The Villainous Noble Lady, who looks like a Young Girl, is in the Arms of the Fearsomely Cute Crown Prince - Chapter 9

Sitting on my bed in my chambers within the detached palace, I gazed down at my bandaged ankle and let out a deep sigh.

“Does it still hurt?”

The one showing concern was Maggot, the maid assigned to my room.

“No, it’s fine now.”

In truth, the pain had mostly subsided. I was simply being cautious.

“If it’s not your injury that’s troubling you, then is it about Prince Etgar?”

“That’s part of it… but more than that, I feel like I put too much pressure on His Highness.”

Overturning a decree from the Emperor was nearly impossible, even for the Crown Prince’s fiancée—just a mere princess from another kingdom.

So I chose a different approach, one that would appeal to emotions.

I had pleaded, “I’m bored and lonely. Why not reconcile and let Prince Etgar be my conversation partner?”

The Emperor had little choice but to agree. However, he set a condition: if, after observing him, it was clear that Prince Etgar showed no signs of change, he would still be sent to the North.

Prince Folkharte, though he respected my wishes, had looked on the verge of summoning a blizzard when I first brought it up.

Perhaps allowing the Second Prince to interact with me was a bad idea.

In the end, he only agreed on the condition that every interaction between Prince Etgar and me be conducted under his strict supervision—where, when, and how would all be determined by him.

“Don’t worry about it. He’s just jealous.”

After Maggot left the room to do the laundry, Enzo grinned and threw out a term I didn’t recognize.

“Jealous?”

“Oh, right. Uh… never mind.”

“En? Now I really want to know!”

Usually, Enzo would explain things properly, but this time, he was avoiding it. I frowned, puzzled.

“You’re lucky, you know?”

“Lucky?”

“Lady Ria, you’re able to spend your days peacefully now. And it’s all thanks to His Highness, the Ice Prince.”

“Peaceful… Now that you mention it, he really isn’t as cold-hearted as people say.”

In fact, I felt like he genuinely cared for me.

Keeping his promise from the tea party showed just how honorable he was. He must be a very sincere person.

“Yeah, but here’s the thing—he’s only like that with you. Hah, you should see him during his official duties. That man is downright terrifying.”

“Really? Now I want to see how he works!”

Enzo’s grin widened until he looked almost mischievous.

“What is it?”

“This is a prime opportunity to build up the ‘devoted lover’ route! Gotta set up the flags and make sure we hit all the right triggers for affection points… So much to do, I’m thrilled!”

“…Can you say that in a way I understand?”

“I just think this time, I’ll actually get to see you be happy.”

For the first time in my life, I felt warmth rush to my cheeks.

“Whoa, that’s adorable!”

“D-Don’t tease me!”

I grabbed a pillow and threw it at him with all my strength—only for him to dodge effortlessly.

“Well, since we’re visiting the office, we need to dress you up! I’ll go pick out a dress!”

With an exaggerated bounce in his step, Enzo retrieved the pillow, placed it back neatly, and then dashed out of the room with excitement.

“Happiness… Is that something I can have?”

Alone in the now-quiet room, I whispered the words to myself.

But I still wasn’t convinced.

◆

The first meeting between Prince Etgar and me was set to take place in Prince Folkharte’s office.

At the center of the room was a large mahogany desk with intricate carvings. Behind it, a high-backed chair sat against a window framed by ornately carved wood, its deep blue curtains currently drawn open to let in natural light. The bright blue sky stretched beyond the glass, casting warmth into the space.

Beneath the desk, a finely woven rug displayed the imperial crest—a galloping warhorse, symbolizing strength and vigilance. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves lined the walls, and even the fireplace was made of mahogany, lending a sense of unity and elegance to the space.

In the center of the room, beneath the grand chandelier, stood the two people in question.

Prince Etgar and I faced each other across the low table of the sitting area.

Prince Folkharte remained seated at his desk, while his attendant, Mihel, stood behind him.

Enzo stood just behind me, his presence as steady as ever.

“Prince Etgar, I wish you a pleasant day.”

“…Hmph.”

His response was nothing more than a slight movement of his chin.

Prince Folkharte, watching from his desk, immediately reprimanded him.

“What kind of greeting was that?”

“…!”

“Do you not understand that such informality is only permitted when addressing His Majesty? As a prince of the empire, you should at least know basic etiquette. Ria’s curtsy was impeccable.”

Prince Folkharte’s sharp reprimand sent a chill through the room.

Prince Etgar clenched his lower lip, standing his ground despite the criticism. He was visibly holding back his frustration, and I couldn’t help but soften my gaze.

(He still doesn’t accept this?)

I decided to step in.

He may be a prince, but he was still just a seven-year-old child. It was natural for him to be stubborn.

“Your Highness, may I see an example?”

“If it’s for you, Ria.”

Prince Folkharte rose gracefully, his movements precise and effortless.

Today, he wore a navy waistcoat with minimal embellishment, a crisp white shirt with a neatly tied cravat, navy breeches, and polished black boots. His tall, well-proportioned frame only enhanced his refined appearance.

He stepped out from behind his desk, and I walked up to meet him, stopping directly in front of him while maintaining eye contact.

“Etgar, watch carefully.”

Prince Folkharte pulled his right foot back, placed his right hand at his side, and extended his left arm outward in a smooth, practiced bow and scrape.

In response, I performed a curtsy and naturally extended my right hand toward him.

“I wish you a pleasant day, Your Highness.”

Keeping his gaze locked onto mine, he gently took my small hand, bent slightly at the knee, and made a motion as if to kiss the back of it.

The respectful exchange filled me with a sense of joy.

This was what it meant to honor rank and status—to show mutual respect.

Watching us, Prince Etgar suddenly burst out in frustration.

“I don’t know how to do that! I’m not the Crown Prince!”

“You’re still making excuses?”

“Please wait, Your Highness.”

We couldn’t push him too hard.

I knew what it was like to feel cornered with no escape.

Fortunately, I had developed the determination to fight back—to learn and improve.

But those who lacked that resolve often used their status as a shield, avoiding responsibility and instead lashing out at those weaker than themselves—just like that marquis’s daughter.

“Prince Etgar, when I learned that I was to be engaged to His Highness Folkharte, I worked hard to prepare myself.”

Prince Folkharte’s sharp gaze softened slightly.

Meanwhile, Etgar’s large aquamarine eyes, filled with uncertainty, flickered downward, as if searching for an escape.

Yet they still held a certain clarity.

I wanted to believe that clarity could be preserved.

“With effort, you’ll be able to do it too. Let’s practice together.”

“…”

“It’s just practice. It’s okay if you don’t get it right.”

“It’s… okay if I don’t get it right?”

Finally, he met my gaze.

“Yes. No one gets it right the first time.”

“Were you like that too, Lady Riane?”

“Of course. And please, Your Highness, call me Ria.”

His eyes widened in surprise.

“I can call you that?”

“Yes.”

“Then… Ria.”

“Yes?”

“Call me Gar.”

“Prince Gar.”

A small smile spread across his face.

Then, mimicking what he had just seen, Prince Etgar attempted the bow and scrape.

“That was very impressive for your first time!”

As soon as I praised him, he eagerly grabbed my right hand and—smooch!—placed an actual kiss on the back of it.

I mentally noted that I needed to teach him that only spouses or fiancées received an actual kiss—everyone else simply pretended.

Behind me, I had the distinct feeling that Enzo was shaking with barely contained laughter.

“Ria! I’ll do my best!”

…Yes.

Meanwhile, behind Prince Etgar, an ominous snowstorm had begun to swirl.

Let’s do our best, indeed.