Soren ignored Lyndon when the older man raised his wine glass toward him in a silent toast.

He didn’t even pretend to acknowledge it.

Instead, his gaze shifted to Spade, who stood quietly at his side.

"No matter what happens," Soren said, his voice carrying the weight of a direct military order, "don’t let Lady Lynette enter my room."

Spade immediately straightened. "Yes, Commander."

Without hesitation, he stepped outside and closed the door behind him, taking his position as a guard.

The moment the room fell silent, Soren leaned back in his chair, his expression darkening.

Seriously.

That old man really didn’t know when to give up.

For years, Lyndon had continued pushing the engagement forward as though sheer persistence would eventually force Soren into accepting it.

Invitations arrived one after another. Formal dinners. Family gatherings. Noble events. Every few months there was some new excuse designed to place him in the same room as Lynette.

And every single time, Soren found a reason not to attend.

Yet Lyndon never confronted him directly. Instead, he hid behind royal approval and political necessity, expecting everyone else to simply accept the arrangement.

The entire thing irritated Soren more than outright threats ever could.

His gaze drifted toward the royal chamber across the stadium.

’Speaking of people responsible for this mess...’

The King sat comfortably beside the Queen, completely unaware—or perhaps deliberately pretending to be unaware—of how troublesome his "brilliant political solution" had become.

Should he just go there right now and put an end to this entire engagement farce himself?

The thought almost made him laugh because reality never worked that simply.

The moment he rejected it publicly, the nobles would start talking, royal court would start interfering, political factions would start taking sides.

And somehow, despite him being the one trying to end the problem, he would become the villain in everyone’s story.

A cold chuckle escaped him.

Politics.

The one battlefield he genuinely hated.

His gaze shifted away from the royal chamber and wandered toward another private room farther down the stadium.

Vesphyr Renardon was here and that was very strange.

The Duke had practically disappeared from public life for nearly a decade.

No social gatherings.

No noble events.

No court appearances.

Nothing.

Rumors about him had become so ridiculous over the years that some people genuinely believed he had become a hermit living in the mountains.

And yet—

Today, of all days, he was here at a student carving examination.

Soren’s fingers tapped lightly against the armrest.

’Something wasn’t right.’

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

"When will the examination start?"

Vesphyr let out what was probably his hundredth sigh of the morning as he leaned against his chair and stared impatiently at the stadium below.

Beside him, Sykelion was beginning to understand why some attendants retired early.

"It will start any moment now, my lord," he said patiently. "And besides, we’re not even certain Miss Blanca is among the students performing today."

"Can’t we skip all the introductions and let the students start carving already?"

Sykelion closed his eyes, counted to three, and opened them again.

The Duke was still serious.

The introductions hadn’t even lasted ten minutes and Vesphyr was already acting as though he had been imprisoned for several years.

Honestly, Sykelion couldn’t even blame the academy anymore. The real problem was sitting directly in front of him.

Not only had the duke dragged him here at an unreasonable hour, they had arrived absurdly early.

The stadium staff hadn’t even finished setting up refreshments when the Duke appeared.

And for the past several days?

The man had been completely dysfunctional. Although he still attended meetings, reviewed documents, and signed paperworks.

The problem was that whenever Sykelion checked those documents afterward, the signature wasn’t Vesphyr Renardon.

It was Blanca.

Just Blanca.

Over.

And over.

And over again.

Sykelion had nearly suffered a heart attack the first time he found a trade agreement signed with the words:

Blanca ♡

The memory alone made him want to lie down.

He had spent days rewriting documents, correcting signatures, and preventing various government departments from discovering that one of the Empire’s most influential nobles had apparently lost a war against his own emotions.

Which was why Sykelion desperately hoped seeing Miss Blanca today would solve whatever was wrong with the duke.

At this point he didn’t care how.

Exorcism.

Magic.

Divine intervention.

Anything.

"It’s starting," Sykelion said suddenly.

Students were finally beginning to enter the stadium.

Vesphyr immediately sat upright, ears perked, and his tail even began wagging.

Sykelion froze and looked again.

The duke’s tail was still wagging.

Sykelion stared in absolute horror.

’Good heavens!’

He looked exactly like a love-struck puppy waiting for his owner to come home. If the nobles saw this, half the Empire would collapse from shock.

"She’s here!" Vesphyr suddenly said excitedly. "Blanca’s here!"

Sykelion nearly jumped from his seat as he immediately looked toward the stadium.

Hundreds of students were pouring into the arena.

Different classes.

Different heights.

Different hairstyles.

Several students were even wearing masks and accessories.

Sykelion squinted then stood up and approached the glass window. "Where?"

"There!"

"Which one?"

"The beautiful one!"

Sykelion looked at the sea of students. "That doesn’t narrow it down at all!"

Meanwhile Vesphyr was already smiling happily while staring toward the crowd.

"She looks amazing today."

Sykelion followed his line of sight.

There were approximately two hundred students in that direction.

"How are you even identifying her from this distance?"

Vesphyr looked at him as though he’d asked something obvious. "I just know."

Sykelion immediately regretted asking.

Yes, he’s definitely lovesick. There was no other diagnosis.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

"Where are you going, Ravi? The carving exams are about to start! You’ll miss watching me and Silvano!"

Vivienne immediately latched onto Ravian’s arm the moment she noticed him stepping away from their seats.

Ravian laughed softly and reached over to ruffle her hair. "I’m just going to the restroom first."

"You said that last time and disappeared for an hour."

"I had something to take care of."

"You always say that."

"Because it’s true."

"It sounds suspicious."

"That’s because you’re suspicious of everything."

Vivienne huffed before finally letting go. "Be quick!"

Ravian smiled and waved a hand. "I’ll be back before the exams start."

The moment he turned around, however, the smile slowly disappeared from his face.

The direction he walked toward wasn’t the restroom.

Instead, he headed for the upper levels of the stadium where the VIP chambers were located.

The cheerful atmosphere from moments ago vanished completely as his posture straightened.

By the time he reached the guarded corridor, he looked every bit the Crown Prince of the Empire.

The knights stationed outside the royal chamber immediately recognized him.

Both bowed deeply.

"Your Highness."

"Announce my arrival," Ravian said calmly.

"Yes, Your Highness."

One of the guards stepped forward and knocked on the large doors.

"Your Majesties, His Highness has arrived."

A few seconds later, the King’s voice sounded from inside.

"Enter."

The doors swung open.

Ravian stepped inside.

The room was lavish as expected, though he barely paid attention to the expensive decorations.

His gaze immediately landed on the King and Queen seated comfortably near the viewing window overlooking the stadium.

"Father. Mother," Ravian greeted. "What brings you here all of a sudden?"

The King looked up from his tea. "You say that as though we’re forbidden from attending academy events."

"You haven’t attended one in years."

"That’s different."

"How?"

"I wasn’t interested."

The tow of them stared at each other. Neither looked particularly convinced by his answer.

Meanwhile, the Queen smiled warmly. "We heard there was a very talented student participating today."

Ravian immediately became suspicious. "A talented student?"

"Yes."

"That’s enough reason for both of you to come personally?"

They didn’t answer.

The Queen’s smile somehow became even more suspicious while the King suddenly found his teacup fascinating.

Ravian slowly looked between his parents as his eyes narrowed. "Who?"

"What do you mean who?" the King asked innocently.

"Who is this student that convinced both of you to personally attend a carving examination?"

The King coughed into his fist.

The Queen simply smiled.

Ravian’s suspicion grew.

Then he remembered something.

A certain white-haired menace.

A certain student who somehow managed to cause chaos every week.

A certain student who recently defeated an instructor and became part of the academy staff.

"Tell me whatever you’re planning right now," Ravian said flatly. "Or I will personally make sure it fails."

He knew these two.

Whenever they became interested in a talented beastkin, common sense immediately packed its bags and left the palace.

The last time they had "just wanted to meet someone," the Imperial Court had spent three months dealing with the aftermath. 𝗳𝐫𝚎𝗲𝚠𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝘃𝚎𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝗺

"The principal didn’t tell us anything," the King sighed. "Recruiting students is strictly prohibited by academy regulations."

Ravian narrowed his eyes. "That wasn’t a denial."

"It was close enough."

"It really wasn’t."

The Queen smiled innocently. "We simply want to observe their skills."

Before Ravian could continue interrogating them, the Queen patted the empty seat beside her.

"Come sit. Your father and I missed you."

Ravian’s expression softened slightly. With a quiet sigh, he moved over and sat beside them.

The Queen immediately fixed his collar.

"Mother."

"You looked untidy."

"I walked twenty meters."

"Exactly."

Ravian wisely chose not to argue.

Meanwhile, the King took a sip of tea before glancing toward his son.

"When will you resume your duties as Crown Prince?"

Ravian already knew that question was coming. "After I graduate."

The King raised an eyebrow. "You’ve been saying that for years."

"And I’ll keep saying it until I graduate."

"You know the Empire won’t stop existing while you’re attending school."

"Then it’s doing a very good job surviving without me."

The King looked deeply unimpressed while Ravian looked equally unimpressed.

The Queen immediately intervened before another argument could start.

"Can we focus on the performance exam?" she asked. "This is one of the few times we get to relax."

The King’s stern expression disappeared instantly. "As you wish, my dear."

He gently lifted her hand and kissed it as the Queen chuckled softly.

Ravian stared at them. "In case both of you forgot," he said dryly, "I’m still here."

Neither of them answered as Ravian slowly looked away.

The future ruler of the Empire had somehow become a third wheel in his own family.

After a moment, he leaned back in his chair and looked toward the stadium below.

"Next time," he muttered, "I’m staying with Vivienne."

"Tell her we said hello," the Queen replied without even looking at him.

"See? This is exactly what I’m talking about."