The Villainess is my fiance: But she is gentle towards me

After the matter of Edward becoming a disciple was settled, everyone calmed down.

They talked for a while, letting the tension fade from their shoulders.

Edward stayed close to Vivian, still trying to understand that his life had changed in a single evening.

After some time, Esabella stretched her arms a little, like someone bored of standing in one place, and said her goodbyes.

"I'm leaving. I'll see the little one tomorrow," she said, already turning toward the exit.

It was clear she didn't enjoy parties. She never hid it.

She hadn't even attended the big conference earlier, calling it boring without a second thought.

Fancy halls, loud music, endless greetings, none of it mattered to her.

She had only come today because she saw Edward from her research room.

Just one glance was enough.

She wanted him as her disciple, so she came straight here.

That was the type of person she was, direct, confident, and impossible to stop once she made a decision.

Even though she looked like a young woman in her early twenties, she was much, much older.

Old enough to be the same age as Vivian's grandfather.

But she kept her youth with magic.

Once she left, the hall seemed to lighten up again.

The pressure she carried with her slipped out with her footsteps.

Vined and Elena didn't get much time to rest.

Nobles rushed toward them as soon as Esabella disappeared into the crowd.

Some wanted to congratulate them.

Some wanted to ask questions.

Some simply wanted to make connections.

Within minutes, both mother and father were surrounded, smiling and speaking politely, dragged into the busy flow of noble conversations.

Vivian stood a little to the side with Edward, watching their parents get pulled into the social battlefield once again.

The conversation flowed on, soft, light, the kind people used to fill the space after something big had just happened.

Vivian and Edward stood quietly, letting their parents handle the flood of nobles around them.

Then the hall shifted.

A single shout cut through the music and chatter like a blade through cloth.

"His Majesty the Emperor of the Empire, Gray von Indrath!

Her Majesty the Empress, Queen Evelyn von Indrath!

And with them, the Princess Charlotte von Indrath!

First Prince Kaizer von Indrath!

Second Prince Rickkel von Indrath!

Third Prince Zapair von Indrath, are entering!"

Every head in the hall turned.

The air itself seemed to straighten its back.

The guards' voices echoed through the hall, heavy and clear, pulling everyone into silence.

The giant doors at the end of the room swung open, flooding the place with bright light.

The emperor walked in first, tall, steady, a presence that filled the hall without trying.

Beside him, the empress moved with calm grace, her steps smooth and quiet, yet somehow drawing every eye.

Right behind them came the royal children.

The three princes walked in with calm pride, each step steady and practiced.

The First Prince, Kaizer, looked almost too perfect.

His black suit fit him so well it made him stand out even more.

His hair was neat, his face sharp, and every movement had that strong, confident air of someone trained since birth to rule.

The Second Prince carried the same grace, but with a softness around the edges.

Not weak, just gentler.

His eyes were kinder, his posture relaxed, as if he didn't feel the need to show off his status.

The Third Prince walked with narrowed eyes, calm and unreadable.

His suit matched his brothers', and even though he was the youngest of them, he held his head high like he belonged exactly where he was.

All three wore outfits that matched the emperor, while the queen and the princess wore deep red, bright under the hall lights.

The royal family always dressed with unity, but Charlotte especially stood out.

She almost always wore red, and it suited her. She didn't seem to like any other color.

As she stepped into the hall, her eyes sharpened with curiosity.

She wasn't looking at the crowd.

She was searching for someone.

Vivian caught the look instantly.

He let out a small cough.

"Ahem."

The sound was small, but in the silent hall, it echoed.

Charlotte's head snapped toward him at once.

Her eyes lit up the moment she saw him.

And without waiting for the empress, the emperor, or even her brothers, she broke formation, something no royal child ever did.

She stepped out of the line and walked straight toward him, her movements quick and bright, like she had forgotten the entire hall existed.

But nobody seemed bothered by her sudden move.

The emperor and empress kept walking forward with calm steps, the princes followed behind without even blinking.

It was clear they were used to Charlotte doing things her own way.

She came right in front of Vivian, lifted the hem of her dress in a tiny playful curtsy, and asked, bright-eyed,

"How do I look?"

Vivian stared at her for a moment.

She always looked beautiful, everyone knew that, but today she looked… different.

Almost unreal.

The deep red dress fit her perfectly, bringing out her eyes and skin like she was glowing from the inside.

And her hair…

Her hair was what made everything too much.

Tied up in a neat bun, with two soft strands falling down the sides of her face.

Every time she moved, those two strands slid slightly, and she brushed them back with her fingers.

It was simple, but the effect was stronger than any magic spell.

"Vivian?" she said again, tilting her head.

Her voice snapped him out of his own thoughts.

He blinked and finally looked down beside him, where Edward was standing.

For one second, panic tensed his chest.

Edward wasn't there.

His head whipped around until he spotted the boy standing with his mother, looking polite and stiff like a small gentleman.

Vivian let out a quiet breath and relaxed.

He turned back to Charlotte.

Her bright eyes waited for his answer.

"How should I put it…?"

He started, trying to find the right words, the right tone, anything that wouldn't make him sound like an idiot in front of her.

"You know the lotus flower, right?" Vivian asked, keeping his face straight.

Charlotte's eyes lit up at once, like someone had just handed her a treasure.

"Do I look like a lotus?" she asked, leaning in a little, clearly expecting praise.

"No," he said calmly, "the mud it grows on."

Her whole expression collapsed.

Her cheeks puffed up.

Her eyebrows dropped.

Even her shoulders fell a little.

She looked like a cat that had just been denied its milk.

"Can't you just say I look like the flower?" she complained, lips forming a perfect little pout.

Vivian couldn't help it, he laughed.

A quiet, warm laugh that slipped out before he could stop it.

He reached forward and took her hand gently, her fingers soft and warm in his.

"Well," he said, his voice softer now, "that's how beautiful you are."

Her pout eased just a little.

"Think about it," he continued, raising her hand slightly.

"If that muddy water can give birth to something as stunning as a lotus… then what about you?"

For a second, Charlotte forgot how to breathe.

Her cheeks went bright red, so red it almost matched her dress, and she didn't speak for a long moment.

She just stared at him, frozen, hand still in his.

Then, in a tiny voice, still red to the ears, she whispered,

"Don't you think it's… too early for children?"

Vivian's brain short-circuited.

"Huh?"

He froze, every muscle locking into place. He hadn't meant anything like that.

He was just giving a poetic example, mud, lotus, beauty beyond what the eye can measure. That's it. Simple. Clean. Normal.

But Charlotte…

Charlotte clearly heard something very different.

She looked down shyly and continued, still burning red,

"But if you say so… I'll try…"

Her voice got softer.

Softer.

Too soft.

"…and if it's a boy, then his name will be Ian, and if—"

"Hey—HEY—"

Vivian nearly choked on air.

He leaned forward fast, grabbing her hands before she named the entire future family tree.

His face turned red too, bright, hot, impossible to hide.

He whipped his head around to check the room.

Thank the gods, no one was looking.

Everyone was still greeting the emperor.

When he was sure no eyes were on them, he leaned in and whispered, desperately,

"I didn't mean it that way!"

Charlotte blinked at him, confused and flustered, her face still glowing.

Vivian felt like the floor might just open up and swallow him whole.

"Listen… listen," Vivian said, still red all the way to the tips of his ears.

He lowered his voice so only she could hear.

"I didn't mean it that way. I meant, if the mud can give birth to something as beautiful as a lotus, then the mud itself must be beautiful too. It wasn't about you becoming a… a literal mother."

Charlotte kept staring straight at the floor.

Her hands squeezed her dress so tightly the fabric wrinkled.

She didn't dare look up after the wild thing she had just said.

Her neck, her ears, even the back of her head looked embarrassed.

Vivian swallowed. Hard.

He scratched the side of his cheek, trying to cool down the heat there.

Inside his head a traitor of a thought whispered,

'But still… in the future she'll look beautiful too… when she gives birth to my…children…'

He shut that thought down instantly. No way he was saying that out loud.

He would rather jump into a lake.

So instead he cleared his throat and gently nudged her shoulder with his elbow.

"Really. You misunderstood. That's all."

She nodded, still staring at the floor.

The air between them felt warm and strange.

A little sweet, a little awkward… the kind of moment where neither of them knew what to do, yet neither wanted to step away.