Wendy followed Astreia, stepping into the bedroom he knew all too well.
The furnishings were identical, and even the air carried the unique scent of the Princess—a mix of sweat and faint floral fragrance.
This was the battlefield where they had once clashed, meeting each other in utter honesty.
For some reason, recalling all this made the heart that had been stuck in Wendy’s throat inexplicably return to its place.
He even thought, maybe things weren’t so bad after all.
However, in the very next second—
A crisp “click” echoed behind him.
The sound of the lock falling into place.
Wendy’s body froze instantly, the heart he had just managed to settle being gripped once more by an invisible hand and lifted higher than before.
He turned stiffly, meeting Astreia’s calm, unwavering starry gaze head-on.
Her Highness had already removed her armor, dressed only in a thin white shirt and tight pants.
The voluptuous curves, scorned by mainstream aesthetics, now radiated a terrifying pressure in Wendy’s eyes.
“Speak.”
Astreia took a step closer, the distance between them shrinking to less than an arm’s length.
“What exactly happened these past two days?”
Wendy’s throat suddenly felt dry.
“W-what I just said… that’s all of it.”
He forced himself to hold on, trying to squeeze out a smile as genuine as those he wore in the bedroom.
“The Veid Family’s conspiracy was foiled, you returned at just the right time, and we…”
“Wendy.”
Astreia interrupted the Prince, circling him and beginning to pace slowly, like a lioness examining her prey.
“Did you know? You have a little habit when you lie.”
Her steps stopped behind him.
“The vein on the left side of your neck twitches ever so slightly.”
“What?”
Wendy almost reacted on instinct, raising his hand to touch his neck.
But another arm was faster.
In the instant he lifted his hand, Astreia had already flashed behind him, wrapping around his neck with precision and force, yanking him half a step backward!
“Ugh!”
Wendy grunted, his back slamming solidly into a warm, resilient embrace.
Cold metal bracers pressed tightly against the skin of his throat, and beyond them, the Princess’s burning hand.
A powerful sense of suffocation and helplessness at being utterly dominated swept through his entire body.
“Wendy, you’re nervous.”
Astreia’s red lips were nearly pressed against the Prince’s ear, her warm breath mixing with an irrefutable accusation as it drilled into him.
“So… why?”
What should he do?
What now?!
She really heard everything!
She never believed him!
Everything outside just now was all an act!
No—wait! What if it’s a bluff to trick me?
Absolutely cannot admit it!
Wendy’s mind raced, cold sweat beading uncontrollably at his temple as his heartbeat thundered in his ears.
Since coming to this world, this was only the second time he’d felt such pure, uncontrollable fear.
If he admitted it, Astreia would snap, completely blacken…
He didn’t dare imagine the consequences.
This wasn’t just a matter of whether he’d survive.
It was whether the entire Erashia Continent would fall into a Bad End because he couldn’t control himself!
“Astreia… you’re hurting me.”
Wendy forced the words out, trying to muddle through by playing weak—the tactic he was best at.
But the person behind him remained unmoved.
Instead, the arm wrapped around his neck tightened, inch by inch.
“Wendy, as my future partner…”
Astreia’s voice was still calm, but the Prince could sense a dangerous undercurrent surging beneath it.
“I can endure everything about you—your disguises, your schemes, even your lechery. But there’s one thing I can never forgive… and that’s deceit.”
The air grew thinner, and black spots began to dance before Wendy’s eyes.
“Do you understand what I mean?!”
The arm around his neck suddenly tightened.
“Guh…!”
The crushing sensation suffocated all thought.
Survival instinct sent him struggling, his hands clawing at the iron grip, his legs kicking uselessly.
But before the Northern Lioness, his strength was no more than a newborn kitten’s.
The shadow of death had never loomed so clearly above him.
Yet, on the brink of blackout, in the final moment before reason was swallowed by darkness, an absurd thought stubbornly crawled out from the depths of Wendy’s mind.
He stopped resisting.
His tense body loosened in a strange way.
In the pain of suffocation, he quietly closed his eyes and began to recite, almost reverently, in his heart.
2, 3, 5, 7, 11, 13…
One by one, cold, unrelated Prime Numbers acted like anchors, miraculously pulling his shredded consciousness back to reality.
The tension and fear ebbed like a receding tide.
Images surfaced in Wendy’s mind, beyond his control.
He remembered their first meeting at Sunset Fortress, her clumsy but genuine protection.
The blush of her healthy skin in the bath, tinged with shyness.
The heat and madness after she shed her armor in the bedroom, overwhelming and irresistible.
And in the Royal Capital, when she entrusted the future of the kingdom and her own safety to him without reservation, those clear, trusting eyes.
Deceit…
Yes, he could deceive anyone.
Yekaterina.
Laxana.
The entire world.
But…
He shouldn’t deceive Astreia.
The force behind him, as if sensing his change, eased slightly, granting him a chance to breathe.
Wendy sucked in the precious air, breathing heavily, silent for a long time.
At last, in a hoarse, almost despairing voice, he spoke.
“All right… I’ll talk.”
“I’ll say everything.”
He no longer struggled, allowing himself to be restrained in that humiliating yet intimate position by Astreia, and quietly began to recount, in detail, every absurd event of the past two days.
It started with the undercurrents at that fateful dinner.
Laxana’s suspicions through the “empathy” link.
The war under the table triggered by fishnet stockings and thigh-high leather boots.
The sudden visit of General Sera, and the three of them staging a harrowing drama of false hardship.
And then this morning, after savoring the Victory Fruit, those two insane women’s unchecked rivalry and provocation…
Wendy spoke calmly, without embellishment or excuses, like a student confessing his wrongdoings.
He had thought that the more he spoke, the more likely Astreia would tighten her grip again, finishing him for good.
Or perhaps she would erupt in fury, transforming into a witch and flattening the entire palace.
But—nothing happened.
Behind him, there was only silence from beginning to end.
Other than the steady sound of breathing, there was no movement at all.
“…That’s how it went.”
Wendy finished the final sentence, closing his eyes in resignation to await the ultimate judgment.
One second.
Two seconds.
Three seconds…
The endless silence was more terrifying than any rage.
What’s… happening?
A sense of foreboding crept over Wendy’s heart.
He wanted to look back, but his neck remained locked, unable to move.
And in the place he could not see—
Behind him, the scorching body pressed to his own was undergoing some strange, hidden transformation.
Astreia’s face was devoid of expression.
No anger.
No jealousy.
No sadness.
Only her once-clear, emerald starry eyes had—at some unknown moment—shed all their color, replaced by a bewitching, deep violet.
Within that purple abyss, countless vortices seemed to swirl madly, reflecting Wendy’s defenseless, fragile profile.
That gaze brimmed with sickly obsession and the ultimate thrill of finally capturing her prey!
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