The Imperial Palace of Angelis was a masterpiece of architecture—its towering spires glistened under the golden afternoon sun, and the pristine marble walls shimmered faintly as if reflecting the anticipation in the air.
Today was no ordinary day.
The palace, usually composed and serene, buzzed with energy and urgency. Servants rushed across the halls like waves, their footsteps echoing against the polished floors.
Maids hurried with armfuls of velvet drapes, crystal chandeliers, and silver platters, while butlers positioned golden candelabras along the grand corridor, adjusting them to perfect symmetry.
The imperial gardens—already famed across the continent—were being transformed into a fairytale wonder.
Ribbons of silk flowed between white-rose-covered arches, and enchanted lanterns floated slowly among the trees, giving the impression that stars had descended to attend the celebration.
The garden fountains ran with colored water, blooming into lights every few seconds, and musicians were rehearsing quietly beneath a pavilion, their tunes weaving warmth into the breeze.
In the heart of the palace, the kitchen resembled a kingdom of its own.
Over thirty chefs moved in orchestrated precision, slicing, stirring, plating. Entire lines of pastry chefs lined golden trays with delicacies shaped like swans, stars, and roses.
The scent of roasted herbs, honeyed fruit, and freshly baked bread spilled into the halls, making even the guards on duty swallow hard with restraint.
Despite the frenzy, everything ran like clockwork.
And at the center of it all stood Emperor Charles Angelis.
Draped in his ceremonial navy robes embroidered with the golden sigil of the empire, the emperor moved from hall to hall, watching, inspecting, nodding. His usual cold and calculating aura was replaced—at least today—with a rare gentleness.
"All this… just for her," he murmured, observing a line of servants arranging crystal goblets under the great moonlit dome.
He paused at the palace gates, where wagons filled with food, warm blankets, and bags of gold awaited.
"To be distributed in my daughter's name," he said firmly to a knight commander beside him. "Every beggar, every orphan, every forgotten soul within the city must feel that today… the princess of Angelis smiled upon them."
The knight bowed deeply. "As you command, Your Majesty."
Elsewhere, within the Princess's private chamber…
Chaos had taken a different form.
The room—larger than some noble estates—was flooded with silk, velvet, and lace. Dresses of every color, texture, and design were strewn across divans, tables, and even the grand carpet. Gold-trimmed heels and gemstone-studded tiaras lay in every corner, catching the sunlight through tall stained glass windows.
Charlotte Angelis stood in the center, arms crossed and expression blank, as the sixth gown of the hour was fastened onto her.
Two master costume designers circled her like vultures, muttering about draping and waistlines, while six maids stood by with fans, pins, and accessories at the ready.
"That one's too bold," said one designer, shaking his head.
"No, no—this one enhances her waistline!" argued the other, holding up a crimson gown encrusted with rubies.
Charlotte sighed. It had been five hours since this ordeal began. Morning had melted into afternoon. She had tried emerald silks, sapphire satins, ivory chiffons, gowns with flowing capes and jeweled corsets, and yet… none of them felt right.
"They're all beautiful," she muttered under her breath. "But none of them feel like… me."
"Princess, just one more—please try the ice blue one!"
"No, no! The sunrise gold—it's tradition for birthdays!"
As the designers argued again, Charlotte stepped aside, glancing at the mirror. Her long blonde hair flowed like molten sunlight, her void eyes tired yet thoughtful.
Then, something sparked in her memory.
Noah's voice, quiet yet distinct.
"You look good in anything… but black suits you the best."
She turned suddenly, walking past racks of colorful gowns to a quiet corner. There, tucked in the shadows as if forgotten, hung a gown unlike the others.
A flowing masterpiece of black velvet, its embroidery stitched in silver threads that glimmered like moonlight on midnight water. The neckline was subtle, elegant, and the sleeves tapered with delicate lace. The back had a falling cascade of silver patterns resembling falling stars.
Charlotte's breath hitched.
"…This one," she whispered.
The room went still.
The designers looked at each other. "Black? For a birthday?"
But Charlotte stepped forward and touched the fabric.
"I've made my decision."
And for the first time that day, her voice carried no hesitation.
—
[Augustus Mansion–Noah's Room]
Noah's POV
Today is Charlotte's birthday.
I've already gifted Layla her exclusive dress — the Fallen Bridal Set. That possessive little yandere was so happy she nearly melted into my arms.
But Scarlett… Lyra…
They don't have something like that yet.
And I'm not the type to leave my girls feeling lesser.
Especially not today.
I leaned back on my bed, eyes scanning the ceiling, then smirked.
"Eva," I called. "Open the matrimonial shop."
[System: …It's called the Affection Shop, host.]
"But that product you showed me before — the dresses. They're basically bridal gear."
I grinned. "Matrimonial fits perfectly, don't you think?"
[System: Tsk… I hate it when you're right.]
I chuckled softly.
Two options stood out instantly — glowing softly in that strange translucent panel only I could see.
[Frozen Bridal Set: Heart of Winter]
[Bloodshade Vow: Crimson Bridal Set]
A perfect match for Lyra and Scarlett.
Beautiful. Lethal. And completely theirs.
"Buy both," I said without hesitation.
[80,000 AP deducted x2. Items added to inventory.]
—
First stop: Scarlett's room.
I knocked once. She opened the door a crack, then blinked in surprise. "Noah?"
I stepped in and handed her a sealed black-and-red box with a crimson ribbon. "Happy birthday… to someone else, but you're getting spoiled too."
Her eyes widened as she opened it, the glow of enchantments softly lighting up her face.
"Noah… this is—"
I placed a finger on her lips.
"You'll look perfect in it. And no matter how many people see you at that party tonight…" I leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. "Just remember — you belong to me."
Her face turned the same shade as the gown.
—
Second stop: Lyra.
She was reading, as always. Quiet, poised, cold. Until she saw me.
Her guard dropped ever so slightly. "Noah?"
"Gift," I said simply, setting the box on her table. I leaned against the wall, watching her reaction as she opened it.
The icy magic laced in the fabric resonated instantly with her. Her fingers brushed over the embroidery, eyes wide in disbelief.
"You chose this… for me?"
"Only for you," I said, then moved close and pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek as well. "Don't freeze too many hearts tonight, alright?"
She looked away, hiding the tremble in her smile.
—
And of course… third stop: Layla.
She pouted the moment she opened the door. "You gave them something, didn't you?"
I sighed dramatically. "You already have an exclusive set, Layla. Made just for you."
"But I want another one!"
I stepped forward, ruffling her hair. "You're the first one I gave something that personal to. Your set's not just a dress — it's a vow."
She blinked. Then grinned wickedly. "So I'm your first wife?"
"…Don't push it," I muttered.
I leaned down and kissed her cheek too. "You're not getting a second set, but you are getting spoiled."
She hummed, leaning into me like a cat.
Layla was still clinging to my shirt, her pout refusing to fade.
"No fair… You always make the others blush, give them romantic gifts, sweet words…" she whispered, her fingers twisting into my clothes. "What about me?"
I sighed.
Guess I really do spoil her the most.
"Alright, alright…" I muttered, opening the Affection Shop again. "Eva, bring up the mood-soothing items."
[System: I already know what you're looking for. Adding "Body Pillow: Limited Edition Noah" to suggestion panel.]
I rolled my eyes but smirked. "Perfect. Buy it."
[8000 AP deducted. Item delivered.]
A soft puff of light appeared beside me, and I held out the long, plush pillow. It was styled to look like me — white hair, crimson eyes embroidered, a confident smirk stitched into the face. Even the outfit resembled my training uniform.
Layla froze.
Then gasped.
Then snatched it out of my hands like a dragon claiming treasure.
"Y-You made a version of yourself for me to hug at night?" she whispered, trembling with excitement.
"I figured you'd like that more than a second dress," I said, scratching the back of my head.
She jumped at me — not angrily this time — wrapping both arms around my neck and pulling me down onto her bed, the body pillow squished between us.
"Noah… I'm going to die of happiness. This is the best thing ever."
I laughed, letting her cling to me. "You're already dramatic. Try not to actually die."
"I'll try," she mumbled into my chest.
She curled up against me, holding the pillow in one arm and me in the other. Her hair tickled my chin. The warmth of her breath brushed my collarbone.
I gently stroked her back in slow circles. "There, there. Jealous little yandere soothed?"
"…Only because you're warm," she whispered, voice already slowing.
I kissed the top of her head.
"Sleep if you want. You've got a party to crash later, remember?"
"Mm… only if I dream about you…"
Her grip tightened on both me and the pillow, and within minutes, her breathing slowed.
Spoiled, selfish, dangerous… but she was mine. And she deserved every piece of this happiness.