Celicia sat atop Muen, her slender waist arched, clothes disheveled.

The gown, already halfway slipped off, drooped even lower under the pull of gravity.

Since the “highest peak” had already been crossed, everything that followed now felt inevitable.

And so, more and more dazzling sights flooded straight into Muen’s brain without resistance.

Not good. Not good at all.

This position. This view.

And unlike her usual icy presence, the searing heat that now radiated from Celicia like waves off a sun-scorched field—

Muen felt his brain explode. A rush of heat surged up to his nose. He nearly had a nosebleed.

“Your Highness, please calm down!”

He clamped a hand over his nose—the only part of his body he could still move—and cried out in panic:

“This is about to get really NSFW!”

“Don’t move.”

Celicia’s voice was still cold—but now laced with a sultry edge, a strange, intoxicating timbre that made Muen’s heart waver.

“Don’t... move...”

She leaned down, pinning Muen’s other hand as well.

The sweet scent of a flower-like girl enveloped him.

He still tried to struggle, but the girl on top of him felt like a mountain—he couldn’t budge an inch.

And at last, Muen truly understood the importance of strength.

With strength, he wouldn’t be in this humiliating situation, pinned under a woman and completely unable to resist.

Damn it. If I get out of this alive, I’m gonna train like hell!

“Dragonblood...”

“Huh?”

Celicia suddenly murmured something.

“The potion... it had Dragonblood mixed in. Dragonblood enhances the efficacy of magical compounds...”

“Oh. Uh-huh.”

Muen nodded blankly, absolutely baffled as to why Celicia was giving him a lesson on alchemical composition right now of all times.

Is this some kind of teacher play?

Nope. That just made it worse.

“But... Dragonblood has a trait. It can’t come into contact with... with Serpentgrass. Once it does, it triggers... the Dragonblood’s toxicity.”

Her breaths were getting rougher, her words choppy and uneven.

She kept slipping between lucidity and haze, as if still fighting off the raging poison inside her.

Poison, huh?

Lust-poison.

Suddenly, Muen realized—Celicia hadn’t been talking to him at all.

“That kind of poison... it’s incurable...”

She was talking to herself.

“Incurable, incurable, incurable, incurable, incurable, incurable, incurable... There’s no cure. No antidote.”

She repeated “incurable” over and over. Obsessively.

And with each repetition, Muen saw the desire in her eyes begin to coalesce—like it was becoming something tangible, oozing out like ink.

Was she... trying to convince herself?

“Except—”

Her eyes suddenly regained a sliver of clarity.

She pinned both of Muen’s wrists and locked eyes with him, her flawless face contorted in a fierce, almost feral expression for the first time.

“Muen Campbell. This time... you win.”

“But I swear—this humiliation, I’ll make you pay back tenfold in the future!”

“...Huh?”

Wait.

Future?

Muen hadn’t even processed what she meant when—

Celicia suddenly leaned down and—

Her soft, petal-pink lips crashed onto his.

———

“Mm... ah... Oh my god...”

“I can’t take it anymore!”

“This sensation... this is bad...”

“I’m ascending to heaven—!”

“Patchichi cake is just too good!!”

Ariel stuffed giant pieces of Patchichi cake into her mouth, the sweetness exploding in her brain like fireworks.

Utter bliss.

Her cheeks were puffed up like a hamster’s—so cute it almost hurt to look at her.

But she couldn’t stop.

“You really like Patchichi cake, huh.”

Liya rolled her eyes from the side. “Careful or you’ll give yourself a stomachache.”

“Please. You can’t get a stomachache from Patchichi cake. I’ve literally evolved a new organ just to digest it.”

Ariel patted her tummy proudly. “I call it the Patchichi Stomach. With it, I can eat an infinite amount, no problem!”

While the surrounding nobles were all absorbed in polite conversation, Ariel seized the opportunity to swipe every single piece of Patchichi cake from the long banquet table and hoard them in front of her.

Then, out of a rare moment of generosity, she picked one up and offered it to Liya. “Want some?”

Liya hesitated.

Her family was a lower-ranked noble house. She rarely got to eat anything this luxurious.

But then she glanced down at the majestic mountains she carried on her chest—so big they made her shoulders ache on the {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} daily—and sighed.

“...Better not. I’ve gained weight recently.”

“What?!”

Ariel shoved the cake into her own mouth indignantly. “You’re doing it again! You ungrateful cow! You have no idea how painful my struggle is, do you?!”

“W-what?! ‘Ungrateful cow’ is way too much!”

Liya flushed red with embarrassment—but somehow that just made her look even cuter. Her cheeks were round and pinchable, practically begging for it.

“Oh, still denying it, huh?”

Ariel cracked her fingers menacingly, eyes gleaming like a cat about to pounce.

“Time for punishment! Take this, and this—how’s that, huh?!”

“Ahh—n-no! That tickles! Ariel—people are watching!”

“Exactly! Being watched makes it better! Take that! Hiyah!”

“Mmmph...”

The girls’ playful brawl didn’t disturb the noble lords busy with political maneuvering, but it did catch the attention of some hormone-rattled young aristocrats.

Their eyes wandered a bit too much—then quickly darted away, muttering about “disgraceful behavior” through clenched teeth.

Only to peek again a moment later.

“Okay, that’s enough.”

After a while, Liya slapped away Ariel’s roaming hands, cheeks pink, eyes narrowed.

“You were supposed to be looking for Princess Celicia. What the hell are you doing stuffing your face with cake?”

“It’s fine. I’ll find her later. It wasn’t anything urgent, I just wanted to ask her something about swordsmanship.”

“If I miss her today, I’ll catch her at the Academy.”

“But I saw Her Highness leave with Muen Campbell. They haven’t come back yet—sure that’s not a problem?”

“I saw them too!”

Ariel frowned, pouting.

Just thinking about that guy irritated her.

Acting all high and mighty just because he came from some big-shot family—always making her life harder at the Academy.

And worst of all—he was Princess Celicia’s fiancé.

That bastard! What right does he have?!

Princess Celicia is MINE!

“...Still, I’m sure it’s fine.”

Ariel shook off her annoyance.

“At this kind of formal event, it’s hard to say no if someone like Muen Campbell invites you. It’s not her fault. Blame his damned dad for being loaded.”

“Aren’t you even worried he’ll try something... indecent?” Liya teased with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

“Pfft, please. Muen Campbell’s the kind of guy who can’t even beat me in a fight.”

Ariel snorted.

“Like he could do anything improper to Her Highness. If he even tried, Princess Celicia would’ve flattened him into the floor before he could blink!”