The air in the room was thick with the scent of sterile herbs and the sharp, metallic tang of knight's armor.
Daniel—now Lucian—blinked. His silver lashes, long and delicate as gossamer threads, fluttered against his pale cheeks.
He looked up, and his heart didn't just beat; it performed a full Olympic floor routine.
Standing there, framed by the morning sun, was Sir Adrian Valtre.
He was even more breathtaking in person. His jawline could have cut glass, and his storm-gray eyes were currently swirling with a tempest of icy disdain.
"You..." Lucian's voice came out as a breathless, melodic rasp. "You are Sir Adrian Valtre."
Internal Daniel: OH MY GOD. He's 4K! He's high-definition! Look at those shoulders! I could park a carriage on those shoulders!
Adrian didn't swoon. He didn't smile. He looked like he wanted to challenge the bedsheets to a duel.
"I am," Adrian said, his voice a low, vibrating rumble of suppressed vitriol. "And I see your theatrical display failed to reach its final curtain."
He stepped closer, the floorboards groaning under his polished sabatons.
"If this engagement was so abhorrent to you," Adrian hissed, his lip curling in a beautiful, terrifying snarl, "you could have discussed the matter with your brother. There was no need for such... desperate measures."
Internal Daniel: Wait, what? Oh... Oh no.
Memory flooded back like a bucket of ice water. The "original" Lucian hadn't just been a jerk. He was a catastrophic brat. To avoid marrying the "lowly" (but incredibly hot) knight, Lucian had swallowed a vial of poison.
He hadn't intended to die; he'd intended to guilt-trip the entire kingdom.
Internal Daniel: You idiot! You drank liquid to fake death to get away from THIS man? This specimen? This work of art? I would have walked to the altar on broken glass!
"I..." Lucian stammered, his mind racing.
Adrian's expression was a masterpiece of unforgiving granite. He looked at Lucian not as a fiancé, but as a stain on his family's honor.
"Save your breath for your next scheme," Adrian said, turning on his heel.
He began to walk away. The cape of his silver armor swirled—a majestic, dramatic exit.
Action! Daniel thought. Do something! If he leaves now, he'll hate me until Chapter 50!
Lucian lunged.
He didn't mean to, but his new body was as light as a bird and twice as clumsy. He tumbled from the silk sheets, his fingers catching the edge of Adrian's heavy, velvet cloak.
Thud.
Lucian landed on the rug, looking like a discarded pile of expensive lace. He looked up, eyes wide and glistening with genuine, fanboy-induced tears.
"Wait!" Lucian gasped, clutching the knight's hem.
Adrian stopped. He looked down at the pathetic figure on the floor, his hand hovering over the hilt of his sword as if he expected a trick.
"What now, Lucian? Another fainting spell? A sudden bout of amnesia?"
Lucian swallowed hard. He needed to bridge the gap. He needed to show this icy knight that the brat was gone and a simp had arrived.
"The poison..." Lucian whispered, his voice trembling. "It didn't clear my mind. It... it woke me up."
He looked directly into Adrian's storm-gray eyes, pouring every ounce of his "obsessed reader" energy into the gaze.
"I didn't do it because I hated you, Adrian," Lucian lied with the grace of a professional diplomat. "I did it because I was a fool who didn't know how to look at you properly. Please... don't go."
Adrian froze.
For the first time, the "Silver Knight" looked genuinely unsettled. His "unforgiving" mask cracked, revealing a flash of pure, bewildered confusion.
Internal Daniel: Yes! The 'Sincerity Attack'! It works in every Chapter 3!
"You," Adrian said, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper, "what's gotten into you."