"By the way... you're quite cute.
Will you go out with me?"
Marin blinked and immediately glanced at Daya.
Daya stared at the man with an expression of pure bewilderment.
"The lady."
He pointed directly at Marin, his finger unwavering.
"I mean *that* lady, specifically."
His hand dropped the instant Elmis shifted to block his view.
"*Me?*" Marin raised a finger to her own chest, incredulous.
"Yeah."
The man nodded as if confirming something to himself, his eyes crinkling with an easy smile.
"The lady is exactly my type.
So—how about it?
Want to date me?"
"What?"
Marin's eyes widened.
What was this man even *talking* about?
"Right, right—if we're going to meet properly, I should introduce myself first.
My name is—"
And then—
"There he is!"
A crowd of men burst through the café door, their eyes locked on the yellow-haired stranger.
"Ah, caught already?"
He flashed a mischievous grin at Marin.
"Lady, we'll meet again."
Without missing a beat, he turned to the employee behind the counter.
"Back entrance?"
The moment the employee pointed, he bolted.
The men crashed after him like a wave.
Silence descended.
Marin and Daya exchanged stunned looks.
"...What *was* that?"
"Some sort of strange person, apparently."
"You don't say."
Marin shook her head slowly.
A chill crept down her spine at the thought of encountering him again.
Elmis opened the door at the sound.
Kanolam, the butler, gave a measured nod and stepped inside, his arms laden with a towering stack of invitations.
Marin looked up from her book on the sofa, her eyes narrowing at the sight.
"Didn't we decline everyone just a few days ago?"
The butler offered a gentle smile.
"These are *new* invitations, my lady."
"There are that many?"
"It would seem..."
Kanolam paused, suppressing the twitch at the corner of his mouth, "...that everyone is rather eager to see the lady's carriage."
The mere fact that a diamond carriage had crossed through the capital was unprecedented enough.
That it had been heading toward the Western Duke's townhouse made it a sensation.
And once word spread that the carriage belonged to the Duke's fiancée—the invitations had begun to rain down like autumn leaves.
"Please decline them all politely, as before."
"Of course.
However..."
The butler's expression grew more serious.
"I brought these because there is one matter I cannot resolve alone."
He extended the topmost envelope.
Golden paper.
Imperial seal.
A charter from the Crown Prince himself.
"Oh?"
Marin opened it carefully.
The elegant calligraphy was decorated with elaborate flourishes and courtly pleasantries, but the essence was simple enough:
"Butler, when did this arrive?"
"Just now.
I came directly from the gate."
Marin turned to Elmis.
"What time is it?"
"Three in the afternoon."
She checked the time written in the letter, and her mouth fell open.
"It says here that His Highness will arrive in *one hour*?"
"I shall arrange to receive him in the main parlor," Kanolam said smoothly, understanding without needing to be told.
"Please do.
Elmis—where is Daya?"
"She should be at home."
Marin rose quickly from the sofa.
The fact that the Crown Prince wished to see Daya in person—after their *chance* encounter in the garden days earlier—seemed like a positive sign.
If rumors about them had reached his ears, surely he wouldn't be pursuing her so openly.
She made her way to Daya's chambers and knocked.
The maid opened the door.
"Daya."
Daya sat by the window, embroidery hoop in hand, and looked up with a warm smile.
"Teacher!
What brings you here?"
Instead of answering, Marin turned to the maid.
"Would you give us a moment alone?"
"Of course."
The maid slipped out.
Elmis remained stationed at the door.
Once they were alone, Marin pressed the letter into Daya's hands.
Daya's eyes moved across the lines.
When she finished, she placed the letter on the windowsill without a flicker of emotion.
Her eyes brightened with anticipation, but Daya quietly shook her head.
"Could we... not meet today?"
Her voice was soft, almost fragile.
"I don't want to see him."
"Of course!"
Marin nodded without hesitation.
"If you don't want to, then we won't."
"Thank you, Teacher Marin."
A faint blush colored Daya's cheeks as she whispered her gratitude.
Marin offered an encouraging smile and rose to her feet.
"Since he's coming regardless, I'll go down to receive him.
Will you stay here?"
"Yes.
I'll remain in my room."
"Very well."
As she hurried out, Marin glanced down at her pale blue dress.
She went directly to the guest parlor without changing.
When she opened the door, the Crown Prince was already seated.
Marin quickly masked her surprise and sank into a respectful curtsy.
"Marin of House Viscount Shuvenets greets His Royal Highness the Crown Prince."
"Rise."
His voice was warm, dismissive of formality.
"Please—don't trouble yourself with such ceremonies in the future."
"Yes, Your Highness."
When Marin straightened and met his gaze directly, he smiled—almost *shyly*—and looked away.
"I arrived... a little early."
Marin suppressed the furrow threatening her brow.
Her head was beginning to ache.
She took a seat across from him.
"Will Lady Adria be joining us shortly?"
The prince's gaze drifted hopefully toward the door.
"I'm afraid Daya isn't feeling well today—she won't be coming down.
I'll be your companion this afternoon."
"Is she very ill?"
Alarm flickered in those golden eyes, genuine and unguarded.
At moments like these, the Crown Prince was surprisingly simple-hearted.
Marin smiled, though the expression felt tight on her face.
"Thank you for your concern.
She'll feel better soon."
"I see."
He brightened slightly.
"Then if I visit tomorrow, will I be able to see her?"
"Ah, well, that is—"
"Don't come again."
The Duke swept into the parlor, radiating cold displeasure like frost rolling off a glacier.
"Ah, but this time I didn't come to see *you*, Duke."
The prince's smile remained pleasant, unruffled.
"I came to visit Lady Adria."
"That suits neither me nor my niece."
"Then perhaps Lady Shuvenets—"
"That doesn't—"
"*It suits me perfectly.*"
Marin cut across the Duke's refusal, her smile radiant and unwavering.
The Duke turned sharply toward her, displeasure carving deep lines into his expression.
She ignored him entirely.
Keeping her gaze fixed on the prince, she continued to smile.
She couldn't allow the Duke to stand between them.
"*Marin.*" His voice dropped, low and warning.
"What?"
She tilted her head innocently.
"I would simply enjoy seeing His Highness more often."
The prince's face lit up at her words, his smile shy and hopeful, as though the very room had grown brighter around him.
The Duke pressed his lips into a thin, hard line.
His brows drew together like storm clouds gathering.
Marin kept her attention on the prince, unflinching.
"Your Highness—in return, I must ask for one promise."
"Name it."
The prince leaned forward eagerly, grateful to have found an ally.
"Whatever you wish."
"From now on, please refrain from arriving as you did today.
Letters first.
A clear agreement.
*Then* a visit."
"Ah..."
The prince's expression fell, guilt softening his features.
"I was hasty.
I didn't think it through.
I'll be more careful in the future."
The Duke stood with his arms crossed, silent as a marble statue, his lips pressed tight.
"Then, Your Highness—" Marin gestured gracefully toward the tea service.
"Would you care to join me for tea?"
"With pleasure."
"As will I."
The Duke suddenly moved closer to her side.
Marin glanced at his profile, one eyebrow arching slightly.
"Are you not busy?"
"Not anymore."