ISTV 47

cela lifted the remaining piece of apple pie with the utmost reverence and graceful poise.

To Camellia, she looked every bit as noble and dignified as she opened her mouth.

“Would you care for a bite?”

“Would you like to share in this final joy?”

Camellia almost blurted out Yes! without thinking.

There was a kind of bewitching charm about Seila—something intoxicating, like fine wine, that clouded the mind.

And yet, at the same time, it was absurd.

‘Is this really something that needs to be done so elegantly?’

Sharing in the “final joy” was just a pretty way of saying she was offering her leftovers.

Still, it seemed Seila had a knack for wrapping even the most trivial words in beautiful packaging.

But then Prince Leon’s reply was just as strange.

“I salute the Lady’s unfathomable spirit of sacrifice.”

Unfathomable sacrifice? Salute? Where?

Camellia was starting to get confused.

‘Why does it sound so dramatic?’

In the end, Leon popped the remaining half of the apple pie into his mouth in one bite.

And then Camellia’s attention snagged on one startling fact.

‘Wait a second…’

Nobles never touched food that someone else had already eaten.

The only exceptions were lovers, or at least people with a very strong mutual attraction.

In modern Central Continent slang, it was something you did only when you were “kind of seeing each other.”

‘Although… they really do look good together.’

Seila might still seem a bit young, but that would sort itself out within the year.

Camellia glanced between the two of them.

‘I always thought no one could stand next to the prince and still look good.’

That was how dazzling the prince’s looks were.

And yet, standing beside him, Seila didn’t lose out at all in appearance.

If anything, she radiated an even more mysterious air than he did.

“Oh, that reminds me—I came here today because of you, my lady. Did you know that?”

Camellia clasped her hands together.

Her heart began to race for no reason.

‘Is he… about to confess?’

It was like a scene from a romantic play—
the prince rushing all the way here from the Central Empire just to confess his feelings.

The story was so far-fetched that no one would believe it if they read it in a play script.
But to Camellia, it was thrilling enough.

“I did not know,” Seila replied.

Camellia cheered inwardly.

Yes, yes—play it cool, act like you don’t know!

“Well, you do now. I came here to see you.”

Camellia nearly fainted.

She had no idea the prince could say something so romantic.

“Do you have business with me, Your Highness?”

“I do.”

The prince reached into his coat.

Camellia held her breath, half-expecting a rose to appear.

‘Huh?’

Instead, he pulled out a white handkerchief and placed it in front of Seila.

“I challenge you to a sparring match.”

Seila refused without hesitation.

“No.”

“Are you a coward? Running away?”

“Call it that if you like.”

“So the rumors were exaggerated after all. I’ve never heard of a swordsman avoiding a spar.”

“Don’t lie, Your Highness.”

Seila shifted her gaze to Andrew, who stood quietly in the back.

“Isn’t there one right there?”

“…”

Andrew scratched the back of his head.

Though he was one of the Empire’s finest knights—a 9-star—he tended to avoid sparring with the prince.
He always said he didn’t want to risk so much as a scratch on the prince’s body and lose his position as attendant.

“If even a 9-star knight of the Empire refuses to spar with Your Highness, why shouldn’t I?”

“A 9-star knight can afford to refuse—his strength is already proven. But you are different, my lady.”

“I have little interest in proving my strength.”

Andrew, watching the exchange, felt something strange.

‘She’s not giving off the vibe of someone running away.’

It was odd. Normally, someone refusing a spar radiated fear—
and seasoned warriors could sense that instinctively.

But from Seila, there was no fear at all.

“It’s not a duel, it’s just sparring, Lady Seila.”

“I have no desire to get tangled up with Your Highness.”

“…What?”

Leon looked genuinely shocked.

“That’s the first time in my life anyone’s ever said that to me.”

Camellia, too, was stunned.

‘I can’t believe she just said that to the prince.’

The noble ladies of the Empire all longed to be connected to the prince somehow.

They knew full well he wasn’t especially kind or gentle, and that he wasn’t interested in romance or marriage—
but his looks alone were enough to make them forget all that.

Even Camellia, who had just been brusquely told “Don’t talk to me” by him, still found him appealing.

The prince asked,

“Why don’t you want to get involved with me?”

“Because trouble follows you everywhere, Your Highness.”

“So that rumor’s reached even the Eastern Continent?”

He glanced at Andrew in a way that made his meaning obvious without words.

Andrew quickly waved his hands.

“I didn’t spread it.”

“Then how did it get this far?”

“I swear it wasn’t me. In fact, I’d like to know—how does the lady know about Your Highness’s… tendencies?”

Seila replied,

“Because I have the same tendencies.”

Both Leon and Andrew turned to look at her.

“Danger to my life comes at me constantly. At first I didn’t understand, but now I think it must be my constitution.
I can feel something approaching—and when I do, without fail, a deadly crisis comes.”

“My lady, I’m not that bad.”

“Yes, perhaps not. But what would happen if your constitution and mine were combined?”

“You’re rather bold, saying outright that you’re running away from danger. I’m surprised you can refuse my challenge without a hint of cowardice.”

“If you truly wish to spar with me, I’ll do it a year from now.”

“A year?”

They already shared the bond of fellow bread-lovers.

Now, with their similar “constitutions,” there was a kind of kinship.

The next step was to tug at the sense of fairness buried deep in Leon’s heart.

“Please stand up, Your Highness.”

Leon complied without argument, and Andrew nearly choked.

‘The prince actually stood up when someone told him to?’

He was usually the sort who never listened to anyone.

And yet, here he was, moving at Seila’s request.

It was nothing remarkable in itself, but to Andrew, it was like magic.

Seila stood beside the prince.

“What are you doing?”

“Look at the difference in our height.”

At that, Camellia’s heart began to pound again.

‘The thrilling height difference!’

…Though, in this case, it was quite a lot.

Leon was already 183 centimeters tall and still growing.

Seila, by contrast, was around 163 centimeters—
a whole 20 centimeters shorter.

But since Camellia had already decided to view the scene as romantic,
all she could see was the “heart-fluttering” height gap.

Then Seila held out her palm.

“Place your hand against mine.”

“My hand?”

Their palms met.

Unsurprisingly, Leon’s hand was much larger—
Seila’s looked like a child’s in comparison.

“Sir Andrew, does a difference in physique of this magnitude significantly affect sparring?”

“Of course.”

No matter how skilled someone was in handling mana,
physical size and strength could not be ignored.

The higher one’s mastery, the less it mattered—
but that took years of training.

For a fifteen-year-old like Seila, it was impossible.

“Therefore, I request that Your Highness postpone our spar.”

“I’ll agree—if you admit you’re a coward.”

Seila shook her head.

“I’m not postponing because I’m afraid. I simply want to cross swords with you under fairer conditions.
That way, it will be a far more enjoyable match for me as a swordswoman.”

There was not a trace of cowardice in her.

Camellia was practically gushing.

“You two made such a perfect couple, my lady.”

She had kept completely quiet when the prince was there,
but now that he was gone, she was chattering nonstop.

“And you even had an indirect kiss!”

When did I?

What indirect kiss?

She was saying something about the apple pie,
but Seila had no idea what she meant.

“You stood side by side, compared heights, and even pressed your palms together.”

“…”

According to Camellia, she and Leon had been in the middle of a deep flirtation.

Who flirts over the topic of sparring? Seila had no idea—
but apparently, that’s how Camellia saw it.

It’s true what they say—people only see what they want to see.
Even in that tense scene, Camellia had somehow found romance.

An impressive eye for observation—
to the point of discovering things that didn’t even exist.

Or maybe… not observation, but invention.

“Thanks to that, I got to confirm once again the aura and presence you give off, Lady Seila.
To think that you could seem even more radiant than the prince himself while standing next to him!”

Seila wasn’t sure, but at this point, she suspected that Lady Camellia might actually have a crush on her.

It was the gaze of a true fangirl—
with just enough obsession to be a little unsettling.

And then, she said something that, from a commoner’s perspective, was downright shocking.