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🎮 "Main Quest Activated: Survive Public Humiliation in the Royal Garden."
🕊 "Helpful tip: Don't throw wine. Again."
—Raven, probably.
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The royal garden was painfully bright. Roses bloomed like gossiping nobles—gorgeous and full of thorns.
And in the middle of it all stood Prince Caelum, looking every bit the main route heartthrob. Tall, cold, expression sharp enough to cut glass. He turned as I approached, silver hair catching the light like a weapon.
God, he was gorgeous.
Too bad he hated my guts.
"Lady Evelyne," he said. No warmth. Just disdain.
I curtsied with fake grace. "Your Highness."
His jaw tightened. "You've caused another scene. Publicly."
Oh right. Past Evelyne had thrown wine at the heroine at a party yesterday. I winced internally. The consequences were happening now.
Before I could answer, a dark flutter landed on my shoulder.
"Don't mess this up," Raven whispered into my ear.
I nearly jumped.
"You're perched on me!" I hissed under my breath.
"I'm your life-saving game tutorial, thank you. Now smile and don't say anything stupid."
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Prince Caelum narrows his eyes. The heroine—soft-spoken, beautiful, perfect—is watching from afar.
Evelyne forces a smirk.
Raven flaps his wings in slow motion behind her like a black aura of doom.
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"I apologize," I said, words tasting like thorns. "It won't happen again."
The prince's gaze darkened. "I've heard that before."
A glitch buzzed at the corner of my vision—faint but there.
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⚠️ Warning: Affection Level Still Hostile
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I rolled my eyes mentally. Great. Still enemy status.
Caelum stepped closer. Just one step. But it made the air colder.
"Let this be the last time, Evelyne," he said, voice low. "Next time, I won't protect you from exile."
Then he turned and walked away. No dramatic cape swish. Just silence.
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🎮 [New Choice Unlocked]
・・・・・
🧭 How should you handle the situation?
A: Cry and chase after him
B: Laugh it off and eat cake
C: Scream internally while plotting survival
Raven's Advice: "Please don't choose option A. I beg you."
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I went with C.
Obviously.
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Back inside the palace, I collapsed dramatically onto a couch and threw my shoes off like they had betrayed me.
"Am I supposed to win his heart? That man has all the warmth of a tax document."
Raven landed on the coffee table, tilting his head.
"You could try not being awful."
"I'm not awful! I'm sarcastic. It's called defense."
He snorted. "Sure. That sarcasm's really working on Prince Grump."
I threw a pillow at him. He dodged, of course.
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Somewhere hidden in the castle, magic shimmered faintly. A locked door pulsed once… waiting.
And far above, a strange wind rustled the feathers of a raven who was more than he seemed.
[To be continued…]