached in an instant, stood before her, his imposing figure was so large that it blocked the people standing behind him.

Realizing that his piercing gaze was fixed on the box she was holding, Syria subtly glanced at Alpen. Sensing her intention—since they were close, she wanted him to speak—Alpen bowed his head with noble poise.

“Greetings to you, Your Majesty.”

“What is that?”

The Emperor’s long finger pointed precisely at the box she was holding.

“It is a wedding gift for Lady Syria.”

Alpen answered without flinching, his smile sharp. As always, his tone was aristocratic to the bone, no matter the situation. Karl’s lips twisted, as if he was displeased.

“I believe I said I do not approve of that marriage.”

The Emperor’s voice, which had been briefly subdued, now sounded dangerously beast-like. Come to think of it, although not official, the Emperor had once said in bed that he would approve of breaking off the engagement with Duke Roxihart. At the time, Syria had only heard it as a casual remark, but now it seemed to be a formal matter.

‘He seems extremely angry…’

There was no need to check; it was obvious. The finger the Emperor extended was his middle finger. Suddenly, she felt as if she’d been insulted for no reason.