Chapter 9
Chapter 9
The Area Around the Protagonist Is Always Exciting
Angela came to the banquet hosted by Prince Manuel.
But once she actually arrived, she couldn't bring herself to approach anyone.
Things would've been different in a modern school.
Even on the first day, if everyone was just another student in the same situation, she could've smiled awkwardly and started a conversation.
But this was the social scene of a romance fantasy novel.
Everyone gathered here was a noble.
And Angela had never received proper aristocratic education.
The dress she was wearing.
The glass she held in her hand.
Even where she should look and how she should smile.
Everything felt awkward.
In the middle of all that discomfort, there was only one familiar existence for Angela.
Rouang.
The obsessive male lead who appeared on the novel's cover.
The mad prince.
And the man she had wanted to see at least once since arriving in this world.
'Wow... he's real...'
Without realizing it, Angela held her breath.
Since entering this world, she had seen plenty of young nobles in the capital.
And she'd repeatedly been reminded that this really was a romance fantasy world by how absurdly handsome they all were.
But Rouang was different even from them.
He didn't stand out simply because he was handsome.
The capital was already overflowing with handsome nobles.
Rouang possessed something those other men lacked.
Danger.
If he were even slightly less attractive, he would've looked like a violent delinquent with a terrible personality.
But that face and that atmosphere transformed even that impression into something strangely captivating.
The current Rouang felt less like a troublemaker and more like a beast.
A troublemaker would simply be rough and uncultured.
Rouang dominated the air around him with the relaxed confidence of a pride leader.
A dangerous man you couldn't stop looking at.
The kind of person who made you want to step into that danger yourself.
'If it were a man like that... maybe being devoured wouldn't be so bad...'
The moment that thought crossed her mind, Angela wanted to smack herself.
The problem wasn't just his face.
'No, seriously, he's sitting there dressed like that? Isn't he embarrassed?'
She'd already developed some resistance to handsome faces.
A handsome noble no longer shocked her.
His clothing, however, was another matter entirely.
The other nobles in the banquet hall were dressed in layers upon layers of expensive garments.
Costly fabrics.
Jewels.
Delicate embroidery.
Elegantly tailored sleeves.
Every gesture reflected the refinement of proper aristocratic education.
Even Angela found herself unconsciously shrinking her shoulders among them.
Yet Rouang belonged to a completely different genre.
The ties of his shirt were nearly undone, and he lounged against a sofa with his chest and abdominal muscles exposed far too openly.
He wasn't even doing anything.
Just sitting there.
Yet it felt as though the entire atmosphere of the room leaned toward him.
Who would dare approach someone like that first?
Who would ask him for a dance?
But just because nobody approached him didn't mean nobody was looking.
"I-I've never seen such shameless clothing before."
"Ahem. But... I've never seen muscles like that either."
"I heard rumors he spars with knights, but it's actually true."
"I'd like to touch them once... Ah, never mind."
"Why does that outfit suit him so well when it should look ridiculous?"
"I want to look away, but my eyes keep drifting back."
"Approaching someone like that first would be social suicide, wouldn't it?"
"...Still, it'd be nice to see him up close at least once."
The young ladies whispered among themselves.
Yet their eyes kept returning to him.
It wasn't just his clothing.
There were five forks laid out on the table, but he casually picked whichever one he felt like and ate without concern.
It was impossible to tell whether he didn't know etiquette or simply ignored it.
Strangely enough, that indifference only attracted more attention.
Angela swallowed.
The moment she saw a character from a novel breathing and moving in front of her eyes, the final thread of reason snapped.
It felt like she would never get another opportunity like this.
As far as she knew, Rouang rarely left the Imperial Palace because of his madness.
The Emperor didn't permit it.
She had no idea why he'd appeared today, but an opportunity was still an opportunity.
As though possessed, she began walking toward where Rouang sat.
"L-Lady...!"
"Miss, where are you going?"
"Surely you're not heading over there?"
The surrounding crowd immediately stirred.
Angela didn't stop.
Her mind was already elsewhere.
The nobles around her felt like blurry background scenery.
Only Rouang remained clear.
'Father... I'm sorry. Just this once.'
The feeling was simple.
Like someone who had an important exam tomorrow but ran off to attend a fan meeting with their favorite celebrity.
She used to think people like that were ridiculous.
Now she understood them completely.
Her attendant hurried after her, trying to stop her.
Too late.
Angela stopped in front of Rouang.
"H-Hello!"
"Yes, hello."
"My name is Angela Goldrun, Your Highness."
"I see. A spirited young lady, Angela Goldrun. Did you come looking for me for a reason?"
The moment she heard Rouang's voice, every hair on Angela's body stood on end.
'Wow... so this is what he actually sounds like.'
Because of the setting that described him rampaging in madness while screaming like a lunatic, she'd vaguely imagined a rough, sharp voice.
The reality was the exact opposite.
Low.
Suppressed.
Slowly rumbling along the ground.
A strange mixture of metallic roughness and deep resonance.
His voice alone made her heart race.
Though this felt less like love and more like the shock of seeing a celebrity step out of a movie screen.
'Huh? But he's carrying on a normal conversation.'
Angela blinked.
'Did he already meet the Saintess?'
A wounded male protagonist slowly healing because a kind-hearted heroine understood and comforted him.
That plot was so common in romance fantasy stories that calling it a cliché almost felt redundant.
If Rouang were truly completely insane, the Imperial Family would never allow him to attend a banquet like this.
If he caused an incident, it would be impossible to contain.
Yet the current Rouang was listening to people.
Responding normally.
Holding conversations.
Naturally, Angela concluded that he had already met the Saintess.
'Then shouldn't the fiancée... the villainess... be showing up soon? Why isn't she here?'
She had countless questions.
But she couldn't ask them.
This felt like the brief conversation time awarded to a lucky fan at a celebrity event.
If she asked something weird and ruined the opportunity, she'd regret it forever.
Besides, even if he looked calm, Rouang's madness might still be lurking beneath the surface.
If she touched the wrong nerve, who knew what might happen?
So Angela chose her words as safely and normally as possible.
"I saw that Your Highness attended the banquet, and I wanted to greet you."
"Really? So you wanted to see my face once?"
Unexpectedly, Rouang's expression remained calm.
He wasn't mocking her.
Nor was he openly suspicious.
That composure only made Angela more excited.
The conversation was going much better than expected.
At this rate, she felt she could keep talking a little longer.
"Now that you've seen me, what do you think?"
"You're extremely handsome."
"...I see."
That was one hundred percent sincere.
What was wrong with telling a handsome person they were handsome?
Yet instead of responding immediately, Rouang quietly studied her face.
Without looking away.
A gaze that seemed capable of seeing through everything.
Her face instantly heated up.
Angela hurriedly covered her mouth.
It was the first time she'd maintained eye contact with someone that handsome.
She was happy.
But letting a man clearly see her blushing felt unbearably embarrassing.
Even so, she didn't run away.
This might be the last time they ever met.
"Ah, um...!"
At that moment, the attendant beside her whispered urgently.
"Young miss, you shouldn't be so direct!"
Come to think of it, he was right.
Nobles generally preferred speaking indirectly.
Even when giving compliments, they wrapped them in references to ancient heroes and divine blessings.
At the very least, she should've said something like "as splendid as a rose" or "a face specially crafted by the gods."
Instead, she'd simply said handsome.
It was direct.
Depending on the listener, it might even sound rude.
Realizing that, Angela hurriedly bowed.
"I'm sorry!"
"There's no need. Very few people compliment me. That only makes your words more pleasing to hear."
"Huh? What?"
Angela blinked blankly.
In the original novel, the Saintess constantly offered Rouang affirmation and comfort.
Wasn't it common sense, even in the modern world, that empathy was more effective than criticism when helping someone recover psychologically?
Yet compliments were rare for him?
'Ah... Wait. Could it be that aside from the Saintess, I'm the first person who's complimented him?'
Her thoughts briefly stalled.
Then she pulled herself together.
Now wasn't the time to analyze the novel.
"Um... Your Highness, are you having a difficult time?"
"A difficult time... yes. I am."
According to the laws of romance fantasy, male protagonists usually suffered between the villainess and the heroine.
Should they marry the fiancée chosen through politics?
Or abandon duty and choose love?
And only after the villainess crossed the line would the male lead and heroine gain the justification needed to cast her aside.
'So he's struggling with that sort of problem after all.'
The original story followed clichés so faithfully that Angela's conclusion wasn't unreasonable.
She became firmly convinced that Rouang was agonizing over whom he should marry.
Of course, that wasn't the reason Rouang was suffering at all.
He was suffering because he didn't have a smartphone.