Early the next morning, at the Silver Moon Throne.
This place was a part of the elven sacred relic, the World Tree Yggdrasil, and it also served as the seat of the Elven Court.
The entire elven capital was built around the World Tree, with social status climbing higher along with the elevation. The Silver Moon Throne was the second-highest residential area on the tree.
Shen Luolin followed the maid leading the way, stepping over floors woven from living trees, and was politely “invited” into the Queen’s study.
Sylvia sat behind a massive ebony desk, dressed in elaborate formal court attire, her platinum-blonde hair meticulously tied back.
Before her lay a book as thick as a brick—the *Royal Etiquette Compendium*.
“Before you officially make an appearance as my fiancé, you must master everything inside this book.”
“The elven aristocratic circles are nothing like your dilapidated Duke’s mansion. Any slight impoliteness will be magnified infinitely.”
Luolin sank lazily into the sofa opposite her and let out a yawn, even squeezing out a physiological tear from the corner of his eye.
“Got it. Pre-job training.”
His spineless, listless appearance made Sylvia’s brow twitch violently.
Suppressing the urge to replace him on the spot, she began to explain in a cold tone.
“First is the aristocratic genealogy. You must memorize the crests of every family ranked Marquis and above, the names of the family heads, and their primary interpersonal relationships…”
“Second is court banquets. You must master at least three types of dance, especially the waltz. It is a mandatory requirement for the Founding Day Banquet…”
Sylvia’s voice echoed in the empty study, but Luolin acted as if he hadn’t heard a word. His head nodded rhythmically, looking as if he were about to fall asleep right in front of the Queen.
Sylvia’s patience finally reached its limit.
“Luolin Frost Wolf!” She slammed the table suddenly, causing even the heavy compendium to shudder.
“Are you even listening!”
Luolin was startled by the commotion and finally opened his listless, dead-fish eyes, looking innocent.
“I’m listening.”
“Fine!” Sylvia laughed out of sheer anger. “Then let me ask you: Why did the Duke of Violet suddenly develop a full-body allergy while attending the Harvest Festival 300 years ago?”
This question was so obscure that even court scholars would need to consult records.
She simply wanted to make this arrogant man look like a fool, to make him understand the seriousness of this cooperation.
Luolin rubbed his eyes, suppressing the urge to yawn.
To perfectly play the role of the Queen’s fiancé, he had professionally soaked himself in the library all night, devouring all the aristocratic genealogies and court secrets he could find as if they were novels.
It had to be said that as a top performer who had fought his way through competitive examinations, this kind of rote memorization was practically a dimensional reduction strike.
That unlucky Duke from 300 years ago just happened to be an interesting point he had read about.
“Oh, that,” he spoke languidly. “It’s because the incense at the banquet had angelica added to it. That Duke was allergic to angelica, but it was a secret known only to his personal attendant.”
“Later, that attendant was kicked out of the Duke’s mansion for theft and spread the word. By the way, that outdated incense recipe was banned by the royal family 150 years ago because the cost was too high.”
A deathly silence fell over the study.
All the mockery Sylvia had prepared was stuck in her throat as she stared at him in a daze.
‘How… how could he know that?’
“It seems you aren’t entirely useless.” She forced herself to maintain her dignity, squeezing the words through her teeth before standing up. “Theoretical knowledge can be memorized, but etiquette cannot. Now, demonstrate the opening stance of a court waltz.”
She thought this move would be enough to leave him at a loss.
However, Luolin merely stood up slowly from the sofa, walked over to her, and performed a flawless invitation to dance.
His movements were as precise as if they had been measured with a ruler. His back was straight and his posture was elegant, making him seem like a completely different person from the lazy man he had been a moment ago.
Sylvia was completely stunned.
The things she had planned to take at least one week to drill into this mercenary man… he seemed to already know them all.
The training was forced to end early.
The atmosphere fell into a strange silence. Sylvia looked at the man before her; he had already returned to his lazy state, sinking back into the sofa as if that elegant noble gentleman from a moment ago had merely been her hallucination.
‘What exactly is this guy’s background?’
For the first time, she felt that perhaps she hadn’t found herself a problem, but had instead picked up a hidden treasure.
Her nerves, which had been tense all morning, inexplicably relaxed.
Sylvia even did something she herself found unbelievable—she personally poured him a cup of hot tea.
“You are… a bit better than I imagined.” Her tone was still stiff, but the scrutiny in her voice had vanished.
But right then, the study door was pushed open abruptly, and a maid ran in, panicked.
“Your… Your Majesty! The Miss of the Rhodes family… she, she’s here!”
Sylvia’s expression changed slightly, and her newly relaxed body tensed up again.
She knew her “plastic sister” all too well.
Rosa Rhodes was like a fly; she would surely appear on the scene the second Sylvia showed any weakness.
Before the maid could finish, a splash of eye-catching red walked in with a beaming smile.
“My dear Sylvia, I heard you’ve hidden a precious fiancé in this golden house of yours. Why haven’t you introduced him to your best friend?”
The newcomer was Marquis Rosa Rhodes. The fiery red dress she wore tightly hugged a voluptuous and mature body, the fabric shimmering with a dangerous luster under the lights.
She gave Sylvia a warm hug, but her sharp eyes scraped over Luolin without any attempt at concealment.
Sylvia’s body went rigid.
Rosa released her, sized Luolin up with feigned curiosity, and then threw the first fatal question at Sylvia.
“Speaking of which, I’m truly curious how you two met. You’ve always been so soft-hearted, unable to stand seeing others in a fallen state.”
“After all, the Frostwolf Family… only has a title left on the noble registry now. To think he could climb up to my dear Sylvia.”
Sylvia’s heart sank. Her brain whirled, but she couldn’t find a perfect countermeasure.
They hadn’t had time to coordinate their story for this question yet!
Just as her lips moved, intending to use her royal authority to force a change of subject, a warm, dry hand suddenly covered her cold one.
Sylvia trembled, instinctively wanting to pull her hand away, but he gripped it tighter.
Luolin had stood up beside her at some unknown point.
He held her hand and gave her a reassuring look before calmly meeting Rosa’s provocative gaze.
“Miss Rhodes is right. The Frostwolf Family is indeed not what it used to be.”
“However… at least our family’s title wasn’t renewed by selling out family members.”
He shook his head, his tone so sincere it was almost naive.
“Truly, I admire you—understanding how to sacrifice for your family at such a young age. This Filial Devotion is something even the Royal Ritual Officer should take note of.”
Rosa’s smile froze instantly.
It was common knowledge that Marquis Rhodes had nearly been delisted last year due to unpaid taxes, and the title was only barely saved through a family marriage alliance.
The so-called “sacrifice for the family” was a euphemistic way of saying Rosa had been betrothed to an old man who was nearly the age of her grandfather.
Although he hadn’t expected the relationship between Sylvia and Rosa, Luolin, who had read through the aristocratic genealogy last night, naturally hadn’t missed such juicy gossip.
The color drained from Rosa’s face, her fingers digging sharply into her palms.
She opened her mouth, wanting to fire back with a cold laugh, but found her throat tight—
Because she knew that everyone present understood exactly what was said.
Even the maids passing by the window instinctively softened their footsteps.
The persona she had meticulously maintained was shattered into dust by Luolin’s mention of “Filial Devotion.”
“…The Frostwolf Duke is truly witty.” Her voice trembled, the end of her sentence nearly cracking. “But jokes aside, business cannot be delayed.”
She turned around abruptly, her red dress billowing like a wave of blood, but stopped at the door. Her back was to the two of them, her shoulders slightly heaving.
“Since your relationship is so good, you must bring him to our alma mater’s Centennial Anniversary School Celebration opening ceremony next week.”
She slowly turned her head, her gaze piercing Sylvia.
“Let everyone see exactly what kind of… loyal fiancé my dear ‘Queen’ has chosen.”
As soon as she finished speaking, she swept away, her high heels clicking erratically on the floor, no longer possessing the composed, winning attitude she had arrived with.
The study door closed with a click.
The dead silence lasted only one second.
Immediately following—
“Pfft…”
Sylvia suddenly burst into laughter.
It wasn’t a demure chuckle, but the kind of irrepressible laughter that made her shoulders shake and her eyes tear up.
She covered her mouth with one hand while the other still held the warmth of his palm. Her heart hadn’t settled yet, but the heavy sense of suffocation in her chest had been mostly dispelled by this laughter.
“Aren’t you afraid she’ll go crazy on the spot?”
“She wouldn’t dare,” Luolin said flatly. “Tearing off the mask completely wouldn’t do her marriage any favors.”
“What nobles fear most isn’t being poor; it’s a scandal that can’t be presented decently. And my words just now were right on the edge of being ‘presentable.'”
Sylvia looked at him, the laughter still lingering in her eyes, a trace of warmth quietly spreading in her heart.
Despite having spent so much time with Rosa, she had never seen Rosa look so undignified.
And the man before her had actually made Rosa flee in a pathetic state.
Sylvia even began to feel that perhaps… he shouldn’t just be an employee doing a job for money.
But that thought hadn’t even taken root before Luolin suddenly stretched, his bones letting out a series of soft pops.
“Alright, the first round of overtime is over.”
“The crisis management just now counts as an extra service. Remember to pay extra.”
Sylvia glared at him, not knowing whether to be angry or to laugh.
The strange thing was that despite his constant talk of money and his petty calculations, she felt inexplicably more secure.
She turned her face away, pretending to straighten her skirt to hide the slight curl of her lips, and said coldly, “Go to the accounting office and collect your overtime pay.”
Luolin’s eyes lit up, and he immediately bowed with an exaggerated motion like a street performer. “As you command, Your Majesty! I guarantee that on the day of the school celebration, I’ll make you cry with genuine emotion and laugh without a single flaw!”
Sylvia ignored him, but her fingertips unconsciously rubbed the back of the hand he had just held.
There, a bit of warmth seemed to remain—
Along with a tiny, burgeoning sense of trust that she was unwilling to admit.
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