This wasn’t just a problem.

It was a full-blown, high-society, life-altering catastrophe.

Engaged. He was engaged.

And no one—least of all his father—had thought to mention it until today. Not yesterday. Not last week. Today. The very day his mysterious fiancée was scheduled to arrive at Louvent Manor.

Ars was thirteen. Thirteen! He hadn’t even held hands with a girl in his previous life, let alone contemplated marriage. And now, here he was—storming in frantic circles around his room like a wind-up toy on the verge of combustion.

A fiancée.

The word itself felt foreign, like something out of a novel he wasn’t ready to read. Sure, he knew noble families arranged these things early. It was tradition. Politics. Strategy. But somehow, he’d always imagined he’d be the exception. The boy too ordinary to be swept into such grand designs.

And yet, here he stood. At the grand entrance of the manor, heart thudding like a war drum, watching the carriage roll to a stop. A servant rushed forward to open the door, and Ars’s mind exploded with questions.

Who was she?

Was she kind? Cold? Calculating?

Would she hate him?

Would she laugh at him?

Would she be disappointed?

He clenched his fists, trying to silence the storm inside. No use panicking now. The moment was here. The door creaked open, and as his fiancée stepped out, Ars instinctively activated his “Appraisal” skill—eyes flickering with quiet desperation as he scanned her stats like a nervous merchant inspecting rare goods.

Whatever happened next, he’d have to face it head-on. Even if his knees were shaking.