“The Second Prince’s bedroom door still hasn’t opened today, has it?”
“No way—it’s been shut for a week already?”
“Their chemistry must be off the charts.”
“Even the first prince didn’t last that long on his wedding night.”
The maids passing through the corridor of the Second Prince's Palace whispered to each other, their voices catching the morning light like birdsong.
“Must be nice to be born with fiery mana.”
“As if that alone would cut it.”
“Compatibility’s what really matters—”
“Compatibility!”
“Exactly. And these two? They’ve got that rare harmony.”
“It’s getting hot in here just thinking about it.”
“Oh, you—!”
Their laughter burst out as a young man with brown hair strode up behind them, his brow furrowed deep.
“Are these the new maids?” he asked the maid beside him, voice icy.
“Yes, Superintendent. They were rushed in to serve the Second Prince’s wife.”
“Training them was your job, Isolde. Don’t tell me you blew it off.”
Lucius gave her a sharp look. She flustered, then straightened. “I apologize. I’ll dismiss them all right away.”
“What’s next?”
“I’ll make sure they learn to hold their tongues. Nothing leaves this palace.”
Satisfied with her resolve, Lucius turned his gaze forward, scanning the maids ahead.
Honestly, he couldn’t blame them entirely.
Most of what they’d said was true.
Today marked one full week since the Second Prince had vanished behind his bedroom door with his new bride.
They weren’t even pretending to be discreet about it—acting like they were on a never-ending honeymoon, never stepping outside.
Which meant Lucius had to leave their meals outside the door three times a day.
At least the trays came back empty, so they were eating.
But no one had gone in or come out.
“I hope they show their faces today.”
Lucius murmured, pressing his fingers to his temples.
The imperial family’s welcome banquet for the newest member—the Second Prince’s wife—was set for today, exactly one week after the wedding.
Normally the Emperor hosted this first gathering, but confined to his sickbed, the duty fell to the Empress.
So today would bring together the Empress, the First Prince and his wife, and the Second Prince and his wife.
For days, the Empress’s palace had buzzed with preparations—cooking, decorating, assigning staff.
She’d gone all out to welcome the Second Prince’s bride.
After all, it was unthinkable for the couple to skip such an event.
Lucius sighed softly.
‘They haven’t lost all sense, even in the throes of their honeymoon…’
Still, he couldn’t bring himself to knock on the door of a pair lost in newlywed passion.
He kept walking, hoping Franz would remember what day it was.
The clatter of dishes stirred Elisia from sleep.
As her lashes fluttered, a quiet voice came from beside her: “You awake?”
Franz greeted her with a bright smile, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
She flinched slightly at the chill of his skin.
Even after all his touches, she still wasn’t used to it.
“How are you feeling? Any dizziness left?”
“I’m fine.”
Elisia answered flatly, pushing herself up.
Franz was already there, sliding a hand behind her back to ease her upright against the headboard.
“Lucius made your favorite—French toast.”
He watched her face as he cut the toast into small bites.
Elisia stared silently at the tray before her.
One full week had passed.
She hadn’t crossed the threshold once.
She ate only because Franz fretted over her health.
But what weighed on her more than her condition was his relentless presence.
“I can feed myself.”
What drained her most was his constant, nonstop attentiveness.
She turned her face away, trying to carve out a sliver of independence.
Franz blinked, embarrassed.
“You still look pale.”
Elisia drew a slow breath against his smothering care.
“I told you—I’m fine now.”
When she stressed the words, he nodded slowly.
But his eyes never left her face, scanning her features.
*He treats me like I’m sick.*
She exhaled again and picked up her toast.
The intensity of his stare began to dull her thoughts.
A week ago, Elisia had collapsed under the backlash of Franz’s mana.
The instant she lost consciousness, he’d yanked his mana back and begun fussing over her.
When she woke, he’d claimed he needed to stabilize their mana bond—and hadn’t let go of her since.
Under the guise of calming their mana, Franz had clung to her day and night for seven straight days.
The longer she stayed in his arms, the more her nausea faded… and the tighter their mana bond grew.
But the stronger that bond became, the sharper the pain inside her grew.
And it had nothing to do with mana.
“Have some juice too.”
He pressed a glass into her hand.
Elisia was starting to get used to this Franz—the gentle, attentive version so alien to the man she remembered from her past life.
Which made it hurt even more.
As she sipped her apple juice, she watched him slice more toast.
His fussy behavior clashed violently with the Franz she’d known before.
He seemed remade, determined to be the perfect husband this time around.
Deep down, Elisia found herself wishing it was real.
Because—despite her hatred for him—she had once loved him enough to burn that hatred into her bones.
But life didn’t work that way.
When Elisia ran through the past week, her expression darkened.
Franz’s kindness was endless—but always served a purpose.
He never did anything without gain.
She knew him too well.
This wouldn’t last.
“We have to go to the royal banquet today.”
“Right.”
Elisia answered calmly, tracing the water rings on her cup with a fingertip.
She wanted to pretend none of this was real.
Just to linger here a little longer.
But…
“It’s mandatory, isn’t it?”
Franz seemed bothered by her protest.
He took the cup from her hands gently. “It won’t take long.”
He watched her face as he added, “If you’re not fully recovered, we can postpone.
Nothing matters more than stabilizing the mana.”
When he stressed “mana” again, the light died in Elisia’s eyes.
She shook her head.
“You don’t need to worry about that.
You checked it last night.”
And yes—last night, Franz had held her again, whispering that it was to stabilize their mana bond.
Mana had become his excuse to never let go.
Every time he hugged her, he murmured that their bond existed only for mana—so she shouldn’t think of leaving his side.
As if she didn’t already know.
“I’m starting to feel suffocated anyway.”
“It’s okay.”
Elisia gave him a smirk that didn’t reach her eyes.
He opened his mouth, then closed it again.
“So the wedding night’s finally over, huh?”
She said it, watching his hesitation.
His dark eyes lingered on hers a beat longer than necessary before sliding away.
“You know, the whole palace is talking about how well you two get along.”
Elisia’s fork froze midair over her smoked salmon salad.
She was seated in the Empress’s banquet hall now.
After that mortifying exchange with Franz that morning, she’d fled back to her own chambers.
Though only a thin wall divided her room from Franz’s, it might as well have been a stone fortress.
Of course, Sarah saw it differently.
While helping Elisia into her dress, she couldn’t stop gushing about how adored the Second Prince made her feel.
At first, Elisia hadn’t grasped why.
She’d written it off as more chatter about their endless honeymoon.
But when Sarah produced a halter-neck lace dress, Elisia finally got what all the fuss was about.
*He literally brands you as his.*
*Even if it’s not required, everyone knows you belong to him.*
Sarah’s flushed, angry whisper was enough to burn Elisia’s cheeks bare—she didn’t need a speck of makeup.
“The Second Prince makes you feel safe.”
“The Empress gave you Roshanak’s necklace because the Prince has claimed you.”
“What a blessing!”
As she replayed Sarah’s words, Elisia lifted her gaze—and locked eyes with Glenna across the table.
Glenna’s smile curled up at the corners, crescent-shaped and knowing.