Chapter 10
“Your Highness, these are gifts from Lord Achilles.”
The maids entered the room, barely hiding their excited smiles as they carried in colorful flowers and beautifully wrapped boxes. Charlize blinked in confusion.
“But… it’s not a special day or anything…”
“Does it have to be a special day to send gifts? Isn’t that even more romantic?”
“Exactly! He’s so thoughtful!”
Having watched Charlize and Achilles dancing yesterday, the maids seemed to have fully shifted their favor toward the Archmage. Their opinion was almost unanimous now—Valter Bianchi was too cold and distant, while the Archmage seemed much more capable of making the princess happy.
Charlize’s face turned red from their enthusiastic praise.
Kind…? Is that what he is?
Even though Achilles spoke bluntly, he always shared his honest feelings. He paid attention to her emotions, asked her how she felt and why.
Valter…
Just thinking of him sent her mood plummeting again. Valter always hid his true feelings, forcing her to guess, to wonder. He never gave her clarity—only vague words that left her confused and alone in her hurt.
Valter is probably doing well with Rebecca now.
He was the male lead, and Rebecca was the heroine. It only made sense that the story would bring them together. There was no place in that tale for Charlize, the so-called villainess.
She had heard later, through rumors, that they hadn’t actually kissed that day—but what did that change? Valter was clearly close to Rebecca. And even knowing Charlize had misunderstood, he’d done nothing to correct her.
When someone’s feelings aren’t clear, watch their actions instead.
It was something she had once read in a book.
Charlize had known that, deep down. But she had refused to follow it. Because she had liked him—because she had loved Valter—she had ignored everything that contradicted the version of him she wanted to believe in.
Valter doesn’t love me.
And if he did, it was barely enough to matter. A weak, fleeting kind of affection—one that didn’t care if she was hurt or pushed away. A kind of love that could easily let her go.
She had been nothing more than a stone on the side of the road to him, something he could kick aside without thought. And Charlize finally realized she didn’t deserve to be treated like that. No one did. So why had she endured it?
I won’t cry over you anymore.
Whether or not she would fall for Achilles was still a separate question. But as for Valter—she knew it was time to let go. In truth, it was long overdue.
Valter had spent years sending her the same message—he didn’t want her.
He just wants to stay friends, she thought bitterly.
Even that felt generous. More likely, he wanted to keep her around for convenience—someone to use when needed. She tried not to think about that now. This wasn’t the time to dwell on someone who only ever hurt her.
“Smell this one, Your Highness—it’s amazing.”
One of the maids approached with a bouquet. The rich, sweet scent of the flowers filled the room, and to her surprise, Charlize felt her mood gently lift again.
“……”
What am I even doing?
Achilles stood frozen for a moment, reflecting on his own actions.
He had been wandering through the streets, unwilling to return to the detached palace the Emperor had arranged for him. Then, he’d passed a flower shop—and thought of her.
Of course he had.
He bought every flower in sight and sent them to the princess’s palace. Then he thought, What if she doesn’t like flowers? So he stepped into a jewelry store.
He didn’t know her clothing or shoe sizes, so those were out of the question. Instead, he picked out whatever seemed remotely suitable and had those gifts sent as well.
I was just… trying not to sneak into her palace again. That’s all.
By the time he realized what he’d done, he had already sent her all kinds of gifts. But money wasn’t an issue. Whenever he needed more, he simply raided a dragon’s hoard—or earned it through magical research. He had more than enough to live lavishly for the rest of his life without ever working again.
Still… I feel pathetic. Restless.
He felt like the only thing that would calm him down was seeing Charlize again. But he had no excuse. The Emperor planned to make the engagement official in two days.
Just two days—not even the wedding, just the announcement. He was supposed to enter the grand ballroom with Charlize that day—as her fiancé.
I’ll hold her in these arms and dance with her.
Just imagining it made something flutter near his chest. His heartbeat sped up, and his cheeks felt warm. Achilles smoothed out his expression and resumed walking, though the tension inside him only tightened.
He wanted to see her.
…What the—?
Someone collided with him on purpose.
Achilles dodged it with practiced ease, and the man lost his balance and crashed to the ground.
“You bastard!”
“He pushed me!”
The man, now on the floor, pointed at Achilles and shouted. It clicked immediately—he had been targeted on purpose.
Was it because I spent money at the jewelry shop?
These men are making far too much noise for a simple street robbery.
Their shouts, curses, and dramatics didn’t faze Achilles in the slightest. Instead, his thoughts lingered on the man’s hands—rough at first glance, but well-maintained—and the polished accent poorly masked by a peasant’s tone.
A knight, most likely. Maybe even a noble-born one.
It wouldn’t have been difficult for Achilles to escape the situation entirely. But it was obvious—these men would claim the Archmage had attacked them, regardless of the truth.
Who’s behind this?
He had no need to investigate personally. The Tower already belonged to him, and besides his loyal subordinates, there were always magicians eager to curry favor—men and women who would do anything to earn the Archmage’s attention.
“A-Aaaaugh!”
The man who had failed to knock Achilles down suddenly screamed and spun around, eyes wide, drenched in sweat.
“Hey, what’s wrong with you?”
“Get away! Don’t come near me, monster!”
He slapped away the hand of a companion trying to help him up. The others hesitated, glancing nervously at Achilles, clearly struggling to keep up the charade.
“Hey, calm down. It’s not—”
“STAY AWAY!”
The man suddenly drew a hidden dagger and slashed wildly. His companion yelped and jerked back, getting a shallow cut across his cheek.
Wait… did he actually get hit with a spell?
But no one had seen Achilles cast anything. There was no chant, no surge of mana. They turned to him in panic—but he was already gone.
Meanwhile, the frenzied man had turned on his own comrades, eyes wild.
“You failed?”
It wasn’t that they’d expected success—not when their target was the Archmage. All they’d needed was a stain, a smear on what looked like a perfect engagement between the Tower and the princess.
There was still time before the wedding. Engagements were fragile things. If this one broke, the idea of sweeping in to claim the damaged princess wouldn’t be a bad move—even the Imperial Court might accept it.
“No witnesses saw the Archmage use magic?”
“None. We had one man watching him closely the entire time. He reported no chanting, no release of mana.”
The man who had been watching was a high-ranking mage. And if even he hadn’t detected anything, then it meant the Archmage had used a kind of magic that couldn’t be perceived by even an expert.
A dangerous man indeed.
It was easy to frame someone—so long as you had a foundation of truth to build on. But a baseless rumor wouldn’t shake the Imperial Palace.
Achilles had left no evidence. The victim’s so-called breakdown hadn’t even lasted five minutes, and when examined by a priest, only the faintest magical residue was found.
“The priest said he wouldn’t be able to identify the caster even if the mage were brought back to him. Our own mage confirmed it. The traces are too faint to track.”
“……”
The man who went mad had described a vivid hallucination—falling into a cursed land, surrounded by flames and swarmed by monsters. He’d drawn his dagger in panic and fought back to survive.
Valter found it suspicious that no one had been seriously hurt. If someone truly believed his comrades were monsters, surely someone would have ended up with more than a scratch.
And yet, the worst injury came from a shallow cut on one man’s cheek—a wound that would vanish with a few drops of a common temple potion.
There’s still a way to pin this on the Archmage.
Achilles had used magic. That much was certain, even if there was almost no evidence left behind. Which meant—
What matters most is pulling Charlize’s heart away from him.
Now confined under house arrest, Valter had gone over the Crown Prince’s words again and again. Prince Oscar had shown more than just disdain—he had shown confidence. That was what truly shook Valter.
He began to suspect that Charlize’s feelings for him had faded more than he realized. Even if her marriage was arranged by the Emperor, she didn’t seem to be resisting it.
They had spoken just a few days ago… Then, she’d helped the Archmage with his dance practice… And now, he was showering her with gifts.
Just hearing the reports made Valter’s stomach churn. He could’ve done all that—he would’ve, if he thought it mattered.
Why didn’t I? Oh…
Because I resented her. I was jealous. I acted like a fool.
He had pushed her away so many times, and whenever she started to walk away, he’d pull her back—only to push her away again. But now, Valter realized he was at a crossroads.
How far am I willing to go to keep her beside me?
He had always quietly monitored the other young nobles who showed interest in Charlize. He’d told himself it was just possessiveness—just irritation at others coveting what was his.
But deep down… he’d known better.
“I feel sick.”
In the end, it was he who broke first. Charlize had already moved on, taken another man’s hand—and he still couldn’t stop wanting her.
Valter’s beautiful face twisted with envy and bitterness. He still resented her… and yet, he couldn’t bear to lose her to anyone else.
You were the first to accept my selfishness.
If she hadn’t wanted this, she should’ve never smiled at him. Never held his hand. Never called his name.
If she hadn’t done that, none of this would’ve started.
“Kill him. Make it look like the magic drove him insane, that he died from it. The man himself is useless—but his father is persistent. He’ll grab onto the Archmage and never let go.”
At Valter’s command, his subordinate gave a silent bow.
