Part 1: Whispers, Half-Truths, and Delusions
The Academy, for all its prestige and architectural grandeur, was ultimately no different from a common marketplace when it came to one thing: gossip. And if gossip was fuel, then the events of the Crown Prince's birthday ball were a roaring, uncontrollable wildfire.
By the next morning, the peaceful lake in the academy gardens had become the epicenter of a dozen different scandalous tales.
"Did you hear?" a second-year noble girl whispered behind her fan in the hallway. "The Crown Pince's fiancee deliberately threw herself into the freezing waters just to elicit His Highness's sympathy!"
"That's not what I heard," her companion replied eagerly, leaning in. "I heard she tried to push Lady Angela into the lake out of pure jealousy, but His Highness intervened, and in the chaos, she dragged the Crown Prince down with her! And then—can you believe the audacity?—she faked a fainting spell so he would have no choice but to carry her away!"
Aoi, walking a few paces behind them with his hands tucked casually into his uniform pockets, let out a long, silent sigh. His eye twitched slightly. If only they knew, he thought bitterly. If only they knew that the 'audacious seductress' actually just lost her balance because she was startled, and then sneezed directly into the future ruler's face.
Unfortunately, truth was a boring commodity in the halls of the Academy.
The rumors grew more sinister with each passing hour. The camp that supported Angela—largely made up of lower-ranking nobles hoping to curry favor with a rising star—began painting Kii as a calculated, manipulative villainess who was using underhanded tricks to trap the Crown Prince.
The problem was that the incident hadn't been entirely private. Aside from Aoi, Arren, Akai, and Midori, several other students had been lingering near the terrace that night.
"It was a disgraceful display," Rhuifen remarked coldly during their strategy meeting later that afternoon. He sat at the long table, his fingers tapping a rhythmic, displeased beat against the wood. Jupiter and Venus stood behind him like loyal, silent statues, nodding in unison at their master's tone. "A future empress should possess dignity. To cause such a public scene and drag His Highness into the mud—literally—shows a severe lack of breeding." From other people perspective he just sound like someone who critic Kii but the people who known him knew the reason he said that is because of jealousy. He loved Kii after all, romantically.
Across the room, Noah leaned against the wall, tossing a small magical catalyst up and down in his hand. His sharp eyes flickered with amusement, though his tone remained neutral. "Oh, come now, Rhuifen. It looked more like a comedy of errors from where I was standing. Though, I must admit, I've never seen the Crown Prince move quite that fast. He looked... rather desperate."
"Desperate to salvage the situation from her incompetence, no doubt," Rhuifen countered sharply.
But no one's reaction compared to the absolute, twisted reality existing solely inside the mind of Angela.
Sitting in the corner of the student lounge, Angela clutched her lace handkerchief so tightly her knuckles turned white. Her eyes were red, but they weren't filled with grief—they were burning with a fanatical, delusional conviction.
Arzen-sama didn't want to carry her, Angela repeated to herself, her mind masterfully twisting the memory until it fit her own narrative. I saw his face. He looked so fierce, so angry! Yes, he was furious that the wretched girl had ruined his special night. He only picked her up and carried her away so she wouldn't embarrass the Imperial family any further in public. He was shielding the Academy from her vulgarity!
She remembered how Arzen had ignored her earlier in the day, how he hadn't even looked at her after her accidental spell during the exam. He was testing me, she reasoned, a fragile, manic smile touching her lips. He has to pretend to ignore me to protect me from that jealous monster, Kii. Yes... that must be it. Arzen-sama is protecting me. He is waiting for me to save him from her.
"Just you wait, Kii," Angela whispered into the empty air, her voice trembling with a terrifying blend of malice and self-delusion. "His Highness will see through your pathetic tricks. A love built on a clumsy lie cannot last."
Watching her from across the room, Aoi shuddered. He didn't even need to read her mind to know she was deep in her own halu world. He rubbed his temples, feeling a massive headache coming on.
What are they doing, really? Aoi thought, exasperated. If only they knew what actually happened after Arzen carried her off...
Part 2: The Broken Dam
The truth of what happened after the splash was a story kept behind the heavy, locked doors of the Crown Prince's private chambers.
To Arzen, the memory was a blur of adrenaline, cold water, and a sudden, overwhelming fiercely protective instinct that had entirely consumed his senses. The moment they had plunged into the lake, his analytical, cold demeanor had shattered. When they emerged, and Kii had sneezed right into his face—her cheeks flushed pink from a mix of embarrassment and the sudden chill—something inside him had simply snapped.
He hadn't thought about decorum. He hadn't thought about the onlookers. He had simply scooped her up, her wet dress dripping onto the marble floors, and marched straight to his quarters, ignoring every guard and servant in his path.
Now, a fire crackled loudly in the hearth of his private sitting room, casting deep orange and gold shadows across the luxurious space.
Arzen had immediately deposited Kii onto his plush, oversized velvet sofa. He was operating on pure, frantic instinct.
"Stay here. Don't move," he commanded, his voice a low, rough rumble that lacked its usual noble polish. He rushed to his wardrobe, pulling out a heavy, thick blanket made of imported winter-fox fur. He marched back and threw it over her, wrapping her up until she looked like a small, bundled doll. "You're freezing. I'll call the royal physician. If you catch a fever because of my carelessness—"
"Your Highness, wait!" Kii's voice broke through his panic. She was shivering, her teeth lightly chattering, but her amber eyes were wide and filled with concern. She reached out from the bundle of blankets, grabbing the edge of his sleeve. "I'm okay. A sneeze is just a sneeze. But... look at you, Your Highness."
Arzen blinked, momentarily startled. He looked down at himself. His formal birthday doublet was ruined, soaked through with lake water and clinging tightly to his broad chest and shoulders. Hair that was usually perfectly styled now hung in damp, dark strands across his forehead.
"I am fine," Arzen said flatly, dismissing it. "My constitution is—"
"No, you're not, Your Highness!" Kii insisted, her stubborn streak that Arzen did not know she has flaring up. She pulled at his sleeve, trying to drag him closer to the fire. "You were in the water just as long as I was. You need to be warm too. Sit down. At least take the edge of the blanket, Your Highness."
"Kii, I am the Crown Prince, I can handle a bit of cold—"
"Pardon me, Ypur Highness, but I don't care if you're the Emperor himself, you're shivering!" she argued, her face flushing a deeper crimson.
In her eagerness to care for him, Kii threw off half of the heavy blanket, intending to drape it over his shoulders. But her movements were clumsy, restricted by her heavy, soaked dress and the sheer volume of the fur. Arzen, trying to push the blanket back over her to keep her protected, caught her by the waist to steady her.
Their movements clashed. A foot caught on the edge of the rug, a wet hem tripped another, and in a clumsy, tangled struggle to take care of each other, they both collapsed.
Arzen fell forward, catching his weight on his forearms on either side of her head to keep from crushing her into the sofa.
The room went dead silent, save for the crackling of the fire.
Their lips had met.
It wasn't a planned, graceful kiss. It was an accident of gravity and momentum—a sudden, firm friction of warmth against warmth. Kii's eyes went wide as saucers, her breath catching entirely in her throat.
Arzen froze completely.
Every muscle in his body turned to stone. The world outside the room, the rumors, his duties, his title, the past timeline, the present life—everything evaporated into nothingness. There was only the sensation of her soft, trembling lips beneath his, and the scent of lake water and sweet floral perfume filling his senses.
Slowly, deliberately, Arzen didn't pull away.
Instead, the stiffness in his body melted into a heavy, dangerous tension. A low, dark sound escaped the back of his throat. The final barrier—the iron wall of self-restraint he had built to keep from overwhelming this version of Kii, who didn't yet know the depth of his feelings—crumbled into dust.
The dam had broken. And the floodwaters were unforgiving.
He tilted his head, deepening the kiss. Kii let out a soft, startled gasp against his mouth, and Arzen took the opportunity to claim her entirely. It was no longer a clumsy accident; it was a possessive, desperate pouring out of a desire he had suppressed for far too long. His hands left the sofa, one burying itself deeply into her damp, ruined hair, tilting her face up to receive him, while the other wrapped firmly around her waist, crushing her body against his chest.
"Y-Your Highness… A-Arzen-sama..." Kii managed to breathe out when his lips left hers for a split second, trailing down her jawline to the sensitive skin of her neck. Her hands, which had been resting against his chest to push him away, had lost all their strength, their fingers instead curling tightly into the wet fabric of his shirt. "Wait... we shouldn't..."
"I can't wait anymore," Arzen murmured against her skin, his voice entirely devoid of its usual cold restraint. It was raw, breathless, and laced with a terrifying hunger. "I've tried, Kii. I've tried to be patient. I've tried to let you take your time in this life. But when I saw you fall... when I thought of you hurting..."
He looked up, his dark eyes burning with an intense, darkened passion that made Kii's core tremble. There was no escape in those eyes. Even if she had wanted to run, she was already entirely trapped in his space, surrounded by his heat, his scent, and his overwhelming presence.
"You're my fiancée," Arzen whispered, his thumb caressing her flushed cheek, his gaze dropping to her swollen lips. "You said it yourself outside... it's my duty to take care of you. All of you."
Kii looked up at him, her heart hammering so loudly against her ribs she was certain he could hear it. The sheer intensity of his gaze was intoxicating, washing away her doubts, her fears of the rumors, and her defenses. A soft, yielding sigh escaped her lips, her eyelids fluttering half-shut as she unconsciously leaned into his touch.
That small, silent surrender was the match that lit the powder keg.
Arzen didn't waste another second. He scooped her up from the sofa, the heavy fox-fur blanket falling away as he carried her the short distance to his grand, curtained bed.
The night stretched on, the fire in the hearth burning down to embers, but the heat within the room only intensified. Every touch was an unspoken confession, every breathless murmur a vow. For Kii, there was no chance to save herself from the tide of his affection, and as the hours bled into a long, steamy night, she found that she didn't want to be saved at all.
The Next Morning
The sun rose, casting bright streaks of morning light through the high windows of the Crown Prince's chambers.
Aoi stood outside the heavy wooden doors, holding a tray of hangover tea and light breakfast options. He had been waiting for twenty minutes, his arms growing slightly tired. He raised a hand, knocking firmly for the third time.
"Your Highness? It's Aoi. The Academy headmaster is asking for a report on the exam incident, and the rumor mill is currently projecting that my sister Kii has either fled the country or been locked in your dungeon. I need a status update."
A long, heavy silence followed.
Finally, the door cracked open just an inch. Arzen stood there. His hair was a mess, his shirt was loosely buttoned, and for the first time in his entire life, he looked completely relaxed, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk playing on his lips.
Behind him, through the crack in the door, Aoi could see a giant, messy pile of blankets on the bed, from which a single strand of familiar hair peeked out.
Arzen took the tray from Aoi's hands. "Tell the headmaster the report will be late. And tell the rumor mill..." Arzen glanced back at the bed, his expression softening into something incredibly fond and possessive. "...that they haven't seen anything yet."
The door shut firmly in Aoi's face.
Aoi stood alone in the hallway, blinking at the wood. He slowly raised a hand to his face, letting out a breath that was half-laugh, half-groan.
"Honestly," Aoi muttered to the empty corridor, "What are they doing, really?"
After agonizing for minutes whether he should blast the room and save his little sister or not, Aoi finally give up and go. Muttering and convicing himself that this is goo, this is what he planned, that it is good for Kii and Arzen's future.