“…Wow, the Betrothal Contest is definitely a festival.”
Ariel realized this for the first time, having spent her days wrapped in the quiet of the library.
She had been completely unaware that the Grand Ducal Betrothal Contest was the biggest festival in the Northern Regions.
Other than the white noise she created while reading, she had been blocking out all the chatter.
Everyone around her had been talking excitedly about the Betrothal Contest.
Now, as she opened her ears and widened her focus beyond her reading, she finally felt the undeniable heat of the event.
And,
“Wow, there are so many people!”
At this moment, she was immersed in that very heat.
This place was the northern plaza of the Grand Castle, where the carriages of the finalists arriving after the second evaluation were expected.
It was teeming with servants who were off duty or had taken a brief moment to join in the frenzy.
Everyone had gathered there to cheer on their chosen finalists, and Ariel found herself swept along with them.
How she managed to end up here, she had no idea.
It was almost as though she had lost track of her own memories for a moment.
She wondered what had driven her to come here in the first place.
Like leaves caught in a tidal wave, she had been carried by the current towards the northern plaza, but now she found herself unsure of what she was supposed to do here.
“Lord Deron’s golden hair shines brighter than a wheat field at harvest!”
“Hmph! And what of it? Lord Blund is clearly the most handsome!”
“Kyaa~! I can’t believe I get to see him up close! I’ve been counting down the days!”
“They say Lord Kyle’s dark eyes are so deep, that once you gaze into them, you can’t look away!”
Among the crowd, 90% were women, and naturally, the air buzzed with admiration and romantic notions.
For Ariel, who spent casual times with her maids, it was a familiar atmosphere.
After all, the maids also had their favorite candidates, much like everyone else.
What saddened her, however, was the absence of any mention of,
“Elden…”
She understood.
Her maids had also never uttered a word about Elden.
Unlike the other candidates, whose reputations sparkled impressively, Elden’s reputation had dropped so low it felt like it had punctured the earth itself.
Ariel had even heard various nicknames used to describe him—The Drunkard, The Wastrel, and The Barbarian.
She remembered how, during his introduction in class, her classmates had whispered about him.
“That’s him, the heir to a count’s family, the notorious drunkard from Raphelion.”
“No, he isn’t just a drunkard; he’s a complete waste of potential.”
“Not just a waste. He’s practically a barbarian.”
Back then, she had merely thought,
“Oh, I see.”
And shrugged it off.
She figured their paths would never cross, anyway.
So,
“Oh my, he really does look a bit scary.”
That thought passed, and she moved on.
As she had suspected, during her time at the academy, she hadn’t crossed paths with him at all.
Consequently, she graduated with no special ties to anyone, and Elden Raphelion became a name she had filed away in the back of her mind.
Not only Elden, but also most memories from her academy days had faded into a blur.
Had she not encountered Elden in the library, she might have easily dismissed any mention of him.
After all, it was expected he would be talked down upon.
The issue arose years later when they inadvertently crossed paths again, and she noticed how the current Elden bore no resemblance to the infamous character he once was.
Although they had only spent a few days together, she could see he was steering clear of drinking and fights—the activities that once defined him. Even the way he treated commoners with respect, allowing Rachel to sit at his table, was a striking contrast.
Moreover, he appeared to prefer reading and reflecting over indulging in carnal pleasures, planning for his future with care.
“They simply haven’t seen the new Elden.”
Of course, prior to their reunion, whenever the conversation swirled around his entrance into the final round, she would adopt an indifferent stance during discussions about the Duchess’ peculiar tastes.
“I don’t care about that.”
She thought it was far more beneficial to read an extra line of text than to concern herself with someone else’s potential husband.
It made more sense to invest her energy in reading than wasting time on meaningless gossip.
Yet now, observing those who ignored Elden, Ariel felt a twinge of annoyance.
Of course, she realized how absurd her feelings were.
After all, just because they had met again didn’t mean it was right for her to feel out of sorts on his behalf.
She was merely a reader with a shared passion for literature.
Nonetheless,
“I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know.”
Well,
Having come this far, she thought she might as well see Elden’s face before heading back.
By the way,
“If he had the highest score in the second evaluation, does that mean Lord Kyle is in the lead?”
Even without official announcements, opinions on the winner varied, but there hadn’t been a single hint about Elden’s victory.
Erenscia had said this once,
“If Elden puts his mind to it, he will surely win.”
That had stuck with Ariel.
She had heard the second evaluation was to test physical prowess, and given his historical strength, she considered it the right stage for Elden.
She had a good reason to believe this.
“Wasn’t Elden always at the top?”
[Physical Education]
In a subject dedicated to testing physical ability, Elden had always maintained an overwhelming score above all others.
With reflexes, strength, and endurance all significantly superior to his ‘classmates’, the other candidates had no chance against him.
That’s why she felt conflicted about the rumors.
“Could it be he didn’t win?”
Though Kyle’s triumph was frequently discussed, whispers of Deron or Blund winning also popped up, leaving her unsure about Elden’s chances.
Perhaps it was this burning curiosity compelling her to investigate further.
In that moment, the throng erupted with excitement.
A carriage had entered through the northern gate of the castle.
The carriage would stop at the plaza where the statue of the founder of the Winterfell Grand Ducal Family, the first Winter King, Roktad, was erected.
Ariel, swept up by the rapidly gathering crowd surrounding her, had to move toward the plaza as well.
“Ugh.”
Accompanied by an exasperated gasp.
“Who could it be?! Is it Lord Deron?”
“Probably not. It must be Lord Kyle! After all, the victor is always at the forefront!”
“Don’t be ridiculous~ Can’t you see that noble profile shining through the curtain? It can only be Lord Blund~!”
The crowd inside the carriage was giddy with speculation about the candidate.
Caught among them, Ariel found herself wishing whoever it was would just come out quickly.
It felt as though she’d turn into a tortilla dough at this rate.
Click.
The coachman grasped the door handle of the carriage.
All eyes were on the moment.
Soon, the door swung open and an awkward silence enveloped the arena.
It was a prince with jet-black hair, crimson eyes, and a nonchalant face, munching on some fruit.
And then,
“Elden—!”
In that sudden silence, a woman’s lonely shout echoed.
“Ah, the medieval times are all well and good, but….”
Traveling is such a hassle.
The ride itself wasn’t too unbearable, given the luxurious cushions provided, as long as they didn’t shake too much. However, traveling with just three horsepower felt like an endless trek, and boredom reigned supreme.
Still, I suppose I’ll have to adapt.
Compared to the grand culinary adventure, this is merely a trifle.
Creak.
Just before I could make a cheeky(?) suggestion to Rachel, the carriage came to a halt in the northern plaza of the Grand Ducal Castle.
The atmosphere was bustling, but the curtains obscured my view outside.
“We have arrived, my Lord.”
“Good job.”
After a moment, I peeked outside when the coachman opened the door, finally understanding what the commotion was about.
The plaza was filled with numerous women crowded together.
“Are they… fans?”
Clearly, no one in their right mind would be there to cheer for a wastrel like me.
They must be here for the trio of regretful nobles. After all, they all had the stunning looks typical for a romance fantasy lead.
Just as I was about to step out of the carriage,
“Elden—!”
I heard someone call my name.
Oh wow—I’ve got a female fan after all!
Looking around, I quickly spotted the source squeezed between the masses.
A slender woman with golden hair styled in a bun—Ariel.
Shouldn’t she be in the library right now? What was she doing here?
Caught in the throng with several palace servants, nonetheless!
I waved awkwardly back at her, and she began to push her way through the crowd.
“Just hold on a moment.”
Rachel stepped out of the carriage and waited by my side as I faced Ariel.
Meanwhile, the other carriages began to arrive, drawing attention away from me.
As expected, no one was specifically waiting for me.
Except, of course, for our golden-haired lady.
“So, what brings you here?”
“Ah—how was the evaluation? Did you win?”
…So this little bookworm took time out of her reading to check on me?
A mischievous smile crept onto my face as I considered playing a prank on her.
“Thanks to your fervent support, I won.”
I anticipated her cheerful response,
Her bright face from earlier in the morning still vivid in my mind.
If she celebrated, I’d tease her, saying I actually lost.
Just a minor act of revenge(?) as a counter to the ‘curse’ her earlier exuberance had inspired.
But oddly enough, Ariel’s expression twisted into something bizarre.
Her lips, which should have been smiling brightly, now formed a thin line, and her eyes, which should have sparkled with joy, were trembling.
What a strange reaction.
“…?”
“Y-You really won…?”
Her response completely interrupted my prank plan.
“Sorry, it was just a joke. I actually lost; Kyle is the winner.”
“What?”
With that, a flicker of joy returned to her face.
Her awkwardly parted lips transformed into a graceful smile, and the trembling in her eyes transformed into glimmers of delight.
That was an entirely different reaction from what I expected.
Today, Ariel was as unpredictable as ever.
Suddenly, she asked with a hint of worry,
“…So you lost? Seriously?”
“I didn’t even want to participate in the first place.”
My candid response seemed to astonish her.
“!”
Now I was the one feeling baffled.
“?”
Then Ariel began to fidget with her fingers as she asked,
“So…Um…Will you be coming to the library tomorrow…?”
There was no reason for me to disrupt my routine.
No upheaval would ever shake a tree with deep roots; after discovering a tranquil corner, I was set to continue my reading and training as usual.
After all, that was the life Lee Jun-Woo dreamt of.
I nodded in response.
“Of course.”
Ariel’s bright smile lit up, radiating warmth that could melt the iciest glaciers.
“Yes! S-So…I’ll see you tomorrow! Bye~!”
……Hmm.
Well,
Sure.
I’ll see you tomorrow then.
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