‘These people.’
The Emperor scoffed in disbelief.
“Is it not enough that you’re constantly eyeing my throne? Now you’re even after the painter who is working on my portrait?”
“The throne can be passed down slowly whenever Your Majesty wishes.”
*The throne*, huh?
The Emperor scrutinized Kyra’s face, which he hadn’t really paid much attention to before.
She doesn’t resemble Scandars, but she is fairly attractive. Hmph. Not that she could ever compare to the Empress, though.
With a dismissive scoff in his mind, the Emperor glanced at the Crown Prince. Now it was clear that his son’s true goal wasn’t merely to admire the painting—it was, without a doubt, that daughter of Scandars. Realizing this new fact, the Emperor’s lips twisted into a smirk.
“Has it already started?”
But then, as if she had heard the news from somewhere, the Empress appeared.
That cunning one. He even calculated that I wouldn’t hand this over easily and called in his mother to support him!
The Emperor was certain that it was his son who had summoned her.
“Wouldn’t brighter clothes be better?”
The Emperor felt anger surge as the Empress immediately began criticizing his appearance. How different this was from Sig and Britia, who acted like they hadn’t seen each other in years every time they met.
“Britia, do you really think if I pick out clothes for His Majesty, he’ll willingly wear them?”
Sensing that the Emperor was slowly starting to boil, the Empress deliberately asked Britia.
“He will wear them gladly.”
The Emperor glared at Britia as she answered.
“Just keep your mouth shut.”
Britia lowered her head.
“I told you to keep your mouth shut, not to lower your head!”
Angry, the Emperor snapped at her, asking if she had forgotten what he said yesterday. Britia quickly raised her head, her large eyes still filled with a sense of injustice, which only irritated the Emperor further as he clicked his tongue in frustration.
“Painter, wait a moment.”
After giving the order to Kyra, the Emperor was about to leave the drawing room but then turned back to the Empress.
“Do I now have to beg you to please choose my clothes?”
“You don’t need to beg, but it would be nice if you could ask more gently.”
The Emperor muttered under his breath about how she was pushing it, but the Empress pretended not to hear. Her actions, which seemed to disregard his dignity, made the Emperor seethe with anger.
“If it’s bright clothes you want, then come and pick them out for me.”
He managed to say this while suppressing his fury.
“It’s not entirely satisfactory, but you’re improving.”
The Empress laughed, linking arms with him. The Emperor found her certainty that this would please him irritating.
But at the same time, he felt a sense of pride swell in his chest, knowing that for the first time, he and the Empress had shown a natural, affectionate side of themselves as parents in front of their son.
Britia was about to follow them but paused, turning to look at Kyra. Although her expression seemed calm, her eyes betrayed her inner turmoil.
“His Highness won’t eat you up, so don’t worry,” Britia whispered to her after glancing at the Crown Prince.
“And don’t lose confidence, because you’re someone worthy of His Highness’s admiration.”
Britia took Kyra’s cold, still trembling hand and shared some warmth with her.
“If things go well, you owe me one.”
With that, Britia quickly followed the Emperor before he could scold her. There wasn’t even time to ask what she should say.
Left alone with the Crown Prince in the drawing room, Kyra swallowed dryly. When she finally turned to look at him, he met her eyes with a soft smile.
She wasn’t completely uncomfortable with him, having seen him a few times before. It was just embarrassing, considering she had shown him her tear-streaked face the previous day.
“Shall we talk until His Majesty returns?” the Crown Prince suggested, encouraging the hesitant Kyra to sit rather than stand awkwardly.
Kyra wetted her dry lips before sitting across from him. It seemed Britia had encouraged her to speak well, hoping he would make her a court painter.
But would he really do that? Kyra doubted the sincerity of his earlier statement about wanting to take her in if the Emperor wasn’t pleased with her work.
Someone with a collection like his has no reason to covet someone like me.
Despite Britia’s words not to lose confidence, Kyra couldn’t help but feel like digging herself into the ground whenever it came to painting.
“You didn’t look well yesterday. Did you get some rest?” the Crown Prince asked, breaking the silence.
Kyra took a deep breath and raised her head.
“Thank you for your concern. And I apologize for showing such a disgraceful side of myself in front of Your Highness.”
She tried to sound like she wasn’t scared, like he didn’t intimidate her at all. The Crown Prince narrowed one of his eyes slightly in response.
“…Actually, I overheard your conversation with Britia yesterday. You think I only care about painting?”
Kyra’s mind went cold.
“I’m sorry, Your Highness. That remark was…”
Her mind went blank, and she couldn’t think of any excuse. How much did he know? Did he hear about her being locked up or even the part where she called him a eunuch?
Kyra waited anxiously for the Crown Prince to speak.
“Looking back, I realize I’ve only talked to you about painting,” he said with a sigh, admitting that he knew nothing about her interests beyond her love for landscape painting.
“There’s no need for Your Highness to concern yourself with such trivial matters.”
At her words, calling it “trivial matters,” the Crown Prince’s brows furrowed momentarily.
“But I’m really curious, Lady Kyra—have you ever tried to seduce me intentionally?”
The Crown Prince muttered loudly that he couldn’t recall any such attempt, no matter how hard he thought.
“If you can’t remember, it must be because I lack any particular charm that would catch Your Highness’s attention.”
The Crown Prince rested his chin on his hand and stared intently at Kyra, who was clearly lying.
“Then there’s definitely something wrong with me if I’m so blind that I can’t even notice the charm of a woman trying to seduce me.”
His muttered words were strangely suggestive.
“Could you perhaps show me what you did?”
Kyra hesitated, unsure of his intentions. Then, she stood up and approached him. Raising her hand near his cheek, she met his gaze and paused, though she didn’t actually touch him. A tense atmosphere filled the drawing room.
She hadn’t planned to try anything on him. Besides, she didn’t think he was the type of man who would fall for something like that. If he were, he would have had a Crown Princess by now.
Yet there was a peculiar heat and anticipation in his eyes.
Could he actually be feeling something?
“Your Highness, do you find me attractive?” Kyra asked, and the Crown Prince gently grasped a strand of her hair.
“I don’t think I’ll ever find someone as attractive as you.”
Kyra glanced at the hand that was stroking her hair.
Britia, is this what you meant by having something to rely on? Was it really that easy to win him over?
“Do you remember promising to arrange a match for me?”
“Of course. You said any man would do as long as you could get married. But I’ve been delaying it because of my own selfishness.”
This seemed like the perfect opportunity. Kyra placed her hand on top of his, which was still playing with her hair.
“It’s not just any man. There’s someone specific that I want.”
The Crown Prince hesitated for a moment before he took Kyra’s hand in his.
“Kyra,” he said in a serious tone, pulling out a small navy blue jewelry box. It seemed as if he had prepared it beforehand. Kyra didn’t hesitate to extend her hand.
The Crown Prince let out a soft chuckle at her action of not even opening the box and proceeded to slip the ring onto her finger.
As Kyra looked down at the ring, she was filled with a strange sense of unease.
I’ve finally managed to free myself from my father, so why do I feel this way? Is it because he’s a tall man who intimidates me?
“As the Crown Princess, you’ll be able to paint freely anywhere. And of course, the paintings will be entirely yours.”
Kyra suddenly understood the source of her unease.
“But I would like it if you showed me your paintings. It would be even better if I could watch you paint.”
He’s still only thinking about painting. He says he’s attracted to me, but is he really? Kyra doubted his true intentions.
She placed her hand on the armrest of his chair and leaned in to press her lips against his.
“Weren’t you the one who said you were sorry for only talking about painting?” Kyra said after pulling back. The Crown Prince smiled slightly before kissing her again. Perhaps provoked by her words, his kiss became rougher, and Kyra felt her neck bending under the pressure. She grabbed his collar and then pushed him away.
The Crown Prince’s eyes widened in surprise, not having expected her to grab his collar. For a moment, Kyra stared at him, now with her lipstick smudged on his lips, as if she were admiring a painting. She felt slightly more at ease.
—
That night, as usual, Sig came to take a walk with Britia, but when she appeared with a sullen face, he was taken aback.
Sig wasn’t sure what he had done wrong, but he could sense that she was upset with him. As he nervously tried to read her mood, Britia finally spoke after remaining silent for a while.
“Did you know that His Highness was planning to propose to Kyra?” she asked.
When Sig nodded, Britia bit her lip.
“I told you about it yesterday, didn’t I?”
Sig was confused about why she was asking.
“When? All you said last night was that His Highness wanted to keep her by his side so she could paint.”
Britia glared at Sig, recalling the events of that day.
When they returned to the drawing room with the Emperor, who had changed his clothes, there was an odd atmosphere. The Crown Prince wasted no time in asking for permission to marry Kyra.
“I was the only one left there, gaping like a fool!”
It was clear that the Empress had known from the start and had deliberately left to give them privacy. Even the Emperor, who gritted his teeth, had anticipated this.
“I’m sorry if I surprised you.”
Sig apologized, but Britia was still sulking and sat down on the steps. Sig sat close to her, trying to read her mood.
Britia sharply turned her head away as if she couldn’t see him and scooted over to the side.
“Please don’t sit next to me.”
When Sig tried to close the distance again, Britia coldly warned him. But Sig, determined, pursed his lips and moved closer.
“I said don’t!”
“I refuse.”
Seeing his resolute expression, Britia suddenly jumped up and dashed up the stairs to escape.
If I was going to run away, I should have gone down instead of up!
By the time Britia reached the fourth floor, she was out of breath and regretted her decision. As she leaned against the railing, she felt something soft in her hand.
It was too dark to see clearly, but the sensation in her hand felt like a tail. Britia assumed it was Sig’s and tightened her grip.
He really is fast. He must have caught up easily. I should have just run from the start.
Suddenly, a high-pitched, agonized scream pierced Britia’s ears. Sig had never screamed like that before, and she quickly turned around in shock.
“Sig!”
“Britia, give it up. There’s nowhere else to go.”
But Sig was still at the bottom of the stairs, arms outstretched, looking up at her. Yet she could still hear that piercing scream echoing in her ears.
And most importantly, his tail was tucked between his legs.
Then who is the one screaming right now?
