My arms were starting to go numb. The legs that had been tightly bound also began to twitch slightly.

Although my body consistently sent me distress signals, I couldn't do anything about it. This situation was my own doing, after all.

"Um..."

I tentatively opened my mouth, hoping that maybe—

"No."

"Okay."

Marghetta's firm refusal made me immediately close my mouth again. I hadn't even finished speaking yet.

"I’m not letting you go until club time is here."

Marghetta said this and hugged me tighter as if she was scolding me for already trying to run away.

It was Marghetta, so what could I do? Even if I felt a bit uncomfortable, I willingly complied.

She will let me go during club time.

She was also being considerate even amidst this. She was too good for someone like me, who deserved to be in jail.

Feeling grateful, I tightened my embrace around Marghetta, and she rubbed her face against my chest contentedly.

I feel a bit embarrassed.

I look away in embarrassment.

It wasn't because of the hug; it wasn’t our first time hugging, so what was there to be embarrassed about now?

Instead, it was the pose; it seemed rather peculiar.

It’s good that no one else is here.

I looked down at Marghetta, who was still burying her face in my chest.

She wasn’t just hugging me normally; she was sitting on my lap, her legs locking my lower body as we faced each other.

Maybe I was just being sensitive, but wasn’t this a bit strange? It seemed like a posture that could be easily misunderstood if someone else saw it.

Well, it doesn’t matter.

No one could come here without Marghetta's permission, so it should be fine.

Yes, it shouldn’t be a problem. I couldn’t push Marghetta away just because I felt a bit shy. How could I after seeing that earlier?

"Carl! Are-are you okay? You're not hurt anywhere, right? Did you eat properly?"

To keep my promise of seeing her first after being released, I skipped the Principal's office and headed straight to the Vice President's office. As soon as I entered, Marghetta threw away the paperwork she was doing and rushed to me.

It might be an exaggeration, but she checked me from head to toe. Her touch was so desperate and pitiful that I couldn't even bring myself to dodge them.

"I’m okay. There were no problems at all."

"Th-thank goodness... oh... thank goodness..."

It was only after I reassured her several times that Marghetta was able to calm down.

"Heuk... Heukk... Heuuk!"

Well, she didn’t seem to have calmed down completely.

Marghetta thumped my chest a few times while sobbing heavily. She might have been hitting me from her perspective, but it really felt more like a pat to me.

It didn't hurt physically, but it felt like an emotional attack rather than a physical one.

"You're so mean! You promised you wouldn't get locked up again! You said you wouldn't make me worry anymore!"

"I’m sorry..."

I couldn’t lift my head at Marghetta’s outburst as she poured out the sorrow she had been suppressing for five days.

Yes, I had said that. To comfort Marghetta, who was worried about my probation, I promised that it wouldn’t happen again.

Of course, it was a promise I couldn’t keep. At that time, I was just one report away from being imprisoned. The notion of it not happening again was ludicrous; I could have been locked up the very next day.

And who in their right mind would say 'I would probably be imprisoned next time' to someone saddened by probation? That would be something only the Second Prince would dare to do.

"Sit down right now."

“Ah, yes."

Marghetta then commanded sharply, her eyes fiercely narrowed.

She seemed to be trying to look intimidating, but she was honestly more cute than scary with her eyes red from crying.

Of course, I couldn’t say that to her face.

Nevertheless, Marghetta sat on my lap and wrapped her arms around my back after I followed her command to sit on the sofa...

"I won’t let you go. Carl is mine for today."

She declared it as if she was warning me to brace myself for war.

The last vestiges of my conscience restrained me from retorting with 'Haven’t I always been yours?'

If this makes her feel better, then so be it.

I gently stroked Marghetta’s head. It felt only right to comply even if she claimed me not just for today but for the next five days as well.

Let’s stay like this at least until her tears dry.

***

I couldn’t lift my face from Carl’s chest.

How embarrassing...

I lost my composure upon seeing Carl. Relief and resentment flooded in when I confirmed he was unharmed.

...And so, I couldn’t maintain my usual dignity.

What if he dislikes me for being an undignified lady?

However, it was too late. I had already burst into tears in front of Carl and had assailed a man who had just been released. I couldn’t blame him if he became disappointed with me.

Still, it was the moment my fiancé returned from jail.

How could I hold back?

Carl said that it was only for five days, but I found that hard to accept. Was the duration really what mattered?

Those five days felt like an eternity in hell and were more agonizing than ever. I would have willingly gone to jail if it meant getting Carl out.

Even now, tears kept streaming down my face as I thought of Carl being imprisoned.

I shouldn’t be like this...

Ashamed, I burrowed into Carl’s chest. As I did, I could feel his clothes getting wet with my tears.

And yet, Carl held me without complaint, soothingly stroking my head.

It’s warm.

I wish we could stay like this forever.

Let’s forgive him.

I hated that he broke his promise and ended up imprisoned, and I despised that it was not just probation but imprisonment, but Carl must’ve had the hardest time.

Let's forgive him this time. Yes, just this time. Really.

"Um, Marghetta?"

"No."

As I felt the calming warmth between us, Carl spoke again.

I immediately refused, thinking that he would ask to be let go again. No way. Forgiveness was possible, but only after he'd properly made it up to me. We weren’t there yet.

But Carl let out a small laugh while looking a bit sheepish and continued speaking.

"Do you have time this weekend?"

I almost lifted my head at his question, but I hurriedly lowered it again. I hadn’t seen myself in the mirror, but I was pretty sure that my face must be a mess. I shouldn’t let him see me like that.

When I didn't say anything, Carl chuckled again and gently stroked my hair.

"There is a celebration at the Invinicible Duke’s mansion this weekend for Her Highness the Crown Princess’s birthday."

I nodded absentmindedly, recalling a conversation. Father had suggested we attend together, but I had declined because Carl was imprisoned and I was too distracted with my student council duties...

"I’ve been invited by the Invincible Duke as well, but I don’t have a partner. Going alone seemed too insincere, so I hesitated."

My heart raced at his words.

Weekend, celebration, and partner. If I didn’t realize what he was hinting at, then I wouldn’t be considered either a noble or a human.

Partner.

The word made my heart flutter. Attending the celebration with Carl as my partner...

It wasn’t just any celebration, either, but the Crown Princess’s birthday. It would be a gathering of notable figures, almost like a small New Year's Ball.

To attend proudly as Carl’s partner at such an event?

That’s amazing.

My lips curled into a smile. Just by attending, I could flaunt my relationship with Carl to the social circles. Within a day after the celebration, the entire empire and the whole continent would know.

"Do you remember the club fair? I said back then that if it’s okay with you, that I’d like to be your partner..."

I remembered. It was the monumental day when I had Carl’s first dance.

And I felt touched. He even remembered a passing comment.

"Will you be my partner?"

"I will!"

I instinctively lifted my head, and then regretted it.

I had been staying quiet because I didn’t want to show him my face, but I foolishly forgot about it.

"Thank you, Mar."

But I felt relieved as I saw Carl smile as if nothing was wrong.

***

Marghetta's mood seemed to improve the moment I asked her to be my partner.

The tears in her eyes were replaced with laughter, and she finally revealed her face that she had been burying in my chest.

Crying and then laughing...

I caught myself having an embarrassingly inappropriate thought and quickly shook my head. But it was indeed true. Seeing her cry and then laugh after did make her look pretty.

Internally apologizing to Marghetta, I quickened my pace. The conversation had gone on longer than expected, and I was running late for club time.

It’s my first day back.

To mark my return with a tardy arrival felt like a unique form of torture. What kind of torture was this?

Anyway, I hurried as much as I could and soon arrived at the club room.

"Oppa!"

"Sorry, I’m a bit late."

Louise, who had been pacing around the club room, rushed towards me as I opened the door without knocking.

"O-oh, thank goodness. I was worried you might still be in the underground prison...!"

I could only smile bitterly at Louise's sigh of relief. After all, it was only understandable to have such thoughts when the supposedly released person wasn’t seen around.

After patting her shoulder a few times to reassure her, I turned to see the other club members approaching.

I felt secretly grateful to them. I was worried that they might all come flocking for a visit during my imprisonment, but fortunately, only Louise and Erich had come.

What a sight that would’ve been.

The guard might’ve actually bit his tongue.

"Advisor, are you okay?"

Rutis was the first to approach, cautiously asking how I was doing. His face looked unusually serious.

It was strange seeing him like this, especially since he was the one who famously pulled off the ‘tofu cake’ prank after my probation. I understood, though.

Perhaps he realized that he overdid it?

It would’ve been no different from eating chicken in front of a friend who just had a tonsillectomy, or gifting them Shooting Star ice cream. It was okay to tease to a certain extent.

However, you shouldn’t tease someone who was in a severe accident and couldn’t move. It was that kind of principle.

"I’m fine."

Still, the fact that he knew where to draw the line made me feel oddly proud.

Yes, our club members are fundamentally good people.

"Aren’t you giving me anything this time? I was kind of looking forward to it."

As I teased him while enjoying the rising satisfaction I felt, Rutis gave an awkward smile.

Sorry, this is the epitome of a lame club president joke—

"I prepared something."

?

You’ve got to be kidding me.

Why did he prepare something again?