Chapter 12
Chapter 12
The balcony in the corner of the ballroom was designed for nobles to have private conversations away from the crowd.
Inside, it was far too noisy.
Dozens, even hundreds, of nobles laughing, talking, and clinking glasses made it impossible to have a serious discussion.
But the balcony was different.
Thick curtains filtered out much of the noise, and the cool night air outside cooled the heat inside.
If two people leaned in close and whispered, no one nearby could overhear.
In short, it was the perfect place for secret conversations.
As soon as Luang arrived at the balcony, he turned and leaned against the railing.
The moonlight brushed across the side of his face.
A jawline carved with precision.
Skin revealed under the loosened collar of his shirt.
Even appearing relaxed, his posture was flawless.
Angela couldn’t help but stare, momentarily lost.
‘Did I just… drool?’
Her hand unconsciously went to her mouth, but fortunately, it hadn’t.
It was dangerously close.
“Do you understand your situation right now?”
“Huh? My… situation?”
The question was too broad.
Her family situation? Her position? Or what had just happened in the ballroom?
Angela blinked vacantly, and Luang raised his eyebrow slightly.
“Hmm. You don’t seem to realize how serious this is.”
“Ahaha… I-I’m not sure what you mean…”
Her laugh escaped awkwardly. Nobles in situations like this would usually smile politely or sip wine, not laugh out loud alone with someone.
A different noble might have been offended, but Angela was simply dumbfounded, so Luang let it pass.
“You know this is my brother’s ballroom, right?”
“Yes, of course.”
“And yet you didn’t go greet him?”
“Uh…”
Angela finally realized the mistake she had made.
Even at a birthday party, one first greets the host. And here, it was a prince’s ballroom. Naturally, she should have greeted the host first.
She hadn’t.
A fundamental rule.
‘I’m doomed…’
The first person that came to mind was her father.
‘He’s going to scold me so much when I get home.’
Next was Bianca.
‘Bianca was right to be upset. I was in the wrong.’
Bianca had scolded Angela, yet had not mocked her or insulted her openly.
Instead, she had tried to explain. Tried to help her understand.
Angela felt guilty.
She had only gotten in trouble because someone had cared enough to tell her she was wrong.
‘I’ll apologize later.’
Snap.
A finger snapped, and Angela was suddenly pulled back to the present.
“What are you thinking about?”
“Just… thinking,” she admitted.
“Hmph. Fine. Since you were honest, I’ll forgive you.”
Luang spoke tiredly, yet there was no trace of mockery in his tone.
Then he continued.
“From now on, you will be treated as my concubine.”
“…Wha—?”
Angela’s eyes widened.
A concubine. Not an official wife, but effectively a lover.
In noble society, a very subtle, very troublesome, and very unpleasant designation.
Why was that suddenly directed at her?
“I didn’t want this. You brought it upon yourself.”
“Huh? I’m not a concubine!”
Angela shouted almost reflexively.
In this world, monogamy was standard due to religion. Nobles arranged political marriages, and true love was found outside the official marriage.
But a concubine was different.
Brought into a house without a wedding, given minor inheritance rights for children, but always under the authority of the official wife.
Low status. No dignity. Could be abandoned at a whim.
Of course, she refused.
“Why? Why am I a concubine?!”
“It’s amazing that you don’t even realize it.”
Leaning against the railing, Luang slowly looked down at her.
“Think about what I just asked you.”
“Huh? Um… why I didn’t greet Prince Manuel…”
“Exactly. That’s why.”
Luang regarded Angela as if she were some strange creature.
Most people would avoid him. Like avoiding a rabid dog to not get bitten.
But Angela was different.
She was scared, but she didn’t run away.
Instead, she quibbled in front of him like a feisty little puppy.
“From others’ perspective, your coming to greet me while ignoring Prince Manuel can be interpreted in three ways.”
He held up three fingers.
“First: The Goldrun family wants to join my faction.”
“Huh? But my father didn’t say anything about that…”
“Yes. That was the most likely, but we can rule it out.”
One finger went down.
“Second: A scheme from another faction.”
“Uh…”
“There are many royals besides Manuel. Some hope my brother and I keep clashing.”
Luang added casually,
“Of course, they wouldn’t use a child like you to infiltrate.”
“Why? What do I have to do with that?”
“To manipulate others, you need weight. Someone whose words carry enough influence. A young lady like Bianca Rascache could manage that, but Goldrun does not yet have that kind of influence.”
It wasn’t about Angela personally, but her family’s status.
Factional manipulation in noble society relies on power, not emotions.
Territory, military strength, long-standing reputation—these make words cause ripples.
The second finger went down.
Only the last one remained.
Luang looked at it and said,
“The third reason is that you have a thing for me.”
“Huh?”
“Love makes people act foolishly. That explains your strange behavior perfectly.”
“Wh-what?!”
Angela’s face instantly flushed.
Yes, she liked him.
He was handsome. The story’s protagonist. Fascinating. Eye-catching. Her type.
But was that love?
‘…Not exactly…’
“Th-that… th-that… th-that…”
“That?”
“It’s… a misunderstanding!”
“Yes, it could be a misunderstanding.”
“No, I really mean it! It’s a misunderstanding!!!”
Angela shouted so loudly it could have echoed across the balcony.
In her fluster, she pressed herself against Luang, losing her balance and leaning on him.
And her hand touched him.
Firm. Solid. Not over fabric.
Skin exposed beneath the loosened collar. Warm, strong, perfectly sculpted abs.
“…Uh…”
Angela froze.
Her gaze went to her hand. Then to where it touched. Then back to her hand.
‘…What did I just touch?’
The brain of someone touching perfect abs for the first time shuts down far more easily than one expects.
“Kyah…!!! Uh?!”
Just before she could scream, Luang’s hand covered her mouth.
“If you really want to be a pervert, screaming is fine, though.”
Angela opened her eyes wide, glaring at him.
Or tried to.
Her eyes couldn’t focus properly because of the warmth of his hand so close to her face.
With his other hand, Luang subtly pointed.
“Look over there.”
“Uh…?”
Angela followed his gesture.
All the nobles whispering on the balcony were staring at them.
Even if curtains blocked the noise, if someone suddenly made a sound, all eyes naturally turn.
Two people struggling in close contact, with a young lady’s hand on a prince…
It looked suspicious to anyone.
Angela’s face instantly turned crimson.
Luang nonchalantly removed his hand from her mouth.
“Now there will be rumors about the strange things you did on the balcony.”
“R-really…?”
“Remember Bianca poked you as soon as your mistake was visible? Did you already forget that?”
“That was my fault…”
“Yes. In this society, if someone errs, others are the first to jab.”
Luang pressed his fingers to his forehead in exasperation.
Seeing that, Angela remembered something.
In the novel, Luang was tired of political games.
If he could escape, he would.
Someone like him wouldn’t care about rumors, etiquette, interpretation, and scrutiny.
“Uh, so… am I now considered the prince’s concubine?”
“Did you want to be a concubine?”
Luang asked incredulously.
Angela closed her mouth.
Imagine confessing to a handsome guy at school, only to have him say, “I already have a lover.”
And then imagine responding, “Even second place is fine.”
It would be mortifying.
Angela, being a normal girl, wasn’t ready to handle that kind of shame.
“So what should I do from now on?”
“That’s for your family head to decide. Why are you asking me?”
He was right.
Noble affairs are ultimately determined by the heads of the household.
If he truly wanted her as a concubine, steps would be taken: sending her attendants, keeping her close, giving favors, eventually placing her in the same bed.
Angela imagined all of that.
Her face turned even redder.
“But my father has given me quite a bit of authority.”
“Supporting someone politically or choosing a marriage partner isn’t included in that authority.”
Political support and marriage were the noblest of cards.
A single misstep could destabilize the family foundation.
As long as the emperor lived, supporting Luang as a successor wouldn’t immediately flip the world, but relations with other factions could sour in an instant.
“So what exactly do you want to discuss?”
Luang looked at Angela with interest.
She seemed like a Korean transmigrator of the first tier.
Saving Bianca showed her acted on a sense of justice rather than ulterior motives.
Her political calculations were crude, yet she was unusually honest.
For a mind shattered like Luang’s, such people were rare.
Family untrustworthy, vassals absent, all around approached with ulterior motives.
Yet someone so naively honest?
Better to keep her nearby.
“So, if we meet occasionally… if nothing happens, won’t people lose interest?”
“Hmm…”
Luang thought for a moment.
This world was dopamine-deficient, so rumors thrived.
If three people slipped in a mansion, the cause might be a poorly placed rug, but rumors would say the house was cursed.
In such a world, if a young lady staged that scene on the balcony and continued to be involved with him,
people would talk.
“Just ask your family head.”
“Ahaha… yes…”
She didn’t get permission, but Angela wasn’t ready to give up.
Honestly, she didn’t want to miss opportunities to interact with the story’s protagonist.
Being near him meant she could observe other protagonists too.
And maybe, if lucky, witness some romantic developments firsthand.
Even if she was currently in danger of concubine rumors.
Still.
‘I just can’t give up… he’s too handsome.’