While the Aurora sisters were raising their glasses in laughter and affection, basking in the warmth of sisterhood, Prince Daniel—thrust into the center of this political marriage—was curled up on a golden brocade couch, his brows tightly furrowed. Every now and then, a chill lingering from the magic array would jolt him into a sneeze.

  Daniel’s slender fingers absentmindedly traced the gilded carvings on the armrest as Frannie’s image repeatedly surfaced in his mind.

  To be fair, the demon princess’s appearance was indeed striking. Her blood-red hair cascaded wildly down her back like a crimson silk curtain.

  Her violet eyes were deep and alluring, brimming with mystery. Her figure, full and well-defined, exuded an unmistakable succubus charm with every movement—far beyond what Daniel had imagined of demonkind.

  And yet, the moment he recalled the countless rumors surrounding Frannie, any flicker of hesitation sparked by her beauty vanished in an instant.

  In noble circles, a sharp tongue and cold demeanor in a woman were not uncommon, especially for a princess—being aloof came with the title.

  The fact that she wasn't a virgin… considering the demons' liberal view on love and the innate allure of succubi, Daniel could almost understand.

  After all, expecting a marriageable succubus princess to remain pure might be asking too much.

  But her terrible reputation, unpredictable temper, and a long list of bizarre habits—these fatal flaws made it impossible for Daniel to accept the marriage.

  "A princess, huh? Well, I’m a prince too!" Daniel suddenly shot to his feet, the ornate soles of his shoes landing with a dull thud on the carpet.

  "Royal blood doesn’t make you nobler than me! Our titles are just hand-me-downs from our parents—nothing earned. What’s there to brag about?" He paced back and forth in the chamber, his brocade robe sweeping the air in sync with his turmoil.

  Yet the marriage was set. It was his father’s command and a political arrangement that concerned the alliance between the Elven Empire and the Demon Realm. Daniel knew full well that in this power game, he was nothing more than a dispensable pawn.

  But he refused to be sacrificed so easily. He had to find a way out.

  Gradually, he forced himself to calm down. He sat back down on the couch and began analyzing the situation rationally.

  First, he dismissed the seemingly reasonable but utterly hopeless path—trying to reason with his father. High elves were famously stubborn, and his father was one of the worst. He’d never entertain a plea for understanding, especially not when empire interests were at stake.

  Even if his father did listen, who would turn down a powerful ally in exchange for just one prince? No one cared what the third prince thought.

  So if logic wouldn’t work, he needed another plan. After racking his brain, Daniel landed on the only feasible option—run away from the wedding.

  But that was easier said than done. The continent of Lundberg, home to the Elven Empire, was like a massive cage. Surrounded by endless void and raging magical storms, the ways to leave were few and heavily guarded.

  The Nochima Line, a fortress defense against external threats, was manned by legions and utterly impenetrable—no hope of slipping past.

  Even if the hundreds of thousands stationed at the Fortress of Valencia somehow turned a blind eye, Daniel wouldn’t dare set foot in the Orc Empire. That land was notorious for its danger and savagery—entering it would be a death sentence.

  Rubbing his throbbing temples, Daniel realized that he couldn’t do this alone. He needed allies. But first, he had to face an important question—should he escape alone, or bring someone with him?

  Since the betrothal with the Demon Princess, Orlanis had treated him with measured warmth. She wasn’t overly enthusiastic, but the flickers of care in her gaze stirred ripples in Daniel’s heart.

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  They had once been engaged. It made sense that Orlanis saw him differently. And as time passed, Daniel could feel their relationship slowly warming.

  “Maybe… she really does like me?” he muttered, tugging unconsciously at the hem of his robe. He decided to talk to Orlanis. After all, this wasn’t just his decision—he owed her a say in it too.

  Besides, he believed Orlanis wouldn’t betray him, wouldn’t turn him in. One more ally meant one more chance. That mysterious confidence—she likes me—was like a faint light in the darkness, guiding his thoughts.

  Other than Orlanis, the only person Daniel could turn to was High Priestess Solanmar. That kindly old woman always exuded a motherly warmth he sorely missed.

  Unlike his birth mother—who, despite her affection, always kept a polite distance—Solanmar made him feel truly seen, like family.

  As for his second brother, Rodri—once his most trusted confidant—Daniel dared not involve him. He knew his brother too well. For Rodri, the Empire came before everything.

  As a rigid soldier, Rodri would even sacrifice his own happiness—he had once married an underworld dwarf for diplomacy’s sake. Telling Rodri about his escape plan would likely result in Daniel being arrested as a traitor.

  After much contemplation, Daniel made a temporary decision—to act. He had to appear as though he was gradually accepting his fate.

  If his attitude changed too suddenly, it would raise suspicions. But if he kept resisting, his father would only tighten surveillance, making it even harder to escape the marriage.

  There were still about three months left before the wedding. These three months were critical, and Daniel set two goals for himself.

  The first was cultivation. In a world where the strong preyed on the weak, power was the foundation of survival. Only by continually improving his magical skills and combat prowess could he stand a chance of protecting himself on the road to fleeing the marriage.

  The second was to make everyone believe he had given in to his fate.

  But acting convincingly—without being seen through—was no easy feat. As the saying goes, "If you act too long, you'll slip up." Daniel knew there was only one way to ensure his performance remained flawless: brainwashing himself.

  Only by deceiving himself could he deceive others.

  Taking a deep breath, Daniel snapped his fingers, and the magical lamp by the bed went out. The soft velvet bedding, carrying the warmth of sunlight and the faint fragrance left by the maids, wrapped around him like a cocoon.

  Yet despite all that, he tossed and turned, unable to sleep. Plans for what lay ahead kept running through his mind.

  ......

  The next morning, as dawn broke, golden sunlight bathed the streets and alleys of Plantagenet Castle. The residents saw a version of the Third Prince they had never seen before.

  Daniel looked pale, with bloodshot eyes and a haggard expression that made him seem ten years older overnight. He dragged his feet along the street, ignoring the greetings from passersby. His eyes were empty and dazed.

  “What’s wrong with His Highness today?” a slightly chubby elf named Kuras asked, staring in confusion at Daniel’s retreating figure.

  An older, skinny elf quickly pulled Kuras aside, glanced around warily, and whispered, “The engagement.”

  Kuras furrowed his brow. “But I thought His Highness was engaged to the High Elder’s daughter, Lady Orlanis. Isn’t she the one they call the White Rose of the capital? She’s stunning. What’s there to be unhappy about?”

  The old elf snorted through his nose and gave Kuras a disdainful look. “Kuras, have you been buried in training so long that you’ve lost track of the news? I’ve got the latest update—His Majesty has arranged a new engagement for the Third Prince. The bride is none other than Princess Frannie of the Demon Race.”

  “A princess as his bride? That’s a good thing, isn’t it? Why the long face?” Kuras scratched his silver hair, completely puzzled.

  The old elf looked around once more to make sure no one was eavesdropping, then pulled Kuras into a quiet corner by the roadside. Leaning in close, he began to whisper in his ear.

  As the old elf spoke, Kuras’s expression shifted from confusion to realization. Slowly, a sympathetic smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

  “I really do feel a little sorry for His Highness… That kind of princess is truly… one of a kind.” Kuras chuckled and shook his head.

  The old elf joined in with a gloating grin. “By the Moon Goddess… His Highness is a once-in-a-century genius of our people. Who knows if this will mess up his cultivation progress?”

  “Oh, come on,” Kuras said dismissively. “Worst case, they get married and go their separate ways. As long as everyone minds their own business, what’s the harm?”

  “But the succubus clan is born with seductive charm. Who knows how many secret lovers the princess will collect in her chambers?”

  The old elf glanced at the dreamy look in Kuras’s eyes and sneered inwardly. This Kuras is always lustful but never sees himself clearly. Even if the demon princess wanted lovers, she’d never pick someone like him.