Aeren finished his shopping with remarkable speed. He had taken everything he needed—formal wear, casual attire, and even a few extra sets for "unpredictable situations."
Of course, unpredictable was a word he rarely acknowledged in his mind. In Aeren's worldview, there was nothing he couldn't foresee. Nothing beyond his control.
Once he was done, he glanced around the store, expecting to find Olivia nearby. But she wasn't there.
His brows furrowed slightly. He looked through the aisles methodically, scanning faces with his usual sharp precision. After a few minutes, he spotted her—standing just outside the shop.
From a distance, she looked composed, her silver hair catching the light like liquid moonlight. Even while waiting alone, Olivia's posture carried the effortless grace of royalty. Yet something in her eyes betrayed a quiet restlessness. She looked around, left and right, as though searching for something—or someone.
Aeren frowned slightly.
He couldn't quite understand it. There was no trace of affection from her that he could perceive, no emotional warmth aimed his way. And yet, she was waiting—for him.
He approached. Within moments, he stood before her.
Olivia turned her gaze toward him, her expression unreadable but her eyes bright with faint intrigue. For a brief second, she studied him—his steady walk, the bags in his hand, the slight sheen of confidence in his posture.
Then, she smiled.
"Have you finished your shopping?" she asked lightly, her tone sincere, the faintest curve of amusement at her lips. But her eyes—those violet eyes—remained fixed on him, filled with something deeper.
Aeren met her gaze, silently analysing. He could read most people within seconds—their motives, fears, thoughts—but Olivia was an exception. Her behaviour didn't fit any predictable pattern.
Yes, she was interested in him—but not in the way others were. It wasn't admiration or desire. It was something else. Something he couldn't define.
And for the first time in a long while, he couldn't predict her.
"Yes," Aeren replied at last. "I've finished all the shopping I came for."
A short silence followed—comfortable for her, analytical for him.
Then, after a brief pause, he added calmly,
"But I'm thinking of buying a gift for you."
Olivia looked at him, searching his face intently for any trace of emotion.
The small smile Aeren had worn moments ago had already vanished completely. His expression was calm, utterly unreadable, and his gaze drifted ahead rather than toward her.
She couldn't understand him. His composure, his detachment—it all made her feel strangely uncertain. He was her fiancé, yet he showed no sign of affection, no spark of interest. It was as though she were speaking to a perfectly carved statue.
Still, she reminded herself, she wasn't much different. Her own fixation wasn't born of love. It was obsession—pure and consuming. She was drawn not to him, but to the image of his blood… that radiant red she had once seen and could never forget.
It was beautiful. Too beautiful.
And as she stood there, she realised something deeply unsettling—Aeren might want something from her too. Just as she desired his blood, perhaps he saw her as another piece in his carefully designed plan.
"I know a place," Olivia said softly, breaking the silence. "You'll find the perfect gift for me there."
Accepting this as part of his greater design, she recognised that he was considering what she wanted—positioning her within whatever plan he held. She would reciprocate equally; there was nothing wrong with mutual exchange. Pushing aside her earlier realisation, she embraced a new thought—one of simple balance rather than dark obsession.
Her words held quiet authority, reminding him—intentionally or not—that this was her home, her capital, her territory.
Aeren turned his gaze to her, as if about to question where she meant, but before he could speak, she met his eyes and smiled faintly.
He gave a small breath through his nose, almost amused. Then, calmly, he replied, "What are you waiting for? It's going to be your gift anyway. Of course, the gift should be decided by you."
A polite smile touched his lips as he spoke, his tone smooth and patient, betraying no real interest—only formality.
Olivia studied him closely, but as always, she couldn't read a single emotion from him. No curiosity. No hesitation. Just an unreadable calm that made her want to break that stillness—to make him feel something genuine.
"Alright then," she said finally, turning away with a composed smile. "Let's go. It's not far from here—we can reach it within a few minutes' walk."
Without waiting for his reply, she started ahead. Aeren followed after her, his steps quiet and even, closing the distance until he walked beside her once more.
Two figures—one calm, one restless—moving side by side through the capital's bright streets, each hiding something the other could not see.
A few minutes later,
They reached a place where white marble was visible from the outside, and it looked like a temple in its architectural beauty. The structure was perfect, and this place was not a shop or ordinary establishment; it was a palace. Here, an auction was happening actively. As Aeren observed, he realised there was nothing that could surprise her, even if he bought a gift from a shop. He had worried that he might not find anything that would surprise her, so he had been considering creating something from reality to give to her.
But now his doubt was clarified, and he wouldn't have sweated himself for a small gift. As he could see the grand auction unfolding, opposite to him, now he just needed to bid on the best thing he could perceive and give to her.
"How is it?" Olivia smiled as she questioned Aeren, her eyes watching his reaction as his gaze was fixed on the big palace of auction, still in active process. Her proud face lifted high as she questioned him with satisfaction.
"It's perfect," Aeren replied to her, as his head still turned toward the white palace that looked like a temple.
"Greetings, Princess Olivia." A man bowed deeply as soon as he spotted her, his movements sharp and respectful. He quickly approached, lowering his head again as he spoke with genuine reverence.
He immediately turned to the attendants nearby, giving swift instructions to prepare one of the VIP rooms for her. The princess's unexpected arrival was no small event—it was an honor none of them had anticipated.
The man, still bowing, was both delighted and stunned. He hadn't imagined that someone of her standing would appear here, at his auction house, without formal notice.
Today's auction had already been remarkable—each item selling far above its estimated price. But now, with Princess Olivia herself stepping through the marble gates, the excitement in the air intensified. Whispers would spread. Bidders would grow bolder. And the evening, already prosperous, had just turned unforgettable.
"Oh, Viscount Kane Tric. You don't have to greet me personally," Olivia said, her voice composed and regal. Her posture was flawless—every movement refined, every glance measured. She looked down on him slightly, not out of disdain, but as one born to authority.
Yet her tone softened at the end, a gentle courtesy tempering her words.
Kane gave an awkward but respectful smile, bowing again. "How could I not greet you personally, Your Highness?" he replied earnestly. "It would be unthinkable—disrespectful—for any noble of this empire to neglect the honor of the royal bloodline."
His voice carried a sincere confidence, his loyalty evident not only in his tone but in the way he spoke—careful, reverent, practiced.
As he straightened, his gaze shifted subtly toward the young man standing beside the princess. His expression changed—curiosity flickered behind his composed smile. He had never seen this man before.
There was something different about him. The way he stood—calm, unreadable, unbothered by the attention—gave off an aura that didn't belong to an ordinary noble.
Who is he? Kane wondered silently, studying Aeren's features, his bearing, his quiet confidence. The rumors he had once dismissed began to stir in his mind. Rumors about Princess Olivia… and her mysterious engagement.
Unable to contain his curiosity, he finally spoke. "Who is he, Princess Olivia?"
Before Olivia could answer, Aeren spoke for himself.
"I am Prince Aeren Vorthis," he said calmly, his eyes meeting Kane's without the faintest hint of hesitation. "Fiancé of Princess Olivia."
The words hung in the air.
For a moment, Kane simply stared. Then a wide smile spread across his face, his mind reeling. Vorthis…
The Vorthis Empire—the long-standing rival of their own. He had heard whispers, quiet and unconfirmed, that the princess might one day marry across borders. But hearing it confirmed from the prince himself—it was beyond what he'd expected.
"I see," Kane said finally, his voice steady but laced with awe. "So the rumors were true after all."
He bowed again, lower this time, his tone now weighted with both respect and cautious admiration. "It's an honor to host the two of you today."
As he straightened, his eyes flicked between them—Olivia's calm elegance and Aeren's composed stillness. For the first time, he felt the weight of what stood before him: not just two nobles, but a union powerful enough to shake empires.