Chapter 125

The first page of the novel began with the night we met at the ball. The one I’d reluctantly attended just to escape father’s nagging. The night Armin, having picked a quiet room to avoid the crowd, heard footsteps and instinctively hid to avoid trouble.

It told of the moment he discovered me lying on the sofa, humming and reading a book, and how startled he was to find himself interfering when young Lord Jericho tried to pull something vile. How he’d worried, afterward, whether I’d catch a cold from leaving my shawl behind. How his heart had fluttered when I’d spoken to him so casually while making a sword-knot.

All of it was written from the male protagonist’s perspective.

“The main character’s name is Arkin? That sounds… oddly familiar.”

“Just… let it go. I really couldn’t come up with anything better.”

I raised a brow. That level of ‘inspiration’ was practically plagiarism. And then I finally reached the part where the heroine appeared—and burst out laughing.

“Cici? Oh, come on. Really?”

It was clearly based on my nickname, Vivi. But even in that simplicity, I could feel how much thought Armin had put into it. I didn’t want to turn the pages too fast.

Everything I knew—our memories—read like entries in Armin’s diary. Even the parts he’d never told me in detail, like his time with the border expedition. It was all there, told in his quiet, stoic voice.

And then came the scene where Arkin, desperate to stop the heroine’s marriage ceremony, rode through the night, changing horses without rest. Not because of the physical strain, but because of the unbearable fear of losing Cici.

Tears welled in my eyes.

The novel ended with a beautiful outdoor engagement between Cici and Arkin. A wave of emotion washed over me.

But it wasn’t over.

At the very end of the book was a ticket, much like the lottery stubs the Poster Times had sold when they turned one of R.G.’s debut works into a stage play. It had perforated lines for cutting and was labeled:

“Prize Exchange Ticket?”

…Seriously. He’d put even more effort into this than I’d expected.

I turned to look at Armin. Blushing but resolute, he held out his hand.

“If you bring in the ticket, you can exchange it for a prize.”

But Armin had miscalculated—badly.

“No.”

“…No?”

“Yes. No.”

“But, Vivi, you don’t even know what the prize is. I’m telling you, you’ll regret not redeeming it—”

“Excuse me, Lord Grey.”

I gave him a solemn look as I began to lecture.

“When it comes to books, there are three essential copies. One to read, one to collect, and one in case of emergencies. And you want me to cut up the only copy in existence?”

Absolutely not. That was a crime against literature.

“W-Wait, Vivi. That ticket is meant to be exchanged. I went all the way to Poster just to make sure it had clean tear lines—”

A noble effort, sure. I appreciated the attention to detail. But I remained firm.

“No, it’s fine. I already have the engagement ring. We had a huge, lavish engagement ceremony. There’s no one in the country who doesn’t know we’re engaged. And once we’re married, I’ll just wear the wedding ring. It’s not like skipping the proposal ring is going to change anything.”

Keeping the book pristine, uncut, and whole—that was what mattered most to me.

“I should write to Princess Florin. Ask her to get me one of those book preservation cases from the Temple of Gellang.”

I’d heard they used a special temple technique—originally developed to preserve divine oracles over long periods of time. The cases were airtight, waterproof, dustproof, and kept their contents perfectly intact, no matter how much time passed.

Armin’s face changed slightly, thrown off by how things were going so differently from what he’d expected. It was as if he didn’t quite know what to do—frustrated, amused, helpless.

I sighed in mock surrender and casually held out my hand.

“What?”

“Well, if I give up the prize voucher, I might be somewhat willing to accept the prize you prepared.”

“You’re giving up your… Vivi, do you realize how ridiculous that sounds?”

“Fine then, never mind. I just thought, since someone seemed so desperate to give it, maybe I’d do him a favor.”

At my dry retort, Armin finally let out a laugh with a defeated sigh.

“No, take it. Please. If I can’t give it to you today, I swear I won’t be able to sleep.”

“Well, in that case, I suppose I’ll accept—for the sake of saving a life.”

“Thank you for your boundless compassion, my lady. I’m genuinely moved to tears.”

“Was that sarcasm?”

“Would I dare?”

Armin grinned playfully at me before clearing his throat and standing up.

I wasn’t the only one who had dressed up tonight. Armin, who was always unnecessarily handsome, looked particularly breathtaking today. Though his hair, slicked back earlier, had loosened over time, it only made him look more natural—more effortlessly perfect. The golden epaulettes on his blue dress uniform sparkled as brightly as his hair.

I saw my reflection in the deep violet of his eyes. His tone had been light, but in those eyes, I could see how nervous he really was.

Kneeling slowly in front of me, Armin took out a black ring box from his inner coat pocket. Holding it in his left hand, he opened it with his right.

Inside sat a diamond ring, scattering light in every direction.

“Vivian Roha.”

I could hear him swallow—it sounded just like something from one of R.G.’s novels.

“Will you marry me?”

Instead of answering right away, I carefully set the book, which had been resting on my lap, onto the table. I was afraid I might accidentally damage it.

Then I threw myself into Armin’s arms.

Even though he must’ve known I would say yes, his heart was pounding hard—fast and loud against his chest.

“Of course I will. How could I ever run away from a man who already has names picked out for our future children?”

At that, his arms tightened around me. Holding me close, he whispered in my ear,

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Armin. So, so much.”

We held each other for a long time before he finally slid the ring onto my finger.

He noticed I was already wearing the wedding ring and gave me a long, meaningful look, but I feigned innocence.

It was only then that I realized why Sasha and the duchess had insisted I wear it today.

But even if it hadn’t been recorded or witnessed, it was a moment I’d remember for the rest of my life.

In the end, Armin let out a small, helpless laugh—and slid the proposal ring right over the wedding ring.

“An engagement ring, a proposal ring, and a wedding ring. My finger’s getting pretty rich, isn’t it?”

I chuckled at my own joke, and Armin joined in.

Neither of us waited for the other. We kissed.

It was a beautiful night.

* * *

Armin’s proposal had been perfectly tailored to me. But I didn’t tell others the whole truth. Someone might be curious enough to want to see Armin’s book, after all. That book was destined to become a Grey family heirloom, to be passed down for generations.

When I told Armin I’d been a little hurt that everyone had been in on the secret, he assured me that the only one who knew the full story was his mother. Everyone else only knew they were helping him prepare a proposal.

So when I spoke with Michelle and Princess Florin after she returned, I simply said I’d received a classic, traditional proposal. That alone was enough to make them sigh and smile, calling it romantic.

The day after the proposal, I visited the Grey duchy. As if she’d known I would come, the Duchess had skipped lunch and was waiting for me.

“Did you enjoy the novel?”

She smiled brightly as she asked, and I nodded in return. It was obvious how much care she had put into polishing Armin’s rough manuscript—his very first attempt at writing.

“So that’s why you looked so tired lately?”

“Oh, don’t even mention it. He pestered me night after night!”

Now that everything was out in the open, she confessed everything with a relieved smile and proceeded to tell me all the behind-the-scenes details of the grand proposal operation—stories Armin would never have told himself. And since the Duchess was such an engaging storyteller, I lost track of time listening.

After the stories, the Duchess gave me a warm look and led me to a certain room.

“What is this place?”

“This is a space you’ll use after the wedding.”

“But I’ve already seen the marital bedroom?”

“Oh, sweetheart. You’ll need your own space too, won’t you?”

Knowing how much I liked lounging around, the Duchess had worked on the interior design of this room during the time Armin had been preparing the proposal. It was filled with sunlight and warmth, every detail infused with her affection.

“There will be a bed over there, and a long blue sofa right here. What do you think?”

She described the layout she envisioned as we looked around the room together.

When she was done, she turned to me with a soft gaze and said gently,

“We can’t wait for you to officially become part of our family, Vivian.”

And she wasn’t the only one waiting for the wedding day—I was, too. I was looking forward to beginning a new life in this house.

Time passed.

And at last, the day of the wedding arrived.