Chapter 8

Princess Margarita.

The last surviving royal and the Countess of Queensguard.

Cynthia wore the exact same pure smile that had remained in the duke’s childhood memories.

Count Queensguard leaned in and whispered quietly to the duke, who was staring blankly at Cynthia—

“Isn’t it a fortunate thing that the one being deceived isn’t you, Your Grace?”

“...How astonishing.”

He had doubted it for a moment, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized—there was no reason to use a descendant of the royal family, someone who would be a great asset in a political marriage, as a mere maid.

Regaining his composure, the duke offered a courteous smile.

“Lady Cynthia, may God bless you in your future endeavors.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.”

Cynthia had no idea that the duke was already aware of her true identity.

Helene then approached Cynthia, lifting the champagne glass in her hand.

“Cindy, are you enjoying life in the capital?”

“Yup.”

Cynthia responded in casual speech without hesitation.

Still wearing a faint smile, Helene took Cynthia’s hand.

“I’m so glad we’ll be living in the same city.”

“Yeah, that’s great. Your Grace, could I come over and visit my sister often?”

The duke nodded in agreement at Cynthia’s innocent question.

“Of course. You may visit anytime.”

“Please take good care of my pretty sister. She may look like a prickly cat on the outside, but she's as soft as a mouse on the inside.”

Helene’s expression subtly shifted as she listened.

‘That felt kind of insulting… or am I just being sensitive?’

She couldn’t tell if it was a backhanded insult or a compliment.

The artificially created family appeared quite natural together, and it was Cynthia’s effortlessly casual demeanor that made it convincing.

“Brother Edford, did your nose get bigger? Is it still growing?”

“How rude…!”

Cynthia leaned in close to Edford, whose face had turned bright red, and whispered in his ear.

“This is how real siblings act, you know? Try to keep up.”

“But why do you keep speaking informally to me?”

“I’m officially registered in the family, so aren’t we family?”

“Ugh…”

The words “You lowly maid” had almost slipped from his mouth, but he endured it. After all, everyone would be doomed if he said them out loud.

Cynthia knew that fact very well. That was exactly why she used the so-called blatant taunting method.

Just then, Massera approached with a plate of cake and stood beside Cynthia.

Edford found himself involuntarily staring at Massera—his uniformed, solid build and striking looks made quite the impression.

“Thank you for coming. I hope you enjoy your time together as a family after so long.”

Cynthia quickly linked her arm through his, detaining him right there when he seemed ready to leave after a quick greeting.

“Honey, what took you so long?”

Honey? Massera’s lips pressed into a flat line, then quickly relaxed as if remembering where they were.

He was recalling Cynthia’s forced directive to “act like a couple madly in love in front of her family.”

Raising his chin proudly, Massera said—

“There was some strawberry cake over there.”

“Oh, my favorite cake? Did you bring it just for me? How sweet of you.”

He hadn’t intended that at all, but she twisted it to sound that way.

Cynthia plucked the strawberry right off Massera’s cake and ate it.

Massera silently looked down at the now strawberry-less cake.

‘...How annoying.’

Even after committing the high crime of stealing the cake’s strawberry, she smiled brightly like nothing was wrong.

“Is it good?”

“Yes! It tastes even better because you gave it to me, General.”

Massera couldn’t shake the feeling that he was somehow being played by her.

But he was a man who was good at hiding his expressions.

Thanks to that, he simply looked like a man fondly indulging his fiancée.

“Cindy, have you two grown that close already?”

It was Carlos’s voice that chimed in.

Massera’s gaze landed on Carlos, who was watching them with a stiff expression.

He recalled the unpleasant rumors he’d heard through Dahlia about Carlos and Cynthia.

It was a baseless accusation, but people rarely cared about the truth.

Cynthia nodded her head and tightened her hold on his arm.

“Of course. He fell in love with me at first sight.”

‘When did I ever?’

Looking up at Massera, who furrowed his brow instead of answering, Cynthia added—

“I did as well. I fell for him at first sight.”

Her words sent a shiver through him, like something had struck deep in his chest.

‘What a troublesome woman.’

Massera sighed and brushed back his bangs.

Meanwhile, Count Queensguard clicked his tongue inwardly and shook his head as he watched the strange tension between the two.

‘...So even General Vicente is just a man in the end. Who would’ve thought he’d act like a tamed dog in front of Cynthia.’

When he saw how Cynthia wrapped Carlos and Edford around her finger, he realized she was no ordinary woman.

Meanwhile, the duke was discreetly observing Massera and Cynthia, pretending not to.

‘She managed to change him that much in such a short time?’

Having served in the military together, he knew well how cold and ruthless the man could be.

The Massera he knew would never be the kind of man to give up the strawberry on his cake.

‘It almost feels like a waste to use her as just a disposable tool.’

The Duke narrowed his eyes as he watched Cynthia.

Thinking about Massera falling in love with her, only to lose her and be tormented by grief—it didn’t sound so bad.

***

As the banquet reached its peak, Cynthia poked Massera in the arm while watching couples dancing in the hall.

Massera, holding a fresh slice of strawberry cake, hid it behind him and looked down at her.

“Please ask me for a dance. I heard the man has to ask first.”

At her words, Massera tilted his head slightly.

Nobles usually hid their feelings and rarely made such direct requests.

“What if I don’t want to?”

“Then I’ll dance with someone else. Like Eugene.”

Off in the distance, Eugene was visible—ducking behind Dahlia the moment he met Cynthia’s eyes.

At that moment, someone approached and held out a hand toward Cynthia.

“General Vicente, may I borrow Cindy for a moment?”

Massera lowered his gaze and stared at him. Why was he so persistent in picking fights in such subtle ways?

“You refer to her like she’s an object.”

Carlos simply shook his head and smiled casually.

“That wasn’t my intention. She’s my dearest younger sister. I simply wanted to dance with her after such a long time.”

Cynthia frowned as she watched the subtle battle of nerves between the two men.

‘What’s up with Carlos? Did his brain freeze from the cold or something?’

As far as Cynthia remembered, Carlos had always been cold to her when she sought his affection.

And only when she grew tired and was about to turn away would he treat her kindly.

‘Forget this. I’ll just go eat cookies with Eugene.’

Just as she took three steps toward Eugene, who stood across the room, she felt a chill down her spine.

At that exact moment—

Crash!

A small chandelier hanging from the ceiling came crashing down and shattered into pieces.

“Wh-What was that?”

Startled cries erupted from the crowd of people.

Cynthia swallowed hard as she realized the chandelier had fallen right where she had just been standing.

Her eyes then met Massera’s, who had been standing behind her.

A flicker of panic flashed in his eyes as he reached out to her before quickly disappearing.

“As long as you’re not hurt, that’s all that matters.”

Hey! At least pretend to sound worried!

Cynthia looked at him in disbelief.

Eventually, Carlos came over and feigned concern.

“Cindy! Are you hurt anywhere?”

Fortunately, no one had been injured and the banquet resumed after a moment of tidying up.

Raising his champagne glass, a politician spoke loudly—

“Haha, we need to liven things up again. They say royal descendants have special powers, don’t they? If the lady has an ability as special as her unique appearance, how about showing us?”

He was a commoner-born member of the parliament and, to boot, one who opposed the monarchy.

His clearly provocative remark drew everyone’s attention.

And Edford stepped forward, eager to humiliate Cynthia.

“Of course, sir. Cynthia, in particular, possesses a very special ability.”

At that, Count Queensguard frowned and gave Cynthia a subtle look.

It was a silent cue that said she might as well show them something.

‘Come to think of it, there are bound to be people here who harbor hostility toward the royal family.’

She had already finished analyzing the guests present.

Quickly composing a pleasant smile, Cynthia spoke—

“Allow me to show you, then.”

She instructed a servant to fetch her paper and a pen.

“Ever since I was young, I’ve always been able to pick up on what other people are thinking. I’m not quite sure why though.”

Holding the paper and pen in hand, Cynthia locked eyes with the assemblyman.

As he met her crimson eyes, he felt an inexplicable sense of being overpowered.

Soon, Cynthia’s low voice echoed in his head like a low hum.

“It means I can read your mind.”

At that, the assemblyman’s pupils wavered slightly.

‘If I’ve staked my life on this, I have to be ready to deceive the whole word.’

A strange gleam flickered in Cynthia’s deep red eyes.