* * *
Ranshel found it nearly impossible to focus on their conversation.
For some reason, Frey didn’t seem inclined to remove her hand from his leg.
Was she blessing him, even though she wasn’t officially a saint yet?
Whatever it was, he wished she’d finish quickly.
He was so tense—afraid he might move his lower body by accident—that he didn’t even have time to glance at Zavad’s face.
If Zavad had fallen in love even for a moment, Ranshel was confident he’d notice.
He’d seen it happen countless times in the game.
He knew exactly what Zavad looked like when he fell in love.
But would Zavad really fall in love here?
Just as the game system intended?
The answer came swiftly.
“Your ladyship’s kind heart is truly admirable.”
Zavad slid his hand under Frey’s and gently lifted it from Ranshel’s leg, bringing it toward himself.
Ranshel barely managed not to flinch at the sensation pressing against his thigh.
Zavad took Frey’s hand in his, then knelt on one knee in front of the wheelchair.
“Surely, milady, you are no different from a divine spirit sent by the heavens.”
Ranshel rubbed his now-empty leg with his palm.
His hand was clammy with sweat.
He couldn’t tell what he was feeling—whether it was nervousness or confusion.
All of his senses were focused on what was happening before his eyes.
Zavad Pommel—proud, sensitive, the very embodiment of noble arrogance—had lowered himself before a girl.
A young master who normally asserted his superiority even while greeting others… was now bowing his head.
His lips seemed to brush the back of her hand.
Ranshel’s heart dropped.
There was no doubt.
This was their “First Meeting CG.” There was no need for moonlight or a quiet terrace.
What mattered was that their hearts had connected.
Watching them… made him feel strange.
Maybe it was worry about the quest.
What if Zavad really did fall in love here and the story unraveled?
What if he gave up on revenge…?
But in this moment, there was nothing Ranshel could do.
He clenched his fists as he watched them gaze affectionately into each other’s eyes.
His fingertips stung, like a wound reopening.
His chest ached strangely too.
As if the poison was seeping through his resistance and spreading inside him…
“Then I’ll bring the item and come see you in person.”
“Thank you for your thoughtfulness.”
Clack.
The maid once again pushed the wheelchair, taking Frey with her out of the dining hall.
Ranshel couldn’t take his eyes off them until their figures had completely disappeared beyond the door.
“Ranshel.”
“……”
“Hey, Ranshel.”
“…Ah, yes? Did you call me?”
Ranshel, who had been spacing out, finally responded.
Before he realized it, Zavad had approached closely, frowning at him.
The face that had been smiling at Frey just moments ago was now nowhere to be found.
Now that he thought about it, he’d gotten so used to seeing Zavad’s sullen and annoyed expression that he’d forgotten—
In the game, Zavad always treated Frey with gentleness.
Even when he was angry, he never yelled or lost his temper at her the way he did with Ranshel.
Sure, it could be attributed to the difference in their social status or age.
But by now, it was clear that wasn’t the only reason.
…Still, isn’t this a bit too fast to fall in love?
Even late autumn leaves take longer to fall than that.
‘He’s supposed to be a romance target, but come on, this is way too easy. Where’s the thrill of the chase?’
Ranshel, briefly annoyed, let out a long sigh. It was a sigh of resignation.
There was nothing he could do.
This was a romance game after all, and Frey… was just too beautiful.
‘I didn’t think much of it when Eunhye mentioned it.’
— “Oppa, look at this. Aren’t they both so pretty?”
The Flower of the Ice Castle event CG was one of Eunhye’s favorite illustrations—a scene from the original where Frey glows under the moonlight, standing beside Zavad, who’s shrouded in shadow.
Back then, he hadn’t cared much about the damn game itself.
He only enjoyed watching Eunhye enjoy it.
— Uh, yeah. They’re pretty. You’re right.
— That doesn’t sound sincere. You’re just agreeing with me, huh?
— No, really. The drawing’s… like, sparkly. With all the colors and stuff…
— What are you even saying?!
The memory of her laughing face suddenly made his heart thump strangely.
He wished now he had paid more attention back then.
Even just a bit more time together, for a bit longer…
“……”
Ranshel closed his eyes tightly, then opened them again.
This wasn’t the time to dwell in the past. He had to focus on reality.
Now that the heroine had appeared, the game would probably progress faster.
He had doubted that love at first sight was possible, but…
With a face like that, it actually made sense.
Meeting Frey in person, it wasn’t strange that Zavad would fall for her immediately.
She had the kind of beauty that made her shine no matter who she stood beside.
Of course, Zavad’s appearance here was basically a cheat code in itself, so he was an exception.
Even now, look at him—
Glaring at Ranshel like a wildcat, yet still absurdly beautiful.
“You look like you’re about to die from joy.”
“…Excuse me?”
“You couldn’t take your eyes off her. She your type or something?”
“……What?”
Ranshel felt a sudden pang of guilt.
It wasn’t like Frey was his type or anything.
Honestly, he didn’t even know what his type was.
He’d been too busy surviving to ever think of someone as a romantic interest.
It was just… objectively speaking, Zavad had a face that drew people in.
It wasn’t a mystery why he monopolized the popularity rankings in the game.
Wasn’t it only natural that Ranshel kept getting caught staring?
Zavad, watching Ranshel’s reaction, twisted his lips.
“Still, don’t you think you’re being a bit shameless? Don’t you realize you’re too lowly to be coveting a count’s daughter?”
“…Uh…”
“A mere commoner, blushing at a noble… You should be ashamed.”
It finally dawned on Ranshel what Zavad was saying.
He was scolding him—for looking at Frey too long.
‘He’s already guarding her…?’
For a moment, something hot surged up inside him.
Even if you’re lovestruck, seriously?
He’d literally taken poison in Zavad’s place, and now he was being treated like a nuisance?
“…Liking someone is my own business, isn’t it?”
“What?”
“It’s not any different from how Lord Petro admires the Lady. Frey is beautiful and kind… There’s no reason not to like her, right?”
“Hah, you even picked up her name in all that chaos. Overflowing with interest, huh?”
“Of course? Her golden hair flowing down to her waist, and eyes as blue as the sea—how could anyone not find her beautiful!”
Ranshel recited Frey’s appearance exactly as it was described in the game script.
He had read it so often that he practically had it memorized.
He could quote it anytime, without missing a beat.
The more Ranshel spoke, the sharper Zavad’s crimson eyes became.
“…You sure observed a lot in that short time. Liked her that much?”
“Well, obviously—uh?!”
Ranshel flinched.
* * *
