66 - Nickname
The gazebo settled into a fragile kind of calm—one that felt less like peace and more like a delicate balance waiting to tip.
Steam curled softly from porcelain teacups. The faint rustle of leaves danced through the air. From a distance, it might have looked like nothing more than a quiet gathering between old acquaintances.
But beneath the surface, everything was moving. Carefully. Quietly. Dangerously.
Empress Lilith leaned back slightly in her seat, her posture elegant as ever. The sharp edge in her gaze from earlier had softened—at least on the surface.
“… it truly has been a long time, Darelene.” She said, her voice warm, almost nostalgic.
Grand Duchess Darelene allowed a faint smile. “It has. I did not expect our next meeting to be under such… circumstances.”
Lilith chuckled lightly. “Neither did I. Though, I suppose life rarely asks for our expectations before it changes everything.”
Mariana blinked quietly from her seat.
Changes everything…? Why does that sound ominous…?
“I still remember,” Lilith continued, lifting her teacup, “when you insisted on sneaking out of the Temple just to attend that midsummer festival.”
Darelene exhaled softly, clearly caught off guard. “You remember that?”
“How could I forget?” Lilith smiled, eyes glinting faintly. “You dragged me along. I nearly caused a diplomatic incident because of it.”
Mariana froze.
Wait. Wait wait wait...
She slowly turned her head toward her mother. “You… dragged the Empress… out… of the Temple…?”
Darelene cleared her throat lightly. “We were young.”
“That is not an explanation…!” Mariana whispered under her breath.
Lilith laughed—a genuine, unrestrained laugh that echoed softly in the gazebo. “She was far more troublesome than she appears now.”
“I was not troublesome.” Darelene replied calmly.
“You climbed a temple wall.”
“It was a low wall.”
“You bribed a guard.”
“He was underpaid.”
Mariana stared at both of them. Her brain short-circuited.
This… was not in the novel. At all. Not even hinted. Not even slightly implied.
The villainess’s mother and the male lead’s mother were close? Close enough to sneak out together?! What kind of hidden lore is this…?!
Her thoughts spiraled rapidly.
This changes everything...
If they were close, then the engagement—no, wait. That makes it worse. Way worse. Because this isn’t just political anymore. This is personal.
Her hands clenched slightly under the table.
I am so screwed...
Meanwhile, beside her, Zafiel hadn’t moved much. Hadn’t spoken much. Hadn’t even touched his tea. Because his attention was entirely elsewhere on her.
Mariana could feel it. Even without looking. It was like a constant, quiet pressure against her side. And it was making it very difficult to function.
Just act normal… act normal… act normal…
She slowly reached for a piece of pastry. Small. Harmless. Safe. She took a bite. Chewed. Swallowed.
Yes, focus on food... Food is good... Food is safe...
Then, the plate shifted. Mariana blinked. Another pastry—this one chocolate—was suddenly closer to her. She froze. Slowly, very slowly, she turned her head.
Zafiel sat there, posture relaxed. Expression calm. Eyes on her. “Eat.” He said quietly.
Mariana’s face immediately heated up. “I-I am eating…” she whispered back.
“More.”
Her brain malfunctioned.
Wha-What is this interaction...? What is happening...? Why is he like... this...?
She awkwardly picked up the chocolate pastry. Took a bite. And immediately regretted nothing. “Thi-This is good…” she muttered.
Zafiel’s lips curved faintly. “I know.”
Across from them, Lilith and Darelene saw everything. Every small movement. Every glance. Every subtle shift.
But neither of them commented. Because commenting would make it real. And right now, they were both pretending it wasn’t.
“Do you remember the winter banquet?” Lilith continued smoothly.
Darelene nodded. “The one where you almost set the curtains on fire?”
“That was an accident.”
“You lit a candle too close to silk drapery.”
“It was decorative.”
“It was flammable.”
Mariana stared blankly at the table.
I feel like I’m learning things I was not meant to know…
“Iana.”
The word cut through everything. Soft. Quiet. But unmistakable. Mariana froze. Her entire body locked up.
Slowly, painfully slowly, she turned her head. Zafiel was looking at her. Directly. Calmly. Like he hadn’t just dropped a bomb. Her heart started racing. Again.
Iana. That name, that was her name. From her past life.
“… yes…?” She answered, voice slightly strained.
Why did he say that...? Why does he keep saying that...? This is the second time The first time, I ignored it.
But now, this is not coincidence.
“You should eat more.” He said, as if nothing was wrong.
Mariana blinked rapidly.
That’s not the issue...!
She forced a small laugh. “I-Is that… is that a nickname…?” she asked carefully.
Play it off. Play it off...! Don’t panic... don’t reveal anything...
Zafiel watched her for a moment. Then, he smiled. Soft. Gentle. Dangerous. “If you’d like it to be.” he said.
Mariana’s stomach dropped. That was not a denial. That was not a clarification. That was ambiguous. Intentionally.
“The-Then…” She swallowed slightly, “Y-Your Imperial Highness… is that… what I should call you as well…?”
Zafiel tilted his head slightly. “No.” Then, “Call me Zai.”
Silence. Complete. Absolute. Even the wind seemed to pause.
Mariana’s brain stopped working. “… what…?” she whispered.
Across the table, Darelene froze. Lilith froze. Both of them turned to Zafiel at the same time.
Because that was not normal. Not even slightly. Zafiel Abaddon von Clematis. The Crown Prince. Heir to the Empire. A man no one addressed casually. Not by name. Not by familiarity. Not by anything less than title.
Even Lilith—his own mother—had never called him “Zai.” And yet, he was offering it. Freely. To her.
Lilith’s eyes narrowed slightly. Not in anger. Not entirely. But in realization.
Oh… this is not obsession. This is worse. Much worse.
Because obsession could fade. Could be controlled. Could be redirected.
But this... the way his gaze stayed on Mariana. The way his voice softened only for her. The way he moved things—small, insignificant things—just to make her more comfortable.
This wasn’t possession. This wasn’t curiosity. This was... love. Focused. Unwavering. Dangerously absolute. And that… was far more terrifying.
"I-I—” Mariana tried to speak. Failed. Tried again. “I’ll… think about it…” she managed weakly.
Zafiel nodded once. “Take your time.”
As if he wasn’t completely overturning social norms. As if he hadn’t just shaken the foundation of imperial etiquette. As if this was normal.
The tea party continued. But nothing felt the same anymore. Because now, everyone knew. Or at least, everyone understood enough.
Darelene lowered her gaze slightly, hiding the tension in her expression. Lilith took a slow sip of her tea, masking the storm behind her calm demeanor. And Mariana, she just wanted the ground to open up and swallow her whole.
Because somehow, without realizing it... without intending to... without any control over it, she had stepped into something far deeper than the novel. Far more dangerous. And far more real.
Beside her, Zafiel remained still. Calm. Composed. But his gaze never left her. Not even once. And in his eyes, there was no hesitation. No doubt. No room for anyone else.
Only her. Always her.