Celine and Vivian stood alone in a small courtyard nestled somewhere in the Royal Academy. It was scattered with the communal gardens that the Gardening club raised, and colonnades decorated the cloisters that enclosed the open area. The stone bricks underneath their feet were starting to show hints of moss in their divots.

They were the only ones there. Vivian was weeping, and Celine stood numbly.

"I'm sorry, Celine. You shouldn't be here." Her eyes were filled with pain, and her hand reached out as if she wished to hold Celine's.

"..." Celine said nothing.

"You know what'll happen if anyone sees you with me. It doesn't matter what I say. They'll say you're doing cruel things to me regardless." Said Vivian, looking down until her caramel bangs covered her eyes.

"I wanted to see you, Vivian. I missed you." Celine's voice was flat and forlorn.

She worried that Vivian wouldn't be able to cope with the falsehoods that had become the school's truth. The poor girl had been bullied enough as a child for her familial background, and no one had stayed by her side at that time. And yet, now, when Vivian had found good friends for herself, rumors were tearing them apart. Celine's brow furrowed minutely.

"I know... I know... But you must be patient. I cannot withstand their slander of you any longer," Vivian said solemnly. "At least... I should not contribute to it." She said, clutching the hem of her dress at her wrist.

"Just wait, Celine. Once all this ends, we can be together again." Vivian's voice came out hopeful and pained, barely a whisper.

Celine said nothing once again. She had hoped that if her friends stayed, that if they proved their friendship, the rumors would disappear. But Laura and Marie had already left. Their reputations were their entire future, after all. Marie's future marriage prospects, and Laura's entire family business, everything could be influenced by petty rumors spread by noble children during their teenage years. Vivian was the last one to leave.

Celine's future was also defined by her reputation. No noblewoman could escape from it. A noble's honor was their pride, and no noble would do dealings with a bully.

That's why she wasn't surprised when the letter of annulment arrived on her desk, golden paper that glimmered like the dreams of a girl who wanted the world.

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The invitation wasn't unexpected at all, though it slipped her mind. It was customary to visit ones engagement partner after the initial announcement, regardless of how close you were with the person.

Of course, the two were almost strangers. For the entirety of her past life, Prince Midas had internally viewed the engagement like some inevitable thing that he didn't give a damn about. Meanwhile, Celine had made sure to display her lack of romantic interest and desire for a purely business relationship. She thought he might appreciate it. She didn't expect any romantic escapades or whatever. The one thing she had hoped for was that he'd give her some general interest, more so than her family members had for her, at least.

He did not. Though he approached her with a smile and with all the niceties one may offer, he was disinterested in her. He even refrained from going with her to social events, citing business. This prevented Celine from attending any important events due to the fact it would ruin her image if she went alone.

Well, it's not like him attending parties with her would have changed anything. Her reputation crumbled regardless.

Celine gave the invitation a quick once over before tossing it back to Sedgewick carelessly. The invitation was in a few days, so she had time to think about how to go about it. This was just for formalities, but obviously, Celine wasn't going to approach him with the intention to become queen this time.

Celine spent the next few days snacking and reading novels in her nightgown, ensuring that if Midas' presence bothered her immensely, she'd be comforted by the fact she lazed around beforehand.

She wore a light green, long-sleeved dress with pale yellow lace decorating it. She asked Miriam to keep her makeup and hairstyle as generic as she could.

The carriage ride was long, as the Aquitaine manor was a way out from the capital's center, but it didn't feel lengthy to Celine. She moved with purpose, and before long, she'd stepped into the palace with a knight in tow.

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The halls of the royal palace were large, but Celine had already traversed them a few times. She walked ahead of the servant leading her to the meeting room.

Upon entry, Prince Midas was nowhere to be found.

No matter. Celine sat on a plush chair and folded her hands on her lap, eyes closed. The furniture was a warm brown, and the large window had been opened partially to let in some fresh air. The room was pristine, but upon closer look, was coated in a thin layer of dust as if the prince wasn't fond of receiving guests.

Just like before, it would be half an hour until he arrived. Time ticked by steadily.

Finally, the door creaked open. Celine opened her eyes. Prince Midas strode in. His pale blonde hair caught the light flawlessly. A faint smile played on his lips as he approached.

"Lady Celine," he said, his gaze casually sweeping over her.

Celine rose from her seat with grace, curtsying politely, but not too reverently.

"Your Highness," she greeted.

"I trust the journey here wasn't too tiring?" He sat across from her.

"It was not, your highness." She said blandly. She would bore him with little effort, and she was sure the engagement would dissolve quickly once more.

"Good, good. It's been quite some time since we last greeted each other. Four years, perhaps?" He mused, languid.

"Indeed, Your Highness. It is a pleasure to greet the star of the empire once more."

Prince Midas looked at her strangely.

"I had heard you were more... eager for this engagement, Lady Celine. But it doesn't seem like you care much for it at all."

Prince Midas continued studying her, no doubt recalling the rumors he'd likely heard—that Celine was a dutiful daughter, always dedicated to her studies and her future. But this was their first face-to-face meeting, and Celine had the power to change her image as easily as she wished.

"Forgive me if I seem indifferent, Your Highness," she said, her voice steady. "I have resolved to fulfill my duty as your partner and nothing more."

"I see."

"..."

A long pause ensued. A draft from the window gently ruffled Celine's hair.

"I agree, let us fulfill our duties." Prince Midas said, content. The conversation fell flat, and Celine stared at him blankly. The Prince's eyes wandered out the window, his gloved hand resting on his cheek.

Celine smirked imperceptibly. This was the moment his patience would end.

"Mildred." He called out the name of his servant. "Bring her some tea." A woman emerged from the doorway and immediately started her task. Prince Midas stood up, adjusting his collar.

"Apologies, I have some work to do. Please enjoy the palace to your fullest. Thank you for your time." Without hesitation, he strode out the door purposefully. No doubt he had better things to do than play nice with the equivalent of a blank white wall. Celine smirked.

She watched the door click shut behind him, and her smirk faded into a neutral expression. So easy to do nothing, to go unnoticed.

"That was quick," she said under her breath. She leaned back in the chair, crossing her legs.

Celine would be in a bad position as long as the engagement existed. This was only the beginning. Later on, she would end it for good.

"There's no need for tea," Celine said as the maid started to prepare it, delicately waving a hand. "I'd like to take a stroll through the imperial gardens."

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The imperial gardens were solitary and dense, unlike the expansive gardens with wide paths that surrounded the Aquitaine manor. Instead, imperial gardens were known for their unusually dense greenery after being renovated by the previous empress who supposedly wanted to feel as if she was in a real forest.

The garden walkway was thin, with loose dirt crunching beneath Celine's heels. She was a ways in and the garden only seemed to get thicker the farther she went. Stone benches appeared occasionally on her sides, but were covered in vines. The plants were tall, oppressive yet comfortable. Tendrils of flowering bushels impeded her view. The smell of soil was thick, and for a moment, it brought back memories that made Celine feel unbearably nauseous. The feeling of dirt under her nails ghosted the tips of her fingers.

She considered turning back, but honestly, she didn't care to. She tried to immerse herself in the sights and smells as if the garden's compact ambiance would drown out her thoughts.

Celine was feeling very bitter. She'd anticipated this. She'd anticipated how the meeting would go, and even attained her desired outcome. Yet, just like in her past life, the feeling of being dismissed ground against a place deep within her despite her rationalities.

The forest's isolation was doing more harm than good to Celine's mental state. The quiet seemed to mock her. It was familiar, parallel to the silence and isolation she had been exiled in before her death. The path grew more overgrown, and Celine began to sweat.

Suddenly, her foot caught on something solid. She stumbled forward, arms flailing to catch her balance, but her heel sank into the dirt and she fell, crashing into the ground. Her knees hit the ground, and she yelped, looking behind her to see what she'd tripped on.

A foot.

Her gaze traveled upward, following the outstretched leg to the figure lounging against a tree, half-hidden by the dense foliage. A man seemed to have woken up suddenly, rubbing his eyes and looking at Celine blearily. Yet, even partially hidden by leaves, the guy's light blonde hair was unmistakable.

"Ouch... watch where you're going..."

An elegant but boyish voice spoke. His eyes opened, revealing green irises. He had delicate eyelashes that cast shadows under his eyes, and fair skin that glowed. His jawline was strong, but not overpowering. One hand ran through tousled hair, with long fingers and only the faintest scars from swordsmanship practice.

Celine had seen this person before. Of course she had. This man was Isolde Algeo Copral, the second prince of the Copria kingdom.