Chapter 10
The Gaze
“Honestly, you’re so stubborn! At least be stubborn about the right things.”
Andrew already looked as if he’d won, wearing an air of smug satisfaction.
“Ugh! Whatever!”
Richard turned his head, visibly annoyed.
‘Useless…’
Marco’s silent encouragement seemed to have had no effect. The way Richard snapped so easily showed his nerves were already unraveling.
“Hahaha. Regretting it already?”
“Forget it! I have class.”
Leaving behind Marco and Andrew, who had the same class as him anyway, Richard stormed off from Pelga Square.
And later that night, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, Richard came stumbling back to the mansion, completely drunk after drinking until his nose went crooked.
The first-floor lobby of the academy’s main building was livelier than usual. Students were reading, debating, or chatting in groups, and the space was bustling with elegantly dressed young women, all dressed to impress.
“Do I look okay?”
“Yeah, you look pretty. If the prince sees you, he’ll fall for you.”
“Oh, stop it! You’re way prettier than I am. Heehee. Your hair looks amazing today!”
“Really? Well… this is a secret, okay? Just between us.”
The girls were busy showering each other with compliments, giggling and whispering in hushed voices.
“Ah! Over there!”
“It’s the prince!”
Someone shouted.
Sunlight poured through the grand windows of the central staircase, illuminating the spacious lobby and the chandelier above. Bathed in the radiant light, Franz stepped through the massive arched doorway that connected the entrance lobby to the central hall.
Though Franz always looked like the perfect centerpiece of any portrait, today the sunlight seemed to almost worship him, cascading over him in reverent brilliance.
“……”
“……”
Everyone held their breath, momentarily stunned into silence. No one dared even to swallow. They simply stood and stared.
His blond hair, under the blinding sunlight, shimmered like white gold. His piercing blue eyes, regal bearing, and brilliant presence captivated the onlookers completely.
Three seconds of absolute silence passed before the lobby erupted in murmurs and whispers.
Franz walked calmly, unfazed by the blatant stares and subtle glances. As he moved through the long, arched lobby, he nodded slightly out of habit whenever he met someone’s gaze.
Then, he stopped.
He had felt something odd—unusual even among the many gazes constantly fixed upon him. This one was different. Unrelenting. Strange.
He was long used to being stared at. Admiration, envy, even resentment—he had seen it all. But this… this couldn’t be ignored.
‘What is that?’
Standing still in the center of the lobby, Franz turned his head toward the long corridor on the right.
“……”
The corridor stretched between marble columns with nothing visibly out of place. Just more adoring eyes cast his way. But that strange sensation—he could no longer feel it.
‘Phew, that was close.’
Iella breathed a quiet sigh of relief and glanced at Loren.
‘Loren, you’ll always be my savior.’
Had Loren not spoken to her right at that moment, she might’ve been caught staring.
‘No, even if he saw me, it wouldn’t have mattered. It’s not like I’m the only one staring.’
She told herself it was nothing, brushing off the anxiety.
Two hours earlier, in the central hall—
Iella had been waiting for Franz for hours, unsure of when he would show. She had no concrete plan, just patience.
It hadn’t been hard to learn his lecture schedule—if you simply listened to the gossiping girls around campus, you’d pick up more information than you’d ever need. And since Franz only visited the academy once a week, his presence always stirred a crowd, making it easier to blend in without being noticed.
‘Ugh, I’m starving. Why isn’t he here yet? Class is about to start. Seriously, what’s his problem?’
Her stomach growled loud enough to echo. As Iella clutched her belly and mentally cursed Franz, the atmosphere suddenly changed. The once-calm air buzzed with rising energy.
And then, through the open doors, Franz appeared—walking briskly and confidently.
Filling the lobby with his mere presence, Franz commanded attention effortlessly. Iella watched him closely.
He absorbed the longing stares of the crowd as though he were born for it, not once flinching or faltering. Even under the weight of so many eyes, he remained perfectly poised.
Which made things easier for her.
Feeling emboldened, Iella observed him freely—from every angle, every detail. Her first thought was simple: ‘He’s even better looking in person.’ Almost too perfect to be real.
She recalled scoffing once at someone who had said, “We should be grateful that a man like him exists in our kingdom.” Now, for the first time, she understood what they meant.
Another thought crept into her mind: ‘Can I really draw him as beautifully as he is?’
To be honest, even replicating him as he was would be difficult. She would be lucky just not to ruin it. Seeing him up close, her confidence faltered.
There was an odd discomfort—an unsettling feeling she couldn’t name. As her mood dimmed and her teeth tugged at her lower lip, someone called her name.
Pulling her back to reality.
“Iella.”
“……”
“Iella.”
“Huh?”
She turned to see Loren.
“…Oh. Loren.”
“Where did your mind go? Haha. I thought your classes ended today?”
“They did.”
“Then why are you still here? You’re not waiting around for the prince, are you?”
“Huh? Oh, uh…”
Struggling to find a believable excuse, Iella faltered. But Loren came to her rescue again.
“Aha, you were painting in the studio, weren’t you?”
“Yeah. That’s right.”
“It’s such a shame women aren’t allowed into the Royal Academy of Fine Arts. Someone as talented as you deserves better.”
“There are plenty of people more talented than me.”
“Not that I’ve seen. You’re the best among everyone I know.”
“Thanks, Loren.”
Loren’s unwavering support always gave Iella strength.
‘Seriously though, why hasn’t the prince left yet?!’
Feigning nonchalance, Iella turned her head again, only to be pierced by those brilliant blue eyes—still watching her. She quickly turned back.
In that brief, electrifying moment, it felt like the blue in his eyes had seared straight into her.
Tension crept into her shoulders. She forced herself to focus on Loren’s words, nodding emphatically to cover up her flustered state.
“But hey, you were watching Prince Franz earlier, weren’t you?”
Loren asked in a mischievous tone, clearly amused.
“Huh? …You noticed? Was it that obvious?”
Iella admitted it readily. There was no point in hiding it—it would’ve seemed weirder if she had.
“Honestly, most of the people here were watching him. I was just surprised you were among them.”
“I’ve never seen him up close before, and… yeah, he’s ridiculously good-looking. I get why everyone’s so obsessed with him now—even if his reputation doesn’t exactly match his face.”
“Only now you get it?”
“…Okay. I get it completely.”
Loren widened her eyes in mock shock before bursting into laughter.
“Can’t believe you’re saying this.”
“That face… and he lives like that?”
“His notorious reputation with women, you mean? Well, they say if you’re handsome, you’re paying your face’s worth. If not, you’re just making a fool of yourself. I’d rather take the face than the fool. Not treasonous, right? Haha.”
“Face-worth or fool-worth? Ugh… I hate both.”
“I’m used to the fool-type. My brother’s been like that since we were kids. Honestly, I’d take face-worth any day.”
She shook her fan as if the mere memory of her brother made her shiver. Iella gently patted Loren’s shoulder, knowing no words could console her.
Standing still with one hand in his pocket, Franz let out a faint chuckle.
‘Was I just being paranoid?’
Unable to pinpoint anything odd, Franz began walking again, letting the feeling pass.
But that’s when it hit him—‘Who was that?’
The sensation had come from one person: a girl he had never seen before.
Franz had a keen sense of how others looked at him—whether it was reverence, desire, admiration, curiosity, even jealousy or hatred.
But never indifference.
The fleeting moment of eye contact had revealed an utterly foreign emotion: detachment.
‘That blank look…’
His instincts whispered that the strange gaze he had felt earlier belonged to that girl.
Still, he kept walking up the stairs to the second floor, his expression unchanged.
But he committed her face to memory.
Because it was the kind of face one might forget all too easily.
Plain. Ordinary.
And yet unforgettable.
