‘Knock knock.’
Suddenly, a knocking sound echoed from outside the room.
Celicia’s farewell speech was abruptly interrupted, and her delicate hand, which was gradually retracting, froze mid-air. She glanced at the door, a clear hint of displeasure in her eyes.
“Make whoever it is leave,” Celicia commanded coldly to Mu’en.
“Can’t do,” Mu’en shook his head vigorously. “This room is soundproof. Besides the knocking, no sound can get in or out.”
“…”
Celicia’s brows furrowed slightly as she stared at Mu’en, seemingly deep in thought.
Eventually, she retracted her hands—hands that could have brought death to Mu’en at any moment—and slowly stood up.
“I’ll spare your life… for now.”
“Th-thank you…?”
“Get dressed and open the door.”
“…Okay.”
Mu’en, who had teetered on the edge of death multiple times, felt as if he’d been granted a pardon. He quickly got up and scrambled to put on his clothes.
The specially tailored ceremonial outfit, weighing a whopping 20 kilograms, was a nightmare to put on. If it weren’t for the fact that Mu’en had watched the maid dress him earlier, he’d probably be struggling to even figure out which way was up.
Still, in his panic, he almost put the inner lining on backward several times, wasting a lot of time in the process.
While wrestling with the clothes, he heard the faint rustling of fabric behind him, which inevitably brought back memories of the earlier… ‘incident’.
“If you dare to look back, even with others present, I’ll kill you on the spot,” Celicia’s icy voice rang out behind him.
“…” Mu’en shuddered and focused intently on his battle with the outfit.
…
After finally getting dressed, the sounds behind him had completely ceased. Mu’en couldn’t resist glancing back.
There, Celicia sat gracefully on the sofa, using a self-condensed ice mirror to tidy her silvery hair. The simple yet elegant white dress clung perfectly to her curvaceous figure, exuding an otherworldly beauty. It was as if nothing had happened.
If it weren’t for the fact that Mu’en’s legs were still a bit wobbly, he would’ve thought the entire ordeal was just a dream.
“Wait.”
Just as Mu’en was about to open the door, Celicia called out to him. She casually pulled out a delicately crafted perfume bottle and sprayed it several times into the air.
After giving it a sniff to ensure the strange scent was completely gone, she nodded.
“Go ahead.”
…
Mu’en walked to the door.
After the series of events and near-death experiences, Mu’en’s heart was only now beginning to calm down.
But he didn’t feel the joy of having narrowly escaped death.
Because the plot had completely deviated from the original story, hurtling down a path of reckless self-destruction.
The only roads left for Mu’en now were to be killed by Celicia, hanged by the enraged king, or, as in his precognitive dream, be sliced into a thousand pieces by an unknown assailant.
Each option was a dead end.
“So, Protagonist, Protagonist, what good are you showing up now?”
Mu’en opened the door.
He thought it would be Ariel, the protagonist, who had finally arrived.
But it wasn’t.
Outside was a maid, holding a tray of pastries and tea.
Her face, however, was obscured by the shadow cast by the door, making it hard to see.
“Young Master Mu’en, Madam noticed that you and the Princess have been chatting for quite a while. She thought you might be hungry, so she sent me with some pastries.”
“Oh, oh.”
So it was Mother. She saw me inviting Celicia into a private room, huh?
As expected of Mother, timing it so perfectly.
Mu’en didn’t think much of it and stepped aside.
“Put it on the table over there.”
“Yes.”
The maid nodded respectfully and, carrying the tray, entered the room.
As she passed Mu’en, her face was illuminated by the soft light in the room.
“Wait.”
Mu’en suddenly realized something was off.
“Why have I never seen you before?”
The maids in the Duke’s Mansion went through rigorous screening and training. Most of them had been raised in the mansion from a young age, trained specifically to prevent any malicious individuals from infiltrating.
Even though Mu’en had only transmigrated here yesterday, his memories of the original host should’ve included some familiarity with every maid in the mansion.
At most, he might’ve forgotten their names.
But when he saw this maid’s face, the only thing that registered in his mind was “stranger.”
“Of course, Young Master Mu’en doesn’t know me,” the maid said without stopping. “I was only selected to join the mansion last night.”
“Last night…”
Mu’en connected the dots. “You were here to help with the banquet?”
“That’s correct. I was here to help,” the maid said as she walked to the center of the room and placed the tray with the cake and teacup on the table.
“Though I also had… another task.”
“Another… task?”
Mu’en was still processing the maid’s words when he suddenly saw her pull out a gleaming dagger from the bottom of the tray.
The motion was so smooth and natural that Mu’en was momentarily stunned before he reacted.
His heart and pupils constricted, and blood rushed to his brain, causing his thoughts to race in that split second.
—Her target isn’t me. She had the perfect opportunity when she first entered.
Which means…
“Celicia!”
Mu’en couldn’t help but shout a warning.
The maid’s figure vanished.
Like a fragile illusion under the sunlight.
And the next moment, she reappeared right in front of Celicia.
“So fast!”
Mu’en couldn’t help but exclaim.
The rooms in the Duke’s Mansion were never small.
Since the tea table had been knocked over and then set back up, there was a good few meters of distance between it and the sofa.
But for the maid, that distance seemed nonexistent.
In the blink of an eye, the sharp dagger in her hand was slicing toward Celicia’s pale, delicate neck.
The Grim Reaper raised his scythe.
…
‘Clink.’
The bloodbath Mu’en had imagined didn’t happen.
Celicia’s expression remained cold, and her calm eyes showed no trace of panic in the face of the maid’s sudden attack.
At some point, she had raised her hand, and the ice mirror in her palm had transformed into a slender, ice-blue sword, perfectly blocking the dagger.
From the point where the ice sword and the dagger met, an invisible ripple spread out, shattering the tea table and sofa and leaving sharp cuts on the surrounding walls!
“Let me guess,” Celicia said icily, staring at the maid. “Was it my foolish older brother who sent you?”
“Sorry, Princess, but the employer’s identity is classified,” the maid said as she suddenly leapt back, though there was no sign of retreat in her eyes. She was just creating distance to prepare for another attack.
But Celicia wasn’t about to give her that chance!
With a light tap of her foot, a thin layer of frost rapidly spread toward the maid, and with the help of a bit of moisture on the floor, it surged even faster!
As the maid dodged, she couldn’t help but frown. “Where’d all this water come from?”
“…”
For the first time, an expression other than icy indifference appeared on Celicia’s face—a hint of embarrassment, her cheeks slightly flushed. She stomped her foot, and the frost suddenly formed countless sharp ice thorns, shooting up toward the maid, who had no way to dodge mid-air.
