“The Dragon Emperor’s true identity has always been unknown… and if what you say is true, then I suppose it all makes sense. If people found out that the Orelsean Doll Princess was really this, there’d be more than a few who fainted from shock. But why? Why go out of your way to reveal it now?”
“No particular reason. It just seemed Gilbert-sama’s influence alone wasn’t quite enough, so I added a little something extra. Ruffians like you respond better to raw power than to nobility. It’s not about titles—it’s about force. That’s all.”
“…Huh?”
Anyone foolish enough to stand against Gilbert—a royal, the political might of the Orelsean family, and the overwhelming power of the Ice Dragon Emperor—would have to be someone with absolutely nothing to lose. Anyone with a shred of self-preservation wouldn’t even think to challenge them.
Even this man should have known that much. But perhaps that wasn’t what confused him most.
Leticia sighed, clearly bored.
“You’re dense. This is the shop my husband risked his life to protect. As his wife, of course I’d come to his aid. Do I really need a better reason than that? Once word gets out that I’m involved, most wouldn’t dare lay a hand on it.”
“W-Wife…?”
“Hah! I suppose it does sound strange, saying that in this form. Shall I change back, then?”
Another pillar of light rose, and the next moment, the delicate Belle Poupée stood once again where the emperor had been.
There could be no more doubt. Everyone now knew: the Orelsean Doll Princess and the Ice Dragon Emperor were one and the same.
“Now then, as I was saying—originally, I hid my identity because my mother, on behalf of the Orelsean family, tearfully begged me not to ruin my chances of marriage. But now that I have someone who’ll take me, and I’ll be leaving the family, that restriction no longer applies. Isn’t that right, Gilbert-sama?”
“Huh?”
“You’ll marry me, won’t you? My dear husband.”
Clearly not expecting the topic to turn to him, Gilbert flinched and looked at her in disbelief.
“You… you’d want me? Even though I’m… cursed like this?”
“Those eyes of yours are no curse.”
Leticia stepped forward, confirming all the thugs were incapacitated. She stood before Gilbert and lifted his chin, forcing him to meet her gaze. His crimson eyes wavered with confusion—but even that was beautiful.
To call something so breathtaking a curse—it was nothing short of blasphemy.
“I looked into it. Those born with such eyes often struggle to express their emotions. In other words, they don’t know how to rely on others. That’s why they tend to bottle things up. But I intend to accept all of you. You don’t need to hold anything back. Rely on me, as much as you like. I’ll make sure you’re happy.”
“Th-That’s…”
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