Wait, My Overpowered Skill is Just… Love?!-Chapter 8 - 7: A Deal for Her Hand

Cecilia hadn't meant to overhear.

She had been passing by her father's study, heading toward the main hall when she heard raised voices through the heavy wooden door.

At first, she didn't care.

Her parents were always discussing political matters—territorial disputes, noble alliances, trade negotiations. It had nothing to do with her.

But then she heard her own name.

And she stopped.

"...This is madness, Reinhardt! You know Cecilia would never agree to this!"

Her mother's voice was sharp, furious.

Cecilia's stomach tightened.

She took a slow step closer, pressing herself against the wall, listening.

Her father's voice was heavy with frustration. "Elara, do you think I want this? Do you think I don't understand how she'll react? But the fact remains—the Albrecht family holds too much influence. We cannot afford to make an enemy of them."

Albrecht.

That was a name Cecilia recognized.

Viscount Albrecht controlled a wealthy trade network, with deep political ties to several ducal houses. Their connections outmatched House Aetheria in every way.

Her mother scoffed. "And so what? We should just hand our daughter over like a political tool?"

There was a long pause.

Then, her father spoke, voice lower.

"It's an offer, Elara. Not a demand. But if we refuse... they will not forget it."

Cecilia's blood ran cold.

Marriage.

They were talking about her.

Cecilia had always known that, as a noble, her marriage would be political.

She was not naïve.

High-born daughters did not marry for love. They married for alliances, for power, for their family's benefit.

She had simply assumed she had more time.

But now, here it was—a deal being struck without her consent.

And she wasn't even in the room.

Her hands curled into fists.

Her mother, at least, was still fighting for her.

"She's only ten, Reinhardt. Do you understand what they're asking of her? And don't tell me this is just an 'offer.' We both know how this works—if we refuse, they will retaliate in ways we cannot predict."

Cecilia's father sighed heavily. "I know. But Elara, listen to me—if we don't at least entertain this offer, they will assume we are against them. And an enemy of House Albrecht is an enemy of every noble backing them."

Silence.

Then her mother's voice, cold as steel.

"...We will not force Cecilia into anything."

A pause.

Then her father sighed.

"No. We won't."

Cecilia exhaled slowly.

Relief.

But only a little.

Her parents weren't forcing her—but that didn't mean the pressure would stop.

The Albrecht family wouldn't take rejection lightly.

And that meant Cecilia was now in the center of a political game she wanted no part of.

She turned on her heel, quietly walking away.

She needed to think and

Cecilia wanted to go back to her room but when she entered the courtyard, she stopped.

Selene was there.

She was training alone, her sword slicing through the air with lethal precision.

Cecilia hesitated.

She hadn't spoken to Selene much since their last encounter.

Things between them felt... unspoken.

But right now, she needed to talk to someone.

So she stepped forward.

"...Selene."

Selene stilled.

She turned, lowering her sword.

Her violet eyes met Cecilia's.

Cecilia took a slow breath.

"There's been a marriage proposal."

She hadn't meant to say it so bluntly.

But the moment the words left her lips—

Selene's expression darkened.

Not in anger.

Not in surprise.

It was something... colder.

Something calculated.

She wiped her blade clean, placing it back into its sheath.

Then she finally spoke.

"Who?"

Her voice was calm. Too calm.

Cecilia hesitated. "The Albrecht family."

A pause.

Then—

"I see."

That was it.

No reaction.

No opinion.

Just a simple acknowledgment.

And yet Cecilia felt it.

Something was wrong.

She frowned. "That's all you're going to say?"

Selene's gaze flickered, studying her carefully.

"Is there a reason I should say more?"

Cecilia scowled.

"...Forget it."

She turned, about to leave

But then Selene spoke again.

"Do you want to accept it?"

Cecilia froze.

She turned back, staring at Selene in disbelief.

"Are you serious?"

Selene tilted her head slightly. "It is a valid question."

"No, it isn't! You think I want to be married off to some noble heir I don't even know?"

Selene didn't blink.

"Then you have nothing to worry about."

Cecilia let out a frustrated breath.

"You don't get it. This isn't about what I want. It's about what happens if we refuse."

Selene watched her carefully.

Then, after a long pause, she finally spoke.

"Then we don't refuse."

Cecilia's heart stopped.

For a moment, she thought she had misheard.

"...What?"

Selene took a step closer.

"We don't refuse," she repeated, voice quiet but firm. "We remove the problem."

Cecilia stared at her.

Something about the way she said it—

The absolute certainty in her tone.

It sent a shiver down her spine.

"...Selene."

Selene's eyes didn't waver.

She was dead serious.

"I will handle it."

Cecilia felt her throat go dry.

She wasn't stupid.

She knew exactly what Selene was implying.

She took a step back.

"Selene, you can't just—"

Selene's hand caught her wrist.

Not hard. Not tight.

But firm enough to stop her retreat.

"I won't let them take you."

A statement.

Not a promise.

Not a reassurance.

A fact.

Cecilia's breath hitched.

She yanked her hand away.

"...This is insane."

She turned and walked away without looking back.

Selene didn't follow.

But even as she put distance between them, Cecilia couldn't shake the feeling—

That something irreversible had just happened.

And that, no matter what she did—

Selene had already made her choice.

---

Cecilia barely slept that night.

She tossed and turned, Selene's words repeating in her mind—I will handle it.

She hadn't even asked what Selene meant by that, because she already knew.

Selene wasn't talking about negotiating, or finding some political way out of the proposal.

She was talking about removing the problem entirely.

And that terrified Cecilia more than anything.

Because when Selene made a decision, she followed through.

Always.

Cecilia knew that better than anyone.

---

The Next Morning

She made her way down to breakfast, dragging her feet, already dreading the conversation waiting for her.

When she entered the dining hall, her parents were already seated.

Her father, Reinhardt, looked exhausted.

Her mother, Elara, was pale with irritation.

They were arguing quietly.

The moment they noticed Cecilia, they both fell silent.

She took her seat, pretending not to notice.

Elara hesitated, then spoke gently.

"...Cecilia. We need to talk."

Cecilia set down her fork.

"I already know."

Her father's expression darkened slightly. "You overheard."

Cecilia nodded. "The Albrecht family is trying to marry me off, and you can't refuse outright because of the political consequences."

Her mother exhaled sharply. "It's not that simple, dear. We would never force you into anything."

"But we also can't ignore the pressure," her father admitted, rubbing his temples. "House Albrecht is growing impatient."

Cecilia frowned. "How long have they been pushing for this?"

"A few months," Reinhardt said reluctantly. "They sent an initial inquiry, which we ignored. Then a second, which we deflected. But now..."

"They're demanding a response," Elara finished, scowling.

Cecilia clenched her fists.

So this wasn't sudden.

It was planned.

They had been circling like vultures for months, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

And now that Cecilia was ten, the age when noble girls were formally introduced into high society, they were making their move.

She hated it.

She hated that these people—who she had never met—thought they could claim her like a political trophy.

She hated that her parents' hands were tied.

And most of all—

She hated that she felt powerless.

Cecilia expected Selene to hover near the door, listening.

But she wasn't there.

That was... odd.

Selene was always nearby.

So where was she?

The answer came a few hours later.

Cecilia was walking through the eastern wing of the estate when she heard the clash of metal.

She paused.

It was coming from the training courtyard.

A sharp, rhythmic sound—sword strikes, one after another.

Cecilia followed the sound, stepping onto the stone path that led to the courtyard—

And froze.

Selene was there.

Sparring alone.

Except—

This wasn't training.

This was something else.

Her movements were too sharp, too fast, too aggressive.

Her strikes were brutal, precise—each one meant to kill, not spar.

She wasn't training.

She was releasing something.

Frustration. Resentment.

Possession.

Cecilia swallowed, watching as Selene drove her blade into the wooden dummy's chest, embedding it deep.

Her breathing was slow, controlled.

But her eyes were burning.

Cecilia shouldn't have come here.

She should have walked away.

But instead

"...Selene."

Selene stilled.

She turned, slowly pulling her sword from the dummy.

Her violet eyes met Cecilia's.

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Neither of them spoke.

Then—

"You seem upset," Cecilia muttered.

Selene tilted her head slightly.

"I am not."

Liar.

Cecilia crossed her arms. "You're killing training dummies."

Selene cleaned her blade with practiced ease. "Would you prefer I practice on real people?"

Cecilia's stomach dropped.

She knew what Selene was implying.

And it wasn't a joke.

"...Selene," Cecilia said carefully, "whatever you're thinking—stop."

Selene sheathed her sword.

"I haven't done anything," she said simply.

Yet.

Cecilia took a slow breath.

"I don't need you to interfere."

Selene stepped closer.

"Don't you?"

Cecilia clenched her teeth.

"You can't just get rid of anyone who threatens me."

Selene didn't answer immediately.

Then, finally, she murmured—

"...Why not?"

Cecilia stared at her.

Selene's tone was neutral, quiet.

As if she was genuinely asking.

As if she truly didn't understand why she shouldn't.

Cecilia exhaled sharply.

"Because I said so."

Selene watched her for a long moment.

Then, to Cecilia's absolute horror—

She smiled.

It wasn't warm.

It wasn't friendly.

It was small, unreadable.

But there was something deeply unsettling about it.

"...Understood," Selene said softly.

Cecilia felt her skin crawl.

She didn't believe her.

Not for a second.

And for the first time, she realized—

It wasn't just that Selene wouldn't let the Albrecht family take her.

It was that Selene didn't think they had the right to try.

Because in Selene's mind—

Cecilia already belonged to her.

---

It was mid-afternoon when the Aetheria estate gates opened to welcome their uninvited guest.

A carriage embellished with gold and deep crimson rolled to a stop in the courtyard.

The crest of House Albrecht was displayed boldly on its doors—a coiled serpent intertwined with a rose.

The perfect metaphor for their family.

Deceptively elegant. Beautiful on the surface.

But poisonous underneath.

Cecilia stood in the main hall with her parents, waiting.

She had no desire to be here, but as the daughter of House Aetheria, she had no choice.

The carriage door opened, and a young man stepped out.

He was tall, slender, and elegantly dressed in noble attire.

His features were pleasant—too pleasant.

Light brown hair, soft blue eyes that gave him a falsely harmless appearance.

But his smile—

It was all wrong.

It was the smile of a predator wearing the face of a gentleman.

"It's a Pleasure to Finally Meet You."

The young man strode forward with practiced grace, bowing slightly before Cecilia's father.

"Viscount Aetheria," he greeted smoothly. "It is an honor to finally visit your esteemed household."

Reinhardt nodded, his expression calm but unreadable.

"The honor is ours, Lord Albrecht," he replied. "We welcome you as a guest."

The young man's gaze shifted toward Cecilia.

And that was when she felt it.

A slow, crawling sensation down her spine.

His eyes weren't just looking at her.

They were measuring her.

Calculating.

Cecilia kept her expression neutral.

She knew how noble games worked—showing discomfort would only encourage him.

"Lady Cecilia," the young man said with a warm, practiced smile. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you."

Cecilia inclined her head slightly.

"As it is to meet you, Lord Albrecht," she replied smoothly.

"I hope my presence is not too much of an inconvenience."

"Oh, not at all," Cecilia lied. "We are always happy to receive guests."

His smile widened slightly.

A polite smile.

A noble smile.

A liar's smile.

And Cecilia could feel Selena presence

She wasn't in the main hall.

But she was close.

Watching.

Waiting.

The air around her felt charged, as if something was teetering on the edge of a knife.

Selene had been silent about the marriage proposal.

Too silent.

Which meant that she was planning something.

Cecilia just didn't know what.

Lord Albrecht turned his attention back to Reinhardt.

"My father sends his regards," he said. "He wishes for our two great houses to strengthen our bond."

A subtle reminder of the marriage proposal.

Cecilia felt her mother stiffen beside her.

But her father only nodded. "We are honored by House Albrecht's goodwill."

Lord Albrecht smiled.

"But of course, this visit is not just about politics," he continued lightly. "I wished to see Lady Cecilia in person. After all, words and letters can only say so much."

Cecilia forced herself to smile.

"How fortunate, then, that we now have this opportunity," she said pleasantly.

The young man's eyes glimmered with amusement.

"Oh, indeed," he murmured.

Something about the way he said it made Cecilia's stomach twist.

He was playing with her.

And she hated it.

But before she could say anything else—

The doors to the main hall swung open.

A familiar presence entered.

Cold. Calculated. Possessive.

Selene.

The moment Selene entered the hall, the atmosphere shifted.

It was subtle—too subtle for most to notice.

But Cecilia felt it immediately.

The quiet tension.

The unspoken warning.

The shift in power.

Selene didn't speak.

She didn't need to.

She simply stood there, her presence alone commanding the room.

Her violet eye locked onto Lord Albrecht.

Expression unreadable. Posture controlled.

But there was something cold, razor-sharp, lurking beneath the surface.

Something that made even the most seasoned warriors hesitate.

Lord Albrecht, however, was not a warrior.

He was a noble. A man born into power, raised to manipulate, trained to hide his intentions behind pretty smiles and sweet words.

And to his credit—he barely faltered.

If he was unnerved by Selene's sudden entrance, he didn't show it.

Instead, he smiled.

And Cecilia hated it.

"Ah," Lord Albrecht said smoothly. "You must be Selene von Aetheria."

Selene didn't respond.

She simply stared.

The kind of stare that made people question their own survival.

The noble heir chuckled lightly, unbothered—or pretending to be.

"It's an honor to finally meet the famous adopted knight of House Aetheria," he continued. "I've heard much about you."

Selene tilted her head slightly.

"And what have you heard?"

Her tone was neutral.

But Cecilia recognized it.

It was the voice Selene used when she was assessing a threat.

Lord Albrecht's smile widened just a fraction.

"That you are House Aetheria's most loyal protector," he said smoothly. "That you have never once lost a duel. And that you are..."

His blue eyes flickered toward Cecilia.

"...rather attached to Lady Cecilia."

A pause.

A heavy, suffocating pause.

Cecilia's stomach twisted.

She didn't dare look at Selene.

She already knew what she would see.

Selene took a slow step forward.

She was still calm. Still composed.

But the air felt different.

Colder.

Sharper.

"If that is the extent of what you've heard," she said evenly, "then you are misinformed."

Lord Albrecht raised an eyebrow.

"Oh? And what have I missed?"

Selene's expression didn't change.

But the weight of her presence did.

"You failed to hear what happens to those who overstep their place."

Silence.

The smile on Lord Albrecht's lips didn't waver.

But his fingers twitched ever so slightly.

Cecilia saw it.

And so did Selene.

Cecilia swallowed hard.

She needed to intervene before this turned into something irreparable.

"Lord Albrecht," Cecilia said quickly, stepping between them. "You must be tired from your journey. Shall I show you to the guest wing?"

It was an excuse.

An obvious one.

But it worked.

Lord Albrecht glanced at her, then chuckled.

"How thoughtful of you, Lady Cecilia," he mused. "Yes, perhaps it's best we continue this conversation later."

He gave Selene one last glance.

"After all, I imagine we'll be seeing much more of each other in the future."

Selene didn't react.

She simply watched him leave.

And Cecilia—

Cecilia felt like she had just prevented a war.

For now.

But as she turned back to Selene, she knew this wasn't over.

Not even close.

---

The moment Lord Albrecht left the hall, Cecilia exhaled.

Her entire body felt tense, as if she had just walked across a thin sheet of ice, knowing that at any moment, it could shatter beneath her.

She turned back to Selene.

The knight was still standing in the same spot, her posture calm, controlled—but Cecilia knew better.

Selene was angry.

Not in the way most people were.

She wasn't scowling or raising her voice.

No, Selene's anger was silent. Calculated. Cold.

And that was what made it so dangerous.

Cecilia took a deep breath.

"...Selene."

The knight's violet eyes slowly shifted to her.

Cecilia hesitated.

She wanted to tell Selene to back off—to stop treating this as some battle she needed to win.

But she already knew the answer.

Selene wasn't backing down.

Not now.

Not ever.

Cecilia bit the inside of her cheek.

"Don't do anything reckless," she said finally.

Selene tilted her head. "Define reckless."

Cecilia glared. "You know exactly what I mean."

Selene didn't respond.

Which only made Cecilia more nervous.

She knew Selene well enough to understand that if she wasn't denying something, it was because she fully intended to do it.

"...Selene."

Still no answer.

Cecilia ran a hand down her face.

She was tired.

Tired of the political games.

Tired of being treated like a prize to be won.

Tired of Selene acting like she was entitled to her.

For once—just once—she wanted Selene to listen.

"Just... let me handle this," she muttered.

Selene blinked, slow and deliberate.

Then—

"...You won't."

Cecilia stiffened.

She turned to face Selene fully, crossing her arms.

"And what exactly is that supposed to mean?"

Selene studied her, quiet for a long moment.

Then she said, in that same calm, unreadable tone—

"You'll try. But in the end, it won't matter."

Cecilia felt her jaw tighten.

It wasn't mockery.

Selene wasn't saying it to be cruel.

She was saying it because she genuinely believed it.

That no matter what Cecilia did, no matter how much she fought—this marriage proposal, this entire situation, would spiral out of her control.

Cecilia hated that Selene might be right.

"...I can handle myself," Cecilia said firmly.

Selene didn't argue.

She just tilted her head slightly.

Expression unreadable.

And somehow, that was even worse.

Because it meant Selene was already planning something.

Something Cecilia wouldn't be able to stop.

---

Later that evening, Cecilia sat in her room, staring at the ceiling.

She should have been asleep.

But her mind was racing.

Something felt... off.

Like she was standing on the edge of a cliff, staring down into something she couldn't yet see.

And she knew.

She knew that whatever came next—

It would change everything.

---

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