CHAPTER 120: ARGUMENT

"What are you doing here, Katharina?" Maria asked, her lips curling into a faint, forced smile that didn’t quite touch her eyes.

Damn it.

Why does she always show up at the worst possible time?

I turned to regard the one woman who seemed to exist solely to be the bane of my existence. To this day, I couldn’t wrap my head around why she hated me so much. All I did was answer a random question! When she asked what I thought of marrying a royal, I remarked—perhaps too bluntly—that I wouldn’t be caught dead doing so. That was it. That single comment ignited a relentless vendetta. Ever since, she’d been hell-bent on making my life miserable.

"I came to visit the palace. Or... is that a crime, Princess?" Katharina retorted smoothly, a saccharine smile on her face as her grip around my wrist tightened.

It was only then that I realized what was happening.

Oh. Fuck.

My gaze snapped up to meet Maria’s. Her piercing eyes were locked on our clasped hands, and I could almost feel the judgment rolling off her in waves.

"Huh...?" I stammered, yanking feebly at my wrist, but Katharina’s hold was unrelenting. I looked back at her, only to be met with a smug, self-satisfied smirk.

Kill me now.

"It isn’t... assuming your visit has a legitimate purpose," Maria replied icily, her voice deceptively light as she took a step closer. Her gaze briefly flicked to my wrist. "And I would advise you to unhand my servant. He’s supposed to be carrying out the assignment I sent him on."

"Oh?" Katharina’s brow arched in mock surprise. "But the last time I checked, Yuriel was the prince’s personal servant. I wonder... when exactly did that arrangement change?" she asked, resting her chin on her fingers in an exaggerated performance of deep thought.

"It changed today." Maria’s voice took on a steely edge as she closed the distance between us, standing before the both of us. "So, I’ll ask you once more to stop interfering with him, Katharina. You should be focusing on Lodric, shouldn’t you? Last I heard, you were a potential partner,"

"...I see." Katharina finally released my wrist, fixing me with one last smirk before refocusing on Maria. "As for the prince, well, I doubt that kind of... ’union’ will ever come to fruition," she said with a faint sigh, her tone dripping with indifference.

Wait. What?!

Then why the hell was she still sending him letters?

Honestly, what’s wrong with these nobles?

Maria’s expression didn’t waver, though I noticed her lips press into a thin line. "And why do you seem so certain about that? I can assure you, my brother would have no issue accepting you as his fiancée. So, why does it sound like you’re the one opposing what seems like an inevitable arrangement?" she asked sharply.

I caught it—the slight twitch at the corners of Katharina’s mouth. That smug mask of hers was cracking, even if only just.

"Princess," Katharina began, her tone honeyed but undeniably sharp, "there’s never been any formal agreement about the engagement you speak of. For all we know, the prince could end up engaged to someone who shares his royal status. A princess, perhaps." She smiled sweetly, as though her words weren’t barbed.

Maria gave a crisp nod, her expression unreadable.

Why does it feel like this entire argument is somehow about me?

And if Katharina isn’t interested in the prince, then why is she even here?

"But," Maria continued, her tone turning remarkably calm, "as you said, nothing is set in stone. So why tarnish your reputation this early in the game?" She turned her gaze back to me, her expression cool and composed.

I bit back a sigh.

God, I really hate being just a powerless servant who can’t refuse his master’s commands. I hate that someone like her—a conniving, spiteful bitch—could strut in and make my life miserable for no reason other than her own entertainment.

But what could I do? Smile and endure it, like always.

Fuck this palace. Fuck these nobles. And, most importantly, fuck my lot in life.

If my freedom wasn’t in a few months time, I would have excaped long ago.

"...I don’t understand what you mean by that. Yuriel here is the prince’s servant, and since he’s always accompanied the prince during his visits to me, he’s become a constant presence in my life—a friend, if I may say so. I don’t see what’s wrong with talking to my friend," she responded. I was genuinely stunned.

A friend?

This was the first time someone had said that to me without a hint of derision or insult. For the first time, someone didn’t immediately reduce me to the label of ’servant.’ Not even Lodric, that bastard I’ve been stuck with since childhood, ever called me such. Instead, he shamelessly throws me into danger like a pawn, knowing full well his psycho sister wants me dead. Why does he do it? Is it because I managed to beat him again? Am I supposed to start pretending to lose just to appease his fragile ego? Pathetic.

Perhaps I should start pretending to lose; clearly, his pride is more pathetic and fragile than I gave him credit for.

"A friend?" Maria’s voice interrupted, smooth as silk, though I didn’t miss the thinly veiled anger laced beneath it. "Someone of your standing is not permitted to have... such a friend." Her statement was as much of an insult as it was a warning.

This psycho never ceases to amaze me.

She’s obsessed—anyone with half a brain could see it as clear as day. I’ve known it ever since the madness started after I indirectly rejected whatever ridiculous feelings she harbored for me. But seriously, is that a good enough reason to try to kill me on a near-daily basis?

Maria laughed, one of those bizarre aristocratic laughs, her hand poised daintily on her lip as if she were above it all. "Oh~? But I choose the friends I want to have. Come to think of it, the prince did inform me that Yuriel’s freedom is scheduled just before the academy term begins. I wonder how you’ll feel about that," she mused, her words a loaded dagger.

I could feel Maria’s demeanor change instantly. Her eyes darkened, the storm beneath them brewing visibly.

Damn it.

Her sharp nod signified her retreat as she turned on her heel. "Then I’ll take my leave," she announced curtly, the venom in her tone unmistakable.

"Yuriel," her voice called again, halting my fleeting breath. Reluctantly, I turned to face the bane of my existence.

"Yes, my lady," I said with an obedient bow, resentful but well-practiced.

"If I don’t have that core in my hands before sunset... Hehehe," she trailed off, her eerie laughter all I needed to hear, to know how screwed I was.

Just fuck me all over!