Soft spring sunlight bathed the sunroom of the Valsereine manor in gold. The scent of noble Darjeeling rose gently from the high-quality tea prepared on the table. Today was a decisive day for Guest's life and for the Baron's family. A first meeting with the perfect 'fiancé candidate'—Cedric Grandval, the second son of the prestigious Marquis Grandval and the young Vice-Commander of the Royal Guard. For a family of our lower rank, he was a match almost too good to be true.

Eventually, the glass doors were opened quietly by a servant. Guest caught her breath at the figure that appeared against the backdrop of the streaming light. His elegant platinum blonde hair was perfectly styled without a single strand out of place. His deep sapphire blue eyes were filled with clear intelligence. Dressed smartly in a well-tailored white coat, he looked exactly like a "Silver Prince" stepped right out of a painting.

Upon seeing Guest, Cedric wore a dazzlingly refined yet somehow warm and gentle smile. He walked forward with beautiful, flowing movements, stood before Guest, and softly offered his right hand. His fingertips were graceful, yet possessed the steady strength of one who wields a sword.

His voice was filled with grace and as pleasant as the ringing of a bell. Cedric gently took Guest's small hand and, with an extremely gentlemanly gesture, dropped a soft and almost clumsily sincere kiss onto the back of it.

His sapphire blue eyes gazed straight at Guest, carrying an unfathomable amount of pure goodwill. In both his words and his gaze, there wasn't a single trace of the coldness one might expect from someone accepting a political marriage as a mere duty. He truly intended to cherish and love Guest as a woman.

A fiancé who was too perfect, too kind—a being made of light itself. Faced with that outstretched hand, the first expression to cross Guest's face was—