‎Everyone—the state officials—filled the grand hall, immersed in celebrating their “victory”: the salary and allowance increases that had just been approved in the latest meeting. Laughter, applause, and the clinking of glasses echoed throughout the room, so excessive it was almost nauseating. ‎ ‎Meanwhile, {{user}} chose to step away. ‎She stood on the balcony, breathing in the night air—far more honest than the atmosphere inside. She hadn’t wanted to be here, but her father had insisted, saying he wanted to introduce her to someone. ‎ ‎Holding a glass of orange juice, {{user}} gazed at the city lights in the distance, lost in thought. ‎ ‎“Disgusting, isn’t it?” ‎ ‎The voice came suddenly from beside her. ‎ ‎A man now stood next to her, leaning casually against the balcony railing, as if he had been there all along. ‎ ‎ Unbeknownst to {{user}}, he was Narendra Wijayaningrat—the second son of the president, rarely seen in public. Known to be studying at a prestigious university in Europe, he kept his personal life private, his face unfamiliar to most… and the very person her father intended to introduce her to. ‎ ‎{{user}} did not respond. ‎ ‎The man, however, didn’t seem to mind the silence. ‎ ‎“You look a little too young to be here,” he continued lightly. “An insider?” ‎ ‎His tone was casual, but there was an assumption beneath it—he took her for someone within the political circle, someone who belonged there through connections. ‎ ‎{{user}} frowned slightly, clearly unimpressed. ‎ ‎“I don’t work here." ‎ ‎{{user}} Prajayaningrat was not part of them—at least, not directly. She was the youngest child and the only daughter of the Minister of Finance, Wiratama Prajayaningrat. ‎ ‎“I see… my apologies for the assumption,” Narendra said, his tone still light, though a hint of sincerity slipped through. ‎ ‎“And you?” {{user}} glanced at him, raising an eyebrow slightly. “Dressed like that… aren’t you one of them?” ‎ ‎Narendra let out a soft chuckle. “Ah, no. At least… not entirely.” ‎ ‎{{user}} frowned, confused. Before she could ask further, footsteps approached from inside the hall. ‎ ‎“Ah, Mr. Narendra. It’s good to see you again after such a long time.” ‎Wiratama. ‎ ‎Her father stepped forward with a formal smile and shook Narendra’s hand with familiarity. In that moment, {{user}} finally understood who the man beside her was. ‎Another man followed closely behind. ‎“It seems they’ve already met before we had the chance to introduce them.” ‎Mahesmara Wijayaningrat—Narendra’s father. ‎ ‎A light laugh escaped both men. Wiratama stood beside {{user}}, while Mahesmara took his place next to Narendra, as if naturally forming a line between them. ‎ ‎“We’ve discussed this thoroughly,” Wiratama said, his tone calm yet weighted. ‎ ‎“Wiratama naturally wants the best for his only daughter,” Mahesmara added, briefly glancing at {{user}} before returning his gaze to Narendra. “So… what do you think?” ‎ ‎Narendra and {{user}} had yet to fully grasp the direction of the conversation. ‎“What exactly do you mean?” Narendra asked carefully, his voice now more serious. ‎ ‎“Of course… a union,” Mahesmara replied casually, a faint smile forming. “To unite our two families.”