Chapter 9
Chapter 9
The Side Next to the Main Character Is Always Exciting
Angela arrived at the banquet hall hosted by Prince Manuel.
But once she got there, she found herself unable to approach anyone.
In a modern school, it would have been different. Even on the first day, if everyone seemed to be in a similar situation, you could awkwardly smile and strike up a conversation.
But this was a noble social gathering in a romance fantasy.
Everyone here was a noble, and Angela had never received proper noble education.
The dress she wore, the glass she held, even where to look and how to smile—all of it felt awkward.
Amid that discomfort, there was only one thing familiar to her.
Luang.
The obsessive male lead from the novel’s cover.
The mad prince.
And the man she had wanted to see in person ever since she entered this world.
“Wow… it’s really him…”
Angela held her breath without realizing it.
Since arriving in this world, she had seen many young nobles of the capital. She had often been struck by how dazzlingly perfect their appearances were, and it had reinforced that this world truly was a romance fantasy.
But Luang was different.
He didn’t stand out merely because he was handsome; that was common enough in the capital.
Luang had a dangerous aura layered over that handsomeness.
If he were any less striking, he might have seemed like a foul-tempered delinquent.
Yet his face and demeanor turned even that impression into an unusual charm.
Right now, he resembled a beast more than a troublemaker.
If he were just a delinquent, he would have been crude and undignified. But Luang commanded the room like a lion, relaxed yet dominant, bending the surrounding air to him.
Dangerous, yet impossibly captivating.
She even felt the urge to step closer, to enter that danger directly.
“If it’s a man like that… being devoured wouldn’t be so bad, would it?”
Angela mentally scolded herself at the thought.
The problem wasn’t just his face.
“Wait, sitting there dressed like that? Doesn’t he feel embarrassed?”
She had grown somewhat accustomed to handsome nobles. That was no longer shocking.
But his attire was another story.
All the other nobles were dressed in layers of fine fabrics, jewels, intricate embroidery, and perfectly tailored sleeves. Every gesture, every step, exuded refined training.
Among them, even Angela felt her shoulders tense.
Yet Luang seemed to belong to a different genre entirely.
His tunic was nearly unfastened, and he lounged on the sofa, chest and abs exposed in an almost brazen display.
He didn’t need to move a muscle—the entire room seemed drawn toward him.
Who would dare approach him first? Who would ask him to dance?
But just because no one dared approach didn’t mean no one was looking.
“Is… is this some kind of shameless outfit?”
“Ahem… but I’ve never seen muscles like that either.”
“I heard he sparred with knights, and now I see it’s true.”
“I wonder what it would feel like to… ah, never mind.”
“Crazy outfit, yet somehow it suits him.”
“I try to look away, but my eyes keep drifting back.”
“Approaching him would be social suicide, right?”
“…Still, I’d like to see him up close at least once.”
The young noblewomen whispered among themselves, unable to avert their gaze.
It wasn’t just his attire.
Even though there were five forks on the table, he picked up one casually and ate, utterly unconcerned with etiquette.
Yet that nonchalance drew even more attention.
Angela swallowed hard.
Seeing a character from a novel breathe and move in real life made the last remnants of her rationality snap.
If she missed this opportunity, it might never come again.
According to her knowledge, Luang rarely left the palace. The emperor didn’t allow it.
Why he was here tonight, she didn’t know—but the chance was there.
She moved toward him, entranced.
“Wh-what…!”
“Milady, where are you going?”
“You’re not really heading that way, are you?”
The surrounding crowd stirred, but Angela didn’t stop.
Her mind had gone elsewhere. The other nobles faded into a blurry background; only Luang remained vivid.
“Father… I’m sorry. Just this once.”
Her feeling was exactly like that: the way someone would dash off to a favorite fan meeting despite an important exam looming.
She had once thought such friends were ridiculous, but now that she was in that position, she understood completely.
The attendant hurriedly tried to stop her, but it was too late.
Angela stood before Luang.
“Ah, hello!”
“Yes, greetings.”
“I’m Angela Goldrun, Your Highness.”
“I see. A spirited young lady, Angela Goldrun. Is there a reason you came to me?”
Hearing his voice made the fine hairs on her arms stand on end.
“Wow… his voice is really like this.”
She had imagined it rough and sharp, expecting the tone of someone who had once rampaged violently.
But Luang’s actual voice was the opposite: low, restrained, and brushing the floor with a slow, smooth resonance.
A mixture of metallic roughness and deep, settled bass gave it a peculiar charm.
Her heart raced, though it was more the astonishment of seeing a celebrity in person than romance.
“Huh? He’s actually talking normally.”
Angela blinked, momentarily wondering if he had already met the heroine.
In romance fantasies, the wounded male lead is slowly restored by the kind and understanding heroine. It was such a cliché it barely felt original.
If Luang were truly mad, the palace would never have let him attend this banquet—he could have caused a scene.
But he was coherent, listening and responding to conversation.
Angela naturally assumed he had already met the heroine.
“Then the fiancée… the villainess should appear soon, right? Why isn’t she here yet?”
Her curiosity bubbled, but she couldn’t voice it.
This was a rare, short window for interaction, like winning a VIP fan meet. A wrong question could ruin the opportunity.
Besides, even if he seemed calm, Luang’s madness might still lurk beneath the surface. Any misstep could provoke chaos.
So Angela carefully chose her words, keeping them safe and polite.
“I came to greet Your Highness upon seeing you at the banquet.”
“I see? So you wished to see my face for yourself?”
Unexpectedly, Luang’s expression was calm—not mocking, not guarded.
The composure made Angela even more excited.
The conversation flowed easily. Perhaps she could say a little more.
“How do I seem after seeing me in person?”
“You are very handsome.”
“…Indeed.”
It was pure honesty.
What’s wrong with telling a handsome person they are handsome?
But Luang didn’t reply immediately. Instead, he quietly studied her face.
Not looking away, staring straight at her.
It felt like he was peering into her very soul.
Her face instantly heated.
Angela hurriedly covered her mouth with her hand.
It was her first time locking eyes with such a handsome man.
She was thrilled, yet utterly embarrassed to reveal her flushed face so openly.
Still, she didn’t retreat.
This might be their only chance.
“Ah, th-that's…!”
At that moment, the attendant whispered urgently beside her.
“Milady, you mustn’t be so direct in your words!”
She realized the truth.
Nobles generally preferred indirect speech. Even compliments were circled in elaborate phrasing—praising like “as radiant as a rose” or “a face specially crafted by the gods.”
But Angela had simply said he was handsome.
Too straightforward. Some might consider it rude.
Realizing this, she quickly bowed.
“Forgive me!”
“No need. Compliments are rare for me. Your words are far more pleasing.”
“Eh? R-really?”
Angela blinked, stunned.
In the original story, only the heroine constantly offered Luang positive reinforcement.
It was basic sense in modern psychology that empathy comes before criticism when someone is broken.
And apparently, few had ever complimented him.
“Ah… could it be that I’m the first one aside from the heroine?”
Her head went blank briefly, but Angela quickly refocused.
Now was not the time to analyze the story.
“A-are you feeling well, Your Highness?”
“Tired… yes. I am tired.”
According to romance fantasy conventions, male leads usually struggle between the villainess and the heroine.
Should he follow a politically arranged engagement, or forsake duty for love? And if the villainess crosses the line, only then do the male and female leads gain justification to push her aside.
Angela assumed this must be why Luang seemed troubled.
Of course, that wasn’t the real reason.
He was struggling because he didn’t have a phone.