(Marquess Calren Delyss’s Estate)
“SOMEBODY SAVE ME—!”
Aranel’s scream echoed through the Delyss estate as she sprinted down the corridor like her life truly depended on it—which, at this moment, it absolutely did.
Behind her came the unmistakable sound of bare feet slapping against marble.
And Eva’s furious voice.
“I’M GOING TO KILL YOU, ARANEL!”
Servants shrieked and scattered. A maid dropped a tray. A butler dove behind a pillar. No one dared interfere as Aranel ran in frantic zigzags, clutching her skirts.
“Eva, wait!” Aranel cried. “We can talk about this like civilized people!”
Eva appeared at the end of the hall, knife raised, eyes blazing with humiliation-fueled rage.
“Civilized people don’t gift chocolates without a warning!”
Aranel screamed and ducked behind two maids. “Eva, please! Put the knife down! You’re terrifying!”
“I WAS THE ONE TERRIFIED,” Eva shouted, storming past the maids. “DO YOU KNOW WHAT I DID LAST NIGHT?!”
Aranel didn’t wait to hear the answer. She bolted into her bedroom and slammed the door—only for it to fly open a second later.
Eva stepped inside slowly, dangerously calm. Aranel scrambled backward and climbed onto the bed, clutching a pillow to her chest.
“Eva, think about this! Murder is illegal!”
Eva climbed onto the mattress after her, knife glinting.
“And embarrassment like should be illegal too.”
Aranel waved her hands wildly. “It’s not my fault!....Who told you to eat six chocolate at once?"
“And whose brilliant idea was it to NOT tell me what was in them?” Eva snapped, crawling closer.
“I wanted to surprise you!” Aranel wailed.
Eva smiled darkly and sat right on Aranel’s waist. “Oh, I was surprised. . Thoroughly.”
She raised the knife.
“EVA—!”
THUMP.
The knife stabbed straight into the mattress beside Aranel’s head.
Aranel screamed, then froze.
Slowly… she opened one eye.
“…I’m alive?”
Eva finally gave up, collapsing onto Aranel and burying her burning face into her shoulder.
“Do you have any idea,” she muttered, mortified, “how embarrassed I was in front of Kyel?”
Aranel’s lips curved into a knowing smile as she gently rubbed Eva’s back.
“Aww, don’t be embarrassed,” she said sweetly. “He’s your husband. What’s wrong with jumping on your own husband and asking him for love?”
Eva groaned softly. “You don’t understand…”
She lifted her head slightly, still sitting on Aranel’s waist, her cheeks flushed a deep crimson.
Aranel raised an eyebrow, eyes sparkling with mischief.
“Then tell me—did you have a great night with your husband?”
Eva hesitated. Then she bit her lip.
Her smile betrayed her before she could hide it. “…Yes,” she whispered.
The moment the word left her mouth, she covered her face with both hands.
Aranel laughed softly. “Look at you—smiling and acting all shy now.”
She clicked her tongue dramatically. “If you had such a wonderful night with your husband, then you should be thanking me—not trying to murder me.”
Eva slowly lowered her hands.
“…Thank you,” she said quietly.
Then she smiled, sincere and warm. “Thank you for your gift.”
Aranel’s teasing expression softened. She wrapped her arms around Eva and hugged her tightly. Eva returned the hug just as fiercely.
“I’m really happy for you,” Aranel said softly. “…And next time, eat chocolates.”
Eva hid her face again, mumbling, “Shut up.”
They stayed like that—laughing, embarrassed, and clinging to each other—holding on a little longer than necessary, their friendship warm and unbreakable.
--------------------------------------------------------
After the chaos finally settled, Eva and Aranel sat together in the quiet garden, the evening air cool against their skin. Steam curled softly from their teacups.
Eva took a slow sip, the warmth spreading through her chest.
“Ah… this feels good,” she murmured. “The tea is excellent.”
Aranel nodded, lifting her own cup. “It’s a new blend. Father received it from the royal palace along with the invitation for the upcoming hunting competition.”
Eva paused. “Hunting competition?”
Aranel set her cup down carefully on the table. “I forgot to tell you. A month from now, the royal family will be hosting it.”
Eva frowned slightly. “But the hunting competition usually takes place three months later. It’s always been held at the same time every year. Why move it forward?”
Aranel’s expression grew thoughtful. “Because of a prince from a neighboring empire. That’s the real reason.”
Eva looked at her, attentive. “Which prince?”
Aranel hesitated, then nodded to herself as if recalling something important. “Prince Velco Morvalis of the Dravareth Empire.”
“Oh… because of Prince Velco,” Eva said softly.
Aranel nodded. “And this time, the competition will be open to everyone. But there’s a condition—participants must compete in pairs. Anyone may enter, as long as they have a partner.”
Eva leaned forward. “What about the first prize?”
Aranel’s fingers tightened slightly around her teacup.
“A wish. Granted by the emperor himself. Anything you ask for—no matter what it is.”
Eva’s eyes widened. “That’s an incredible prize. One could ask for land, gold, even fortune. And since it’s in pairs, it won’t be too difficult.”
“Yes,” Aranel agreed quietly. “That’s why I submitted our names.”
Eva froze.
She choked on her tea, coughing sharply. “You—what did you say?”
“I registered us,” Aranel said calmly. “We’ll participate together.”
“Aranel, I can’t,” Eva said at once. “If Kyel finds out, he’ll be angry.”
“Then don’t tell him,” Aranel replied softly but firmly. “Please, Eva. I really want to win. I want that first prize.”
Eva hesitated. “Is there something you want to ask from the emperor?”
Aranel’s expression turned serious. “Yes. I want to get married. I’m going to wish for a husband.”
Eva laughed in disbelief, clutching her stomach. “If you want to marry, you could simply ask your father—or choose someone yourself.”
“You don’t understand,” Aranel said quietly. “If the emperor chooses for me, the man won’t be able to run away.”
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
She lowered her gaze. “You know my temper. I get irritated easily. No man would willingly stay.”
Her voice softened. “I’ve never felt this lonely before. But after watching you and your husband… I realized I want that too. I want to be loved.”
Aranel looked up, eyes steady.
“I wanted to participate alone, but the rules changed. That’s why I need your help.”
Eva stared at her, sadness filling her eyes.
Then she reached across the table and grasped Aranel’s hand. “I’ll do it.”
Aranel’s face brightened instantly. “You will?”
“Yes,” Eva said firmly. “And I’ll help you win the first prize. You have my word.”
“Thank you, Eva,” Aranel whispered, her voice thick with emotion.
Eva smiled faintly. “But we don’t even know how to use weapons. I can ride a horse, but that’s all.”
“Then we’ll learn,” Aranel said without hesitation. “We have a whole month. Come here every day—we’ll train in secret.”
Eva smiled and nodded. “Alright.”
The decision settled between them, quiet but heavy—one that would soon draw them closer to danger than either of them realized.
--------------------------------------------------------
(Ten Days Later)
(Royal Palace of Velmoria)
Eyan sat behind his desk, a quill resting between his fingers, its tip hovering above parchment filled with neat lines of ink. His gaze was fixed on the document before him, yet his mind was far from the words he had written.
Hans stood beside him, watching quietly. “Your Majesty,” he said at last.
No response.
Hans straightened. “Your Majesty.”
Eyan blinked, as if pulled back from somewhere distant. “Yes?”
Hans studied his expression. “You seem… lost in thought. Is something troubling you?”
Eyan set the quill down and rubbed his temple slowly. “I’ve been thinking about Eva,” he admitted. “She’s been acting strangely these past days.”
Hans leaned in slightly. “Strangely, Your Majesty? In what way?”
Eyan lowered his voice. “She spends nearly all her time with Lady Aranel. When she returns home, she’s always exhausted. And now she wakes before dawn every morning—to exercise.”
Hans considered this. “But Your Majesty, waking early and exercising is good for one’s health. What seems strange about that?”
Eyan’s hand struck the desk with a sharp sound. “You don’t understand. It’s not like her. This is completely out of her character.”
He stood abruptly. “Something is going on.”
Hans hesitated, then nodded. “Ah… that explains it.”
Eyan turned sharply. “Explains what?”
Hans said carefully, “Her Majesty is likely preparing for the upcoming hunting competition.”
The words hit like a blow.
Eyan stared at him. “The hunting competition? Why would prepare for that?”
Hans looked genuinely surprised. “Your Majesty… you didn’t know?”
Eyan’s eyes darkened. “Know what?”
“Lady Aranel Delyss and Her Majesty have submitted their names. They’re entering as a pair.”
Silence fell.
“…What did you say?” Eyan asked quietly.
Hans swallowed. “Her Majesty didn’t inform you?”
“No,” Eyan said slowly. “She didn’t.”
He held out his hand. “Bring me the list of participants.”
Hans retrieved the parchment at once and placed it before him.
Eyan scanned the names swiftly—nobles, knights, seasoned hunters—until his eyes stopped.
Participant No. 230 — Aranel Delyss & Eva
His grip tightened.
“They’re listed,” Hans confirmed softly.
Eyan’s jaw clenched. “Cancel their submission. They will not participate.”
Hans hesitated. “Your Majesty… the entries were submitted personally. We cannot revoke them without cause.”
Eyan ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “Just what is she thinking?”
His voice dropped, tight with worry. “She can’t even wield a weapon. What does she think she’ll do in a competition like this?”
He turned toward the window, fists clenched. “I can’t allow this to happen....I need to speak with her. Immediately.”
-------------------------------------------------------
(Aranel’s Estate — Training Ground)
Eva and Aranel collapsed onto the grass, chests rising and falling heavily as they struggled to catch their breath. Sweat clung to their skin, their limbs aching from relentless practice beneath the open sky.
Eva bent forward, hands braced on the ground, her voice unsteady.
“Aranel… it’s been ten days,” she said between breaths. “And we’ve only improved this much. At this rate, there’s no way we can win the first prize.”
Aranel wiped the sweat from her brow, staring ahead in silence for a long moment.
“…You’re right,” she admitted. “This isn’t enough.”
She pushed herself up onto her feet, resolve slowly settling into her posture.
“We need help.”
Eva followed her lead, standing as well. “You’re right. We need someone who actually knows how to use weapons.”
Aranel folded her arms, pacing slowly as she thought. The air between them grew quiet, broken only by their breathing.
Eva watched her closely. “Who are you thinking about?”
Aranel stopped.
Her eyes lifted—and then she smiled.
“I think I know someone who can help us.”
Eva’s face brightened with cautious hope. “Really? Who?”
Aranel stepped forward and gripped Eva’s shoulders firmly.
“Your husband.”
Eva blinked. “…Kyel?”
“Yes.”
Eva shook her head at once. “Aranel, I don’t think Kyel knows how to use weapons. He doesn’t like violence.”
Aranel frowned. “What does learning weapons have to do with violence?” she said calmly. “People learn them for protection. For discipline. Sometimes even as a skill or hobby.”
She looked Eva straight in the eyes. “I’m sure Brother-in-law can do it too.”
Eva hesitated. “You really think so?”
“I’m certain.”
Eva’s expression darkened with worry. “But what if he says no? What if he gets angry when he finds out we’re participating in the competition?”
Aranel’s lips curved into a knowing smile.
“Eva… you don’t know how to use yourself.”
Eva blinked. “Use myself… how?”
Aranel leaned closer, lowering her voice. “Emotional blackmail.”
Eva stiffened. “Aranel—”
“No ‘buts’,” Aranel cut in firmly. “If he refuses, pretend to be angry. Stop talking to him. Act hurt. He’ll give in.”
Eva stared at her for a moment, torn between guilt and desperation.
Then she sighed. “…Alright. Fine.”
--------------------------------------------------------
(Eva and Kyel’s House)
Dinner passed in an uneasy silence.
Kyel sat across from Eva, eating mechanically, his gaze never leaving her face. It was not casual, nor warm—it was heavy, searching. Eva felt it with every breath she took.
She shifted slightly in her chair, cleared her throat, and forced a smile.
“Honey… the dinner is very delicious.”
Kyel did not respond.
His eyes remained fixed on her, unblinking.
Eva’s fingers tightened around her spoon. “Honey… what’s wrong?” she asked softly. “Why are you staring at me like that?”
Kyel finally spoke, his voice low and controlled.
“Princess,” he said, “is there something you want to tell me?”
Eva froze.
For a moment, she said nothing. Then she inhaled slowly and set her spoon down, the faint clink echoing too loudly in the room.
“Kyel…” Her voice trembled. “There is something I need to tell you.”
His gaze did not soften. “I’m listening.”
“The royal family is organizing a hunting competition,” she continued quickly. “It’s open to everyone. Anyone can participate in pairs. So… Aranel and I submitted our names.”
She swallowed hard.
“It’s been ten days, but we haven’t learned much. I was thinking… maybe you could teach us how to use weapons.”
She looked at him—hopeful, nervous, waiting.
Kyel answered without hesitation.
“No.”
Eva blinked, then forced a nervous smile. “Oh… so you can’t teach us,” she said hurriedly. “It’s fine. We’ll manage on our own—”
“No.”
His voice cut through her words, sharp and unyielding.
“You are not participating in the competition,” Kyel said firmly. “Withdraw your name.”
Eva’s smile vanished. “But Kyel… I already promised Aranel. I can’t go back on my word.”
Kyel’s hand slammed against the table.
“I don’t care who you promised!” he snapped. “No means no. You are not going.”
His voice rose, anger finally breaking through.
“Do you even understand how dangerous that hunting competition is? What if you get hurt?”
Eva shook her head desperately. “No—honey, it’s not that dangerous. Aranel and I will be together. I won’t get hurt, I promise.”
She stepped closer, her voice pleading.
“Please… let me participate.”
“I said NO!” Kyel shouted.
Kyel’s shout thundered through the room.
Eva flinched violently, tears instantly filling her eyes.
Kyel froze, the anger draining from his face as he realized how loud he’d been. He exhaled sharply.
“I’m sorry,” he said, forcing his voice to lower. “I shouldn’t have shouted. But you don’t understand—I’m worried about you.”
Eva lowered her head, tears spilling onto the floor.
Kyel’s chest tightened at the sight. He reached out, his hand trembling as it moved toward hers.
Eva slapped his hand away. “Don’t touch me.”
She stood abruptly and ran toward the stairs.
“Eva—listen to me,” Kyel called, chasing after her.
He caught her and wrapped his arms around her from behind.
Eva turned violently and shoved him away.
“I said don’t touch me!” she cried. “Stay away from me!”
Each word struck him like a blade.
Tears streamed down her face as she shouted, “I’m going to participate whether you help me or not! I don’t need your help!”
She ran into her bedroom and slammed the door shut.
The sound echoed through the house.
Kyel stood frozen in the hallway, his chest rising and falling as he dragged a hand down his face in frustration.
“…Why won’t she listen to me?” he whispered, his voice breaking.
Eva leaned against the closed door, her shoulders trembling for a moment longer.
Then she slowly wiped her tears away with the back of her hand.
Her sobs faded.
A small smile tugged at her lips—soft, guilty, almost mischievous.
“…Sorry, Kyel,” she whispered to the empty room.
“But Aranel said this would work.”
She straightened herself, took a steady breath, and walked deeper into the room, her expression calm—already planning her next move.
--------------------------------------------------------
(Two hours later)
Kyel entered the bedroom after cleaning the dishes.
Eva lay on the bed with the sheet pulled over her head, her small form turned away from him.
Kyel paused at the doorway, watching her for a moment. His chest felt heavy. With a slow breath, he moved to his side of the bed and lay down carefully, as though afraid even the mattress shifting might disturb her.
He turned his head toward her.
She was still turned away, her back rigid, breathing steady—either asleep or pretending to be.
Kyel hesitated, then lifted his hand, reaching out to pull her closer.
Before his fingers could touch her, Eva shifted farther toward the edge of the bed.
His hand froze in midair.
A quiet sigh escaped him. He closed his eyes briefly, then moved closer instead, pressing himself behind her. This time, he wrapped an arm around her waist, firm and unyielding, pulling her back against his chest.
Eva stiffened beneath the sheets. She jabbed her elbow back at him, muffled by the blanket.
“Move,” she snapped. “I told you not to touch me.”
Kyel only tightened his hold, now wrapping both arms around her, anchoring her in place.
From beneath the sheet, her voice came out sharp and indignant.
“I said don’t tou—”
“You win.”
His voice was low, resigned, and tired.
Eva went still. “…What did you say?” she asked from under the covers.
Kyel rested his forehead lightly against her head.
“I said you can participate in the hunting competition,” he murmured.
“And I’ll help you. I’ll teach you. So stop being angry.”
He paused, then added quietly, almost stubbornly, “And turn around. Sleep facing me.”
For a heartbeat, there was only silence.
Then, beneath the sheet, Eva smiled. It was small. Triumphant. Softly wicked.
She pushed the blanket aside and turned toward him, her earlier anger vanishing as if it had never existed.
Curling against his chest, she wrapped her arms around him with deliberate sweetness.
“I love you, honey,” she said softly.
Kyel let out a quiet, defeated laugh, his arms closing around her instinctively. He pressed his chin against her hair, already knowing he had lost.
“…I love you too,” he murmured.
And as he held her there, Kyel realized one undeniable truth—
her emotional blackmail had worked
