Chapter 481: The Problem at Hand

“Did you have fun in the Holy City, Mr. Muen Campbell?”

Under the bright lights of the bathroom, Celicia’s jade-white skin looked almost translucent. Amid the forest of lashes dusted with silver frost, those ice-blue, crystalline eyes did not show the slightest ripple of emotion, like flawless ice that had not melted for ten thousand years.

Her tone, her expression, even the cold look in her eyes—none of it differed in any way from the Imperial Third Princess Muen knew, the Ice Witch admired by countless people. There was no special emotion he could read at all. But for some reason, Muen inexplicably felt a chill rising for no apparent reason.

Was the bathwater too cold?

Muen shivered and forced out a handsome smile.

“W–what do you mean, fun or not fun? Celicia, aren’t you misunderstanding something? I didn’t go to have fun, I went to take care of business!”

“Business? Indeed, the Saintess Ceremony can be considered business. But why is it that the people who accompanied you to handle that business all returned half a month earlier?

By the way... I heard you came back together with Anna Kaplin?”

Celicia’s eyebrows rose slightly.

“It seems you had a pleasant journey with her.”

“You can eat whatever you like, but you can’t say whatever you like!”

Muen widened his eyes and touched his nose—only to realize something felt wrong. He remembered he was still wearing Bruce’s face, so he hurriedly tore off that precious human-skin mask. His joints cracked as he moved his body back to its normal shape.

Muen continued to show a handsome smile that would make an ordinary young girl blush and skip a heartbeat, explaining:

“Celicia, you’re misunderstanding. Senior and I were dealing with work! I stayed the extra half-month in the Holy City purely for the Empire’s interests. The entire time it was only work, no emotions! I swear to the Goddess, if I’m lying, then my most respected teacher will forever remain one meter and twenty—”

“Is that so?”

Celicia still showed no expression. He couldn’t tell whether she believed him or not.

“Then... can you explain why you broke into a maiden’s bathroom in the middle of the night?”

Muen’s smile froze.

He slowly turned his head. At his side, Veil—who had clearly been watching the show a moment ago—instantly changed her face like a performer, squeezing out a few pitiful tears:

“Wuwuwu... President, you have to stand up for me. I don’t even have a boyfriend yet, and this pervert saw everything. I won’t be able to get married now.”

“......”

Lies meant for ghosts!

Before I came in, you’d already put all your clothes back on!

I didn’t see anything!

Muen glared viciously in protest, but all he got was Veil’s schadenfreude-filled grimace.

“It’s a misunderstanding...”

Muen couldn’t explain himself at all and could only hang his head like a dead salted fish.

“I infiltrated tonight because I heard Celicia you were under house arrest, so I—”

“You were worried about me?”

Celicia suddenly asked.

“Uh...”

Muen froze. He looked into Celicia’s icy, unreadable eyes and cautiously said:

“Y-yeah... I really was worried about you— ow ow ow!”

Before he could finish, the soft little foot pressing on his chest suddenly increased force...

Everyone, let me clarify something first.

I am not a pervert.

Even though this foot was very cute and soft, and the toes wrapped in black stockings looked like little works of art that made one instinctively want to hold them tightly and carefully play with them—

I am not a pervert.

Being stepped on like this only caused a tiny bit of pleasure.

That’s right—only a little.

“Enough.”

Just as Muen was struggling between pain and pleasure, even secretly hoping that, by the girl’s movement, he might catch a glimpse of something more mysterious, Celicia suddenly withdrew her foot.

She turned around, and he couldn’t see her expression. She casually tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

“As for what happened in the Holy City, we’ll talk about it later. Come with me first.”

“......”

That’s it? She’s letting me go just like that?

Muen blinked in disbelief, instinctively suspecting this was some sort of trap.

The moment he left the bathroom, Celicia would shatter a cup as a signal, and hundreds of Royal Knights would rush in to chop him into perfectly even mince...

“I said...”

Celicia turned back again, her cold gaze landing on Muen.

“Come with me.”

“Coming!”

Muen jumped up instantly and followed behind Celicia like an obedient puppy.

Veil shot him a disdainful look. Muen pretended not to see it.

Everyone, this is not cowardice.

This is the basic virtue of a true gentleman—knowing when to bend, when to endure, and yielding to a lady with grace.

......

Following Celicia out, Muen discovered that her room was actually next door.

It was simply that he had no way to distinguish it earlier—and no time to check—so he entered the wrong one.

“Your Highness.”

Outside in the courtyard, the knights’ voices came:

“Is something the matter? We heard strange noises just now.”

“It’s nothing. Veil slipped in the bathroom. Hold your posts.”

“Understood.”

The knights once again melted into the darkness, faithfully carrying out their duties.

Celicia, however, led Muen—a full-grown man—into her room in the middle of the night.

The moment he entered, Muen curiously looked around. The room’s style was completely different from Veil’s. There were almost no decorations at all. It didn’t look like a place where an imperial princess lived. Everything carried an air of simplicity.

The most noticeable thing was the desk. Several books were placed on it at random, one even lying open face-down. It seemed that before his infiltration, Celicia had been quietly reading there.

“It’s so late, and you’re still working so hard.”

“I’m not like a certain playboy who wastes his time on frivolous affairs.”

Celicia turned to pour water.

“......”

“Here.”

Celicia placed a steaming cup of coffee on the table in front of Muen. She poured a cup for herself as well, and was now adding cube after cube of sugar into the rich black coffee.

One piece after another. The sweetness would probably be frightening.

“This... black coffee in the middle of the night?”

“...You won’t drink it?”

Celicia stopped stirring and raised her head, staring quietly at Muen.

“I’ll drink it! I’ll drink it!”

Muen hurriedly tipped back half the cup in one go. The rich, bitter aroma made him feel noticeably more awake, and the heat warmed his slightly chilled body.

After finishing the coffee, Muen sat across from Celicia again, glancing around.

“This place looks... more than I imagined...”

“What? You think I should be sitting in a pitch-black prison cell right now, helplessly waiting for Young Master Campbell to come save me?”

“No... of course not.”

Muen gave an awkward smile.

“I only heard you were ordered confined by His Majesty, so I thought—”

“It’s only house arrest.”

Celicia’s movements were elegant as she sipped her coffee.

Perhaps the huge amount of sugar satisfied her, because her icy expression softened just /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ slightly.

“No matter what, I am still the Empire’s Third Princess. As long as Father still acknowledges me as his daughter, who could possibly do anything to me?”

“That’s true...”

Muen scratched his cheek, suddenly unsure what to say.

“If you have questions, ask them now. I can’t let you stay until morning.”

Celicia lifted her head. Her cold eyes looked at Muen, revealing a rare trace of meaning.

“After all, breaking into a princess’s residence and barging into a maiden’s bathroom—those are serious crimes. I don’t want the next time I see my fiancé to be through prison bars.”

“......”

Too much.

It was just a little accident, does she have to rub it in this long?

Muen grumbled a few times inwardly, then took a deep breath, straightened his back, and met the girl’s eyes.

“I want to ask... about Belrand’s current situation...”

“You don’t know?”

Celicia shot back:

“Doesn’t the Ducal House have its own intelligence channels?”

“Their information is too messy. It’s impossible to organize them into a coherent line.”

Muen shook his head.

“If you’re not in the center of the storm, it’s really hard to see the source yourself. So I could only come and ask you, Celicia. You’re one of the people closest to the Empire’s power core—surely you understand the problem better than anyone.”

“Indeed, I understand very well.”

Celicia nodded.

“There are many issues right now. The forces involved are numerous, and everything looks chaotic. But in truth, there is only one real problem...”

Celicia paused for a moment, then suddenly said each word clearly:

“Father... is failing.”

“What?”

The instant he grasped the explosive weight of that information, Muen’s pupils contracted sharply.

“But the news I received only said he was gravely ill...”

“To the outside world, we can only say ‘gravely ill.’ What do you think the truth would be?”

Celicia asked without the slightest emotional fluctuation. Muen studied her perfect, beautiful face, but could not read any emotion from it.

“I see... so His Majesty being in such a critical state is the reason why certain people who normally wouldn’t even dare show their faces are starting to harbor thoughts they shouldn’t.”

Muen rubbed his temples in frustration.

Things were even more troublesome and severe than he had imagined.

If something truly happened to His Majesty and a temporary vacuum of imperial authority occurred, then the royal faction would naturally fall behind in this conflict.

“Damn it. When I last saw His Majesty, he was still so healthy. Why?”

Muen recalled the tall, imposing figure he had bowed to before. It simply didn’t match someone who would be critically ill mere months later.

“That’s not all.”

“What?”

“I said, that’s not all.”

Celicia set down her cup of coffee and let out a rare, light sigh.

“The true source of the storm brewing in Belrand is actually... the struggle over that position.”

“You mean... the succession to the throne?”

Muen frowned.

“That makes sense. If His Majesty really... then the successor would indeed become an issue... Wait, no!”

Muen suddenly realized something.

“Why would that be a problem?”

The current emperor had only three children.

The First Prince, Albert Leopold — born with a congenital brain disorder and now possessing the intellect of a child.

The Second Prince, Andrew Leopold — perfectly normal, hailed as the destined successor.

And the Third Princess, Celicia Leopold — female.

With these three, the successor to the throne was obvious. In fact, everyone in the Empire had already taken the Second Prince as the next emperor.

But why...

“Originally, it wasn’t a problem.”

Celicia looked toward the window—the direction of the palace—and spoke in a soft tone.

“But when my dear elder brother Albert suddenly had his brain disorder miraculously cured not long ago... that problem became enormous.”