Chapter 12

Charlize’s eyes trembled with uncertainty. She didn’t fully understand what he meant.

Achilles stepped closer and gently took her hand. As he lifted it, her gaze followed instinctively, drawn up toward him.

“I’m already in the palm of your hand.”

For the first time, his golden eyes seemed… unsteady. They wavered. When Charlize realized it, her eyes widened.

Then, Achilles slowly lowered her hand to his face, pressing his cheek into her palm. His voice, quiet and warm, carried an unfamiliar heat. Normally so flat, his tone now echoed with something deeper—intimate.

“I like you, Princess.”

Thump.

Her heart dropped, heavy and full, and her chest fluttered with nervous energy. It was overwhelming, but strangely… it felt good. Her heart pounded, her cheeks burned, and yet she didn’t want to look away from him.

He’s not asking for an answer.

Charlize had never confessed her feelings to Valter, but the entire social circle knew she had loved him. Oscar had once raged about whether the Bianchi family had maliciously spread the rumors themselves.

She didn’t believe Valter had done that. More likely, it was his father—or the duchess.

Which meant Achilles probably knew, too—that her heart hadn’t been empty when they met.

She knew how painful one-sided love could be. She had tried to stay away from Valter, thinking she made him uncomfortable. But whenever she tried to pull away, he’d stop her. Even the smallest act of his could shake her deeply.

That love had dragged her down for years.

She began to wonder how she must have looked in Achilles’ eyes. From the very first day, she had sat beside him—not because of any special intent, but…

Why… why did I kiss him? I could’ve just walked away.

But then she saw it—those golden eyes, usually so sharp, now filled with vulnerability. And her heart wavered again.

“I won’t lie to you,” she said softly. “So please… don’t keep shaking me like this. I…”

“You will marry me, Princess.”

His hand was still wrapped around hers.

Achilles lifted her palm and pressed a kiss to it—slow, deliberate. Then he looked up, meeting her gaze with intensity.

“So it’s okay if you waver. I’ll be the one to come to you. I’ll hold on tightly. You don’t have to be afraid of anything.”

Her defenses wavered. She looked away, heart racing, and instinctively tried to pull her hand back—but instead, he pulled her into his arms.

Surprised, she looked up.

“I like you, Princess,” Achilles whispered again.

And this time, too—Charlize didn’t push him away.

Guards had been stationed around the Bianchi estate. Even if they claimed they were voluntarily observing Valter’s house arrest, Crown Prince Oscar clearly didn’t trust them to do it properly.

“What were you thinking—going to the palace and causing a scene in front of the Crown Prince? If you were any other noble, you’d already be rotting in the imperial dungeons!”

Even with the Duke of Bianchi shouting at him, Valter didn’t flinch. The duke sighed, frustrated at how distracted his son looked.

He already knew Valter had feelings for the princess. So did his wife. That was why they had never interfered—Charlize had clearly favored their son.

What they hadn’t expected was the Emperor inserting the Archmage into the equation.

Until recently, the man hadn’t even been near the princess.

“So, what now? You’re not actually thinking of giving up, are you?”

The duke had dreamed of seeing Charlize become his daughter-in-law, of raising House Bianchi to Grand Ducal status. The Emperor might not have liked the idea, but with the princess clearly favoring Valter, it had seemed possible.

The imperial couple adored their daughter. If not for this sudden marriage arrangement with some unknown Tower Master, he would’ve still believed it was within reach.

“The Archmage says his name is Illien, but it’s probably a lie. Ten years ago, anyone using that name—beggars, orphans—ended up dead. He’s likely one of them.”

Illien.

It was the surname of a royal bloodline that had supposedly gone extinct over a hundred years ago, wiped out during the war with the demons.

Ever since, nameless vagrants had quietly borrowed the name, claiming to be survivors of the fallen royal family.

If they were real, demons would eventually hunt them down. If they were fake, nobles or royals would see them as insolent and execute them. These days, no one dared to use that name.

Except for one person—the Archmage.

Rumors had long circulated about him: that he was a commoner, an illegitimate child, a nameless orphan who had clawed his way to the top of the Tower. But in the end, they were all just rumors.

No one truly knew his past.

“Valter. You must oppose the marriage on the grounds that no one knows where that man comes from. He’s too cautious and calculating—if we carelessly try to approach him, we could end up in trouble ourselves.”

“…Do you have something in mind, Father?”

Valter had already been thinking along the same lines. The moment he heard that the Tower Master and the Imperial Princess were set to be married, he gave orders to look into the Tower Master’s background.

“I’ve already sent men to track him down. He’s human—he can’t completely erase his past. Sooner or later, the truth will come out!”

Will it, though?

The Tower Master might be clever, but the Emperor—the one who arranged this marriage—wasn’t someone who would allow the Imperial Family to be humiliated.

‘There’s a good chance the Emperor already investigated him thoroughly.’

Because of that, Valter wasn’t expecting to find anything useful in the Tower Master’s past. What mattered wasn’t what had happened—it was the fact that no one knew who he truly was.

If he’d erased his own history, then it might as well not exist. And that alone was as good as proof that his bloodline was low-born.

“The wedding date is close, but there should still be a way. Valter, stay quiet for now. When the time is right, meet the princess and try to persuade her. I’ll handle your house arrest.”

Valter nodded silently and left the duke’s office.

*

“I forgot to thank him for the gift.”

Charlize sighed as she brushed her hair before bed. She had sent him flowers and a small gift through her maid earlier that afternoon, but since they had met in the garden, it would’ve been better to say it to him directly.

“He’s openly saying he likes me now.”

At first, she thought he was lying. No one could say something like that, with such a calm face, and actually mean it. Not even someone like the Tower Master—at least, that’s what she believed.

But the more they met, the more she saw a change in Achilles. He was growing warmer… and sometimes, he seemed almost desperate to be near her.

She hadn’t meant for things to turn out like this, but every time they saw each other, they ended up kissing.

“Even if we’re engaged… this is a bit much, isn’t it?”

Knock knock.

It wasn’t the door. The sound came from the window that led to the balcony. Her maid had already helped her get ready for bed and closed the curtains, so even when Charlize turned to look, she couldn’t see anything outside. The only light in the room came from the lamp beside her bed.

She flinched and looked toward the window.

“Who’s there?”

“It’s me, Princess.”

Achilles?

She instinctively stood, then hesitated—she was in her nightgown. Flustered, she quickly threw on a robe and fastened it tightly before walking over to the balcony window. She pulled back the curtain and saw his silver-gray hair, tinted with the soft glow of the moon.

“You can’t come at this hour. And climbing in through the balcony—really?”

“Will you not open the window for me?”

The window was secured with a single latch. Charlize glanced at it, but she didn’t move to unlock it, even though Achilles waited.

‘He always sweeps me off my feet…’

They kissed every time they met. And now he had come to her at night—what if it went even further than that? That was something she wasn’t ready for. She needed to draw the line.

“Come back tomorrow. During the day.”

“Someone has broken into your quarters.”

Charlize froze. But she didn’t have time to ask anything. Achilles glanced upward, as if sensing something, and moved his fingers.

The latch lifted on its own, and the window swung open. In one quick motion, he slipped inside and pulled her into his arms. The window shut behind him, and the lamp beside the bed went out with a soft whoosh.

“The Tower Mas—!”

“Shh.”

Holding her with one arm like it was nothing, Achilles moved to a dark corner of the room and cast a spell. Their figures vanished into the shadows, leaving the room in complete darkness.

‘An intruder? Is this real?’

Charlize looked up at him, but Achilles was focused, his eyes scanning the room. Though he had locked the window and put out the light, he had left the curtains open.

Moonlight poured through the tall window, casting a soft glow on the floor. Then, in that light, a shadow moved.

Charlize held her breath. Seeing the fear in her eyes, Achilles looked down at her briefly.

“It’s alright.”

Was it really okay to speak?

“I cast a spell to block sound. No one can hear us right now.”