Chapter 7

“I—Why me?! I don’t want to!”

Charlize had answered in a panic, but in the end, she followed the lady-in-waiting to the guest wing, where Achilles was supposedly learning court etiquette.

‘I’m not even emotionally ready for this!’

It had only been two days since that kiss. Even thinking about it now made her cheeks burn. Charlize glanced at the attendant beside her, who picked up on her thoughts with just a glance.

“Your Highness, you look absolutely radiant today. Your cheeks have the perfect peachy glow—flawless.”

“….”

Yep. I’m blushing again. Great.

Standing in front of the door to the guest room where Achilles was practicing, Charlize suddenly wanted to turn around and run. Just as she gathered her breath and prepared to signal the attendant—

The door swung open with a loud thud.

This was the second time it had happened.

“….”

Her startled eyes met his.

Achilles stood there, looking down at her, his gaze sharp and striking like a cut gemstone. Even after just two days, those piercing golden eyes still held the same intensity.

The attendants exchanged meaningful looks behind her, silently mouthing “Oh my…”

Charlize quickly looked away, her face growing hotter.

“M-Master of the Tower…”

“I’ve missed you, Princess.”

His voice still lacked emotion—toneless, as always—but somehow, it echoed deeply in her chest.

Achilles stepped forward and reached out for her. It was such a natural gesture that no one dared to point out how improper it was under royal etiquette.

Only the etiquette instructor, watching from behind, let out a long, pained sigh and rubbed his temple.

Charlize didn’t even realize it until she’d already taken his hand.

She had just broken protocol. And followed him right into the room.

‘It’s fine. Just for today. If he embarrasses himself at the ball, I’ll be humiliated too…’

She glanced at his absurdly handsome face and thought to herself—spending one day seeing him up close couldn’t possibly hurt.

Writing a letter didn’t sit well with Valter Bianchi.

Letters could be kept. Letters lasted. And women rarely ever burned letters.

Knowing Charlize’s feelings for him, she would probably keep his letter forever. So Valter didn’t want to write to her. He didn’t want to leave behind a written record of an apology for that night.

Instead, he chose something he disliked slightly less—showing up in person.

He sent a message early in the morning, requesting a visit to the Princess’s residence, then made his way there around late morning.

Normally, Charlize would greet him right away.

He understood it was a privilege, but he’d never treated it like one. Since childhood, their relationship had always worked like this. And he rarely showed up unannounced, which made those rare visits even more meaningful.

Usually, Charlize was happy to see him. That was the usual.

‘Why hasn’t she sent word back?’

Valter sat in a waiting room reserved for high-ranking guests of the royal family. His face grew stiff with tension. The morning had turned into afternoon, and still—no response.

Even his initial message hadn’t been acknowledged. Technically, he had no right to be angry—he hadn’t received permission to come.

‘But this is how we’ve always met!’

Frustration boiled inside him. He knew Charlize had been informed of the engagement to the Tower Master, but he was certain she wasn’t willing. Feelings don’t just disappear like that—not when they were real.

The last time he’d seen her, she had still clearly liked him.

Valter was sure of it.

He had believed she was close to breaking—that soon, she would either surrender to her emotions or confess them directly.

In his mind, their relationship was heading toward one of two conclusions: a permanent goodbye or a love confession.

That was how he calculated it.

But now, he was facing the humiliating reality of sitting in a waiting room for hours, not even allowed to see her.

‘Maybe… the Crown Prince or the Emperor is keeping her from seeing me.’

He tried to stay calm as he considered it. And in truth, he wasn’t wrong. The Emperor had issued a quiet order: any message or request from the Bianchi family was not to be delivered to the Princess.

“I won’t wait any longer.”

Valter stood with a cold expression, brushing off the creases in his coat. Then he stepped out into the corridor.

“Lord Bianchi? Where are you going?”

A servant who had been waiting outside quietly followed him. The attendant from the House of Bianchi, who was originally assigned to stay by his side, was likely still waiting in the servants’ quarters.

Valter wanted nothing more than to head straight to Charlize’s palace. But even if they were childhood friends, it was simply out of the question. Not only would it spark a major scandal, but it would also disgrace the name of House Bianchi.

So, Valter changed course.

“…I wish to see His Highness, the Crown Prince.”

“His Highness is extremely busy at the mo— Lord Valter!”

Before the royal attendant could finish, Valter was already moving. He knew it was rude, but he couldn’t hold himself back any longer.

At first, Achilles just watched the male and female dancers demonstrating the steps, his face expressionless. But within moments, he picked up the moves flawlessly—so much so that even Charlize, now his partner, couldn’t help but be amazed.

“How is he this good?”

If he’d at least looked at the instructors like he was paying attention, she could’ve chalked it up to focus. But no—his gaze remained indifferent the entire time.

The only time his golden eyes showed even a flicker of intensity was when he was partnered with Charlize. There was something strange, almost magnetic, in the way he watched her. Everyone in the room went silent, captivated, as the two danced.

Charlize was the one who kept making small mistakes. She couldn’t bring herself to meet Achilles’ gaze. And every time her steps faltered, the onlookers silently agreed—Well, who could blame her?

It wasn’t easy to dance like nothing was wrong in the arms of a man who stared at you like that.

Even when she accidentally stepped on his foot, Achilles didn’t flinch or even pretend to be hurt. It was Charlize who jumped in surprise every time.

“Why do I keep messing up? This never happens… Even when I danced with Valter, it wasn’t like this…”

Frustrated and flustered, Charlize’s expression grew dim. Sensing her mood, Achilles suddenly stopped dancing. She looked up at him in surprise.

“Master of the Tower?”

“Your Highness… Am I making you uncomfortable?”

“Ah, that’s not it…”

Achilles leaned in slightly and looked at her closely as he began to speak. For some reason, Charlize had a very bad feeling about what he was about to say. She tensed up.

“That kiss from last time—”

“Eek!”

Charlize, already on edge, quickly clapped a hand over his mouth. Without another word, she grabbed his wrist and dragged him into the room next door.

Before closing the door, she turned back and shouted to the others,

“Break! We’re taking a short break!”

Bang!

The door slammed shut, and the room fell into silence. Those left behind exchanged confused glances, as if to say, what just happened with Her Highness? No one knew. All they could do was guess.

Achilles, who had followed her without resistance, simply watched Charlize as she shut the door. From her reaction, he figured she wanted to keep their kiss a secret.

Why?

Does she still have feelings for Lord Bianchi?

It wasn’t a pleasant thought, but it seemed plausible. Charlize, her cheeks burning bright red, turned to him and said sharply,

“Don’t say things like that in front of people!”

“Things like what? The kiss?”

Fwoosh—

Her face flushed even redder. Achilles quickly realized he needed to update his assumptions. And this time, it was a change he rather liked.

“Your Highness. May I touch your face?”

Already close, he leaned in even further as he asked. Charlize’s eyes widened in shock. She instinctively took a step back.

“Wh-Why?”

Because you’re so cute when you blush.

“I just want to.”

“N-No. You can’t.”

“Why not?”

Why not?! Isn’t it obvious? Charlize looked at him with flustered eyes, and his golden gaze sparkled faintly.

“Do you dislike it when I touch you?”

“I… I…”

She didn’t hate it. In fact, just hearing him say that made her heart feel like it was going to burst. Looking away from his intense gaze, she mumbled,

“We’re not even married yet… That kind of contact isn’t proper.”

“How is it any different from holding hands? We do that when dancing or greeting one another.”

“It’s different! Holding hands is formal—touching someone’s face is…”

“Then what about a kiss?”

His face stayed blank, but his golden eyes seemed to glow. Charlize, before she knew it, was staring into them again.

“People who intend to marry kiss, don’t they? Compared to that, touching a cheek is hardly inappropriate. And… we already kissed.”

He stepped closer. Staring directly into her wide, trembling eyes, Achilles said in a quiet, even voice,

“So please, let me touch your cheek, Your Highness. I want to feel you.”

That steady, near-emotionless tone had never felt so intense before. Charlize, mind spinning, quickly shook her head.

“Wh-Why?”

The same question slipped out again before she realized it. Achilles blinked slowly, and for a moment, his pupils widened.

It was like a lightbulb had gone off in his head.

“I think… it’s because I like you, Your Highness.”