"Dear, you’re going to worry her," the queen says, placing a hand over her husband’s. "We don’t want to burden you, Bianca, but the truth is, we place great hopes in you and your house. And I want you to know that Vincent is not engaged, and we would look very favorably on anything that might develop between you two. As a mother, I don’t want to impose my will on a son who is not the heir. I’d rather let him choose. As a queen, however, I can’t deny that a marriage between the two of you would be both beneficial and appropriate."

  She’s the one doing most of the talking. Is it because she was the eldest daughter of the previous king, whose only son died before reaching adulthood? Maybe that’s why, even though she speaks of supporting her husband in ruling, she plays such a significant role in decision-making. Or perhaps they’ve already discussed all this beforehand and decided that, since she’s a woman like me, I’d be more receptive if she were the one to speak?

  That last possibility makes the most sense.

  "Your Majesties," I say, "I am deeply honored that you think of me in such terms. Your son, Prince Vincent, is an excellent match, not just as a prince but as a person. Any young woman would be pleased with such an engagement. However, as you can see, I am already betrothed." I move my right hand so that the bracelet peeks out from the sleeve of my dress. The heart-shaped charm gleams in the sunlight streaming through the windows. "My engagement was arranged in my childhood."

  The queen looks at me for a few seconds, as if trying to read my mind or my heart, and then she smiles.

  It’s a radiant smile. With her golden eyes and blonde hair—just like her son’s—for a moment, she looks like the vision of a benevolent goddess.

  "Don’t worry about that, Bianca. There is nothing easier for me than annulling an engagement. All I need to do is compensate Baron Lacor and offer your parents something more beneficial in return. I wouldn’t want to make you unhappy, nor my son, but if you feel nothing for your current fiancé, I would be more than happy to help you."

  Yeah… break off my engagement with Marco in exchange for marrying Vincent.

  No, thank you.

  I mean, it’s not that I don’t like Vincent… (Shit, I can feel my cheeks burning just thinking about it, and she’s watching me). It’s just that I don’t even want to think about marriage—not yet, at least. And I’m certainly not in love with anyone, neither the prince nor Marco.

  For a brief moment, an image of Ronan flashes in my mind—kneeling before me, making me think he had feelings for me.

  Ug, no!

  Especially not Ronan.

  The queen gently squeezes the king’s hand, which she hasn’t let go of, and smiles at me.

  “I see. Don’t worry, Bianca. We would only intervene to dissolve your current engagement if you and our son ever decided to marry in the future. I’m glad you came. As a mother, I truly believe you two would make a wonderful couple and could accomplish great things together.”

  Accomplish great things? I think. Like what? Winning the games? Reaching level 20 by running dungeons?

  Because, with the gods forbidding it, military conquests are definitely out of the question.

  Honestly, maybe it’s for the best that I didn’t bring Vincent along. I’d probably die of embarrassment if his mother said all this in front of him.

  “Thank you, Your Majesty, that’s very kind of you.”

  “Just think about it, Bianca. My son is a good boy. I’m sure that even someone as pure as you, with an affinity for light, would feel at ease sharing your life and path with him.”

  I’d really like to know more about how this queen managed to marry the one she wanted. She seems to truly respect her children’s happiness.

  The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  “Your Highness, I’d like to ask your permission for something,” I say, hesitating.

  Because I do want her permission—but I don’t want her to think I’m asking because of a possible future marriage.

  “Go on,” the queen replies in a soft voice.

  “May I tell your son about my magical affinities? I don’t like lying to him.”

  She looks at me with those golden eyes, as if she can see straight into my soul. I don’t know what she thinks she sees, but she nods to herself, satisfied.

  “Let him know that he mustn’t tell anyone, please. Not even his childhood friends.”

  “Thank you very much,” I say sincerely.

  Curiously, she hasn’t asked the king for permission or even his opinion. Had they already discussed allowing me to tell Vincent?

  In any case, I stay with them for a few more minutes, keeping the conversation polite as we talk about my parents, the Counts L’Crom, and my siblings. Then, they dismiss me, and I head back to the academy.

  There, I say goodbye to Berta. Or at least, I try to.

  "Milady, aren’t you happy? A marriage with one of the princes is far more than your parents ever expected for you," she says, excited.

  As if they had proposed to her instead… Besides, what about Marco? Berta has been my maid for years; she must know Marco. Does she not like him?

  "Don’t get ahead of yourself, Berta. I’m sure the prince has other candidates in mind."

  Let’s see… In the otome game, there were three, because if you chose his sister, Lily, as the protagonist, Vincent’s route would be locked. Good thing.

  "Other candidates? Milady, from what I’ve seen when you’re together, I’d say he only has eyes for you."

  "When do you even see us together?" I ask, surprised, since I barely ever see Berta.

  "Sometimes, when passing through the hallways."

  Really? Because I don’t recall that at all.

  Is she spying on me?

  I shake my head to get rid of thoughts that aren’t helpful right now, dismiss her, and step into my room. The bodyguard stays at the door, and Berta gives me a strange little smile before leaving.

  Well, anyway I have to head to class, but first, I need a few moments alone. I lean against the wall and stay there, processing what just happened.

  I’ve been given free rein to break off my engagement with Marco if I let myself be chosen by Vincent.

  Vincent… the prince whom, in the otome game, both Mary and Judith could romance, as well as Katrina, the student with a high affinity for fire.

  Can I really trust that he could fall in love with me?

  Although, as things stand right now, out of those three, he only interacts with Mary. But at least in the ball, Theodore got ahead of him.

  And in a way, Berta is right. Sometimes he looks at me in a way that isn’t just curiosity—more like he’s trying to reach the depths of my soul… I shiver. Maybe he’s like his mother, someone who wants to truly understand others. I don’t think it’s anything more than that. I haven’t seen any longing in his gaze, nothing that suggest I’m a romantic route for him.

  But Bianca, I think to myself, this is a real world now. It’s no longer an otome game. Do you really believe Vincent, Alistair, and Theodore don’t have enough personality to choose who they fall in love with?

  The thought of Alistair and "personality" in the same sentence makes me smile. But yes, this is a real world. Its people feel real—they aren’t just characters in a video game.

  And yet, I’m still myself. The same Elisa I was on Earth. And if, in my twenties, I already felt too young for a serious relationship, then now, with this eighteen-year-old body, even more so. I really don’t want to be engaged to anyone.

  I sigh.

  If I hint at any of this to the Counts L’Crom, of course, they’ll annul my engagement with Marco—but not to leave my options open and trust that I’ll choose someone better, as I had planned to tell them. No, they’ll push for me to marry the prince instead.

  No… I won’t tell them a word about this.

  I’m going to see Marco at the ball. Maybe I can get him to break up with me instead. After all, in the game, Bianca wasn’t in a relationship.

  Which reminds me of the strange circumstances under which I saw him after leaving the dungeon…

  Was he about to break up with me, and somehow, without meaning to, I made him reconsider?

  I let myself slide down the wall until I’m sitting on the floor.

  This is insane.

  I stay like that for a couple of minutes before pulling myself up to head to class. That’s when I realize I can’t undo the corset laces by myself.

  Is that why Berta gave me that little smirk when I dismissed her?

  I step out to find her—or rather, I just open the door. The damn maid is standing right there next to the guard, wearing a condescending smile.

  “Come in, Berta,” I say.

  The maid enters with a triumphant nod, as if telling me, “I knew it” or “told you so”.

  And while she helps me, there’s no escaping her chatter about how excited the Counts will be when they find out.

  “Don’t you dare say a word,” I warn her.

  “But Lady Bianca,” she replies, feigning innocence, “do you really not know that one of my duties as your maid is to inform your parents of all your progress? And, of course, the most important progress for a young lady of marriageable age is the kind that, through marriage, can elevate her house.”

  I think this confirms that my maid is some kind of spy who reports everything to my parents.

  To this, all I can say is: damn it.

  Because suddenly, the ball—which I already wasn’t looking forward to—has turned into a nightmare I really don’t want to arrive in.