"Where are you? Maya..."
I gritted my teeth, whispering upward, hoping Maya would appear. But ever since the engagement ceremony began, there'd been no sign of it.
"I'm here…"
I flinched, but forced myself to calm down immediately. Slowly turning around, I blinked and managed a shaky smile. "Ha—hi, Mr. Lucian…"
"Call me Ian," Lucian said smoothly. "We're fiancés now."
He sounded calm... too calm. Not the reaction of someone who'd just learned he was engaged to a counterfeit.
"Have a seat." He gestured to the chair in front of him.
I sat down, trying to ignore how quiet the private room felt. Every inch of him screamed composed perfection, which only made me more nervous. He was pretending not to know. I could feel it.
"I should apologize for earlier," Lucian said, his tone polite. "I didn't recognize you at the office yesterday."
I blinked. Yesterday? Oh, right. That scene. The one where I got publicly fired by my fake fiancé.
"Ah—uh, yes… it's okay," I said quickly. "I didn't recognize you either. I was… really busy… getting fired."
He tilted his head slightly, a faint glimmer of amusement in his eyes. But nothing else. No accusation, no tension. Just that calm, unreadable smile.
'He's good,' I thought grimly. Too good.
"That's all in the past now," he said, his tone smooth. "Let's start over, shall we? If we're to be engaged, I'd rather we make it work."
Start over. Right.
This was definitely an act.
Still, I smiled sweetly. "Of course. Let's make it work."
He smiled back, polite and perfectly measured, like the kind of man you could never catch slipping. Charming on the outside, calculating underneath.
Before I could think of what to say next, Lucian reached into his suit pocket.
A small velvet box appeared in his hand.
"I owe you an apology," he said, flipping it open to reveal a diamond ring that looked like it came with its own security detail. "I wasn't able to put this on you earlier during the ceremony. It was left in the car."
I blinked rapidly. "You—what?"
He didn't answer. Just took my hand, his touch cold and deliberate, sliding the ring onto my finger like he'd done this a thousand times before.
My brain short-circuited.
"That's…" I trailed off, staring at the glittering ring. "Wow. That's a big commitment for a man who just met me."
Lucian's lips curved faintly. "We're already engaged. Commitment is part of the package."
My stomach twisted. He said it too smoothly. Too easily.
No doubt in his tone. No question about who I was.
'He's definitely pretending,' I thought, fighting the urge to glare. He knows I'm not Celestia, but he's keeping up the act.
Lucian looked at the ring, then at me. "We'll hold the wedding ceremony next week."
"W–wedding?" I choked. "Next week? As in… actually happening?"
He looked completely unbothered. "Our families have already agreed. There's no reason to delay."
Of course not. Why wait when you're setting bait?
"Right," I said flatly. "Efficiency is good. Love that for us."
Lucian gave a soft chuckle, standing up. "I checked with Sebastian... you'll start work as my personal assistant tomorrow."
My mouth dropped open. "I—what?"
"I thought it would help you adjust," he said calmly. "And perhaps ease any… awkwardness between us."
Awkwardness. Cute word for 'you're my fake fiancée, and I'm setting a trap.'
Still, I forced a smile. "Oh, yes. Nothing says bonding like unpaid emotional labor."
Lucian's lips twitched, almost like he wanted to laugh. Almost. "I'll see you tomorrow then, Lady Celeste."
He extended his hand. His gaze was steady. His tone is polite. His act was flawless.
I took his hand and squeezed back, smiling brightly. "Of course, err… Lord…? Lucian..."
Inside, my thoughts burned like wildfire. 'He could play his game all he wanted. I'd play mine better.'
The moment I stepped out of the private room, I exhaled so hard I nearly deflated the corset under this cursed gown. My pulse was still racing, half from nerves, half from fury.
"'Lady Celeste,' my feathered tail," I muttered under my breath. "You can pretend all you want, Mr. Ice Cube, but I know you know."
Silence.
"Maya?" I whispered, glancing upward. "Now would be a great time to chime in with some guidance. Or a panic button. Or maybe a teleport function?"
Nothing. Not even static.
Great. My system had gone on strike.
I slipped out a side corridor, away from the music and glittering chandeliers, until I found a quieter terrace. Moonlight spilled across marble floors, cool air brushing against my overheated skin. I pressed a hand against the railing, trying to steady my breathing.
"Okay," I whispered to myself. "New plan. Survive the week, fake the smile, find a loophole—"
"Talking to yourself?"
The low, smooth voice came from the shadows near the marble arch.
I froze, turning toward the sound. A man stepped forward, and for a second, the moonlight seemed to bend with him. His silver-blond hair caught the light like liquid starlight, his movements too fluid and effortless and obviously couldn't be human.
His eyes were an uncanny gray-blue, clear and open but with a depth that made my pulse skip.
"Sorry," he said, tone warm and teasing. "Didn't mean to interrupt your… ritual?"
"Ritual?" I repeated, trying to sound unfazed.
He gestured lazily toward me. "You looked like you were summoning something."
"Oh, that." I exhaled, crossing my arms. "Just calling for divine intervention. Response time's been disappointing."
He chuckled. A sound smooth and light, almost musical, like wind over wings.
"Auren Lysander, Vice President of Celestial Industries. We handle inter-clan logistics for the high-tier corporations…" He smiled and continued, "You must be Lady Celeste Blaze."
Auren Lysander? Why did the name sound familiar? Where did I hear it? My mind scrambled to connect it, until it hit me.
'Wait. Lysander. The Pegasus Duke from the novel!'
But wait… I don't remember reading that the male lead ever met this cannon fodder!