Chapter 167

Chapter 167

Eve had mentally prepared her speech, but Lorca’s sudden “I am willing” shattered all her plans, leaving her words stuck in her throat, sputtering like a broken clock.

After a long moment, she tapped her fingernail against the glass she held, mumbling, “We’re still students. It hardly seems the right time to consider marriage.” She avoided looking at Lorca, though she knew he was silently observing her.

“Eve grew up on an outer planet and doesn’t understand noble customs,” the Medici Patriarch sighed. “Arranged marriages require early confirmation. Once a candidate is chosen, further interactions are immediately arranged to mitigate the aversion to forced unions. Moreover, forging an alliance between two families is no simple task; it often takes years to solidify the marital and financial ties.”

This was precisely why the Medici family brought branch children into the main household as soon as their psychic energy levels were detected.

Prolonged interaction, even if it didn’t spark the illusory emotion called “love,” typically fostered a familial bond. Such stability was the most crucial foundation for an arranged marriage.

Eve’s eyelashes fluttered as she looked up at Sparti, who immediately understood her unspoken question and gently offered, “Catherine and I were engaged when we were sixteen.”

“……”

Weren’t they still underage?

She turned her gaze to Family Head Oliver. Given that their marriage had been arranged during a crisis for the Oliver family, it must have been a hasty union.

Family Head Oliver and Mrs. Luo had indeed gone from engagement to marriage in just three months—but—

“Yun Yi and I were childhood sweethearts,” Family Head Oliver said, a flicker of melancholy in his eyes as he thought of his absent wife. “Our marriage was a natural progression. Strictly speaking, it wasn’t an arranged marriage.”

Eve asked skeptically, “…True love?”

That word seemed almost mythical among people of their class.

Family Head Oliver gave a wry chuckle. “At our level, few speak of love—but you could interpret it that way.”

“It seems Eve needs more time to consider. Marriage does require careful thought,” Sparti interjected, seeing Eve’s tense, silent face. “Let the young ones take a walk in the garden and discuss it privately.”

Family Head Oliver smiled. “Of course, consideration is fine. But if Eve is unwilling, I hope she states it clearly sooner rather than later, so we can explore alternatives.”

What difference was there between this and treating Lorca as a commodity for exchange?

Eve’s face instantly darkened. She shot him a glare, seized Lorca’s wrist, and strode out without a backward glance.

Only after both figures had completely vanished did Sparti say helplessly, “She’s quite sensitive. Why provoke her deliberately?”

“All or nothing—it’s a strategy.”

“Alright, don’t be so self-righteous,” Sparti raised his glass and clinked it with Family Head Oliver’s, the crisp sound echoing. He smiled. “Now that the children are gone, we can finally discuss some adult matters, right?”

So they had intentionally sent Eve away.

Family Head Oliver remained composed, gesturing toward the lounge behind him. “Please.”

-

The garden adjoined the banquet hall. Due to its unique architecture and landscaping, filtered through layered shadows of trees and pillars, laughter and chatter from the front hall carried faintly, yet amidst the rustling wind, an unusual quiet prevailed.

Along the path, they passed several young couples seated across from each other on low corridor walls, whispering intimately. When others approached, they conspicuously turned away, like startled lovers.

Eve’s long dress trailed along the gravel path. After descending a few steps, she felt the back of her dress lift. Turning, she saw Lorca had rolled up his sleeves to hold the hem, his other hand gently resting on the red silk ribbon tied at her shoulder.

She looked up and met Lorca’s lowered, earnest gaze. For a moment, only the soft sound of their breathing filled the air. After a brief pause, Lorca spoke softly, “The second time we met was here, at the Medici estate. My wheelchair got stuck in a shallow ditch in the garden, and you helped me pull it out.”

“That was a long time ago,” Eve said. She hadn’t remembered at first, but now it came back. “And you don’t use a wheelchair anymore.”

“No, but I’ve never forgotten.”

As they walked slowly onward, their tall, close silhouettes from behind resembled a couple deeply in love. Yet Lorca knew it was merely coincidence—right place, right time.

Eve frowned slightly, her tone edged with reproach: “Your father doesn’t respect your wishes at all. He’s clearly trading your happiness for family gain. If you’re not willing, you should say so.”

“I *am* willing,” Lorca replied. “Besides, an arranged marriage is part of my duty. Being with you is already the best possible choice.”

Seeing Eve’s continued confusion, he sighed. “Not everyone has the freedom you do—free from family obligations. I’ve benefited from my position for years. It’s only fair I repay that debt.”

A family is a vast machine, and everyone a cog within it. Some dedicate their lives to it; others are born at the peak of privilege and never step down.

It’s both privilege and burden. Speaking it aloud would sound ungrateful, so Lorca only hinted.

He said quietly, “Heavy is the head that wears the crown.”

“…I still don’t think it should be this way,” Eve pressed her lips together, instinctively sensing something wrong but unable to articulate it.

An inexplicable weight settled in her chest. These were issues she’d never considered. Before and after transmigrating into the book, the world’s first lesson—especially for someone with no kin—was the exchange of interests. Though everything Lorca said aligned with her beliefs, Eve still felt something was off.

After a long pause, she said softly, “Families shouldn’t be treated as transactions. I haven’t experienced it myself, but I’ve had friends. I can exchange favors with them, but we never override each other’s will.”

“Make the choice you truly want, Lorca. Those who love you won’t force you. If you can’t refuse them, leave them and come with me—because life belongs to you alone.”

She delivered the entire speech haltingly, as if her heart ached from the effort.

Eve wasn’t emotionally delicate. She lacked sensitivity to art; compared to poetry and painting, she excelled in mechs and alchemy. Empathy didn’t come naturally—like a fish raised without familial warmth, or a plant grown in poisoned soil: resilient, upright, but barren.

She rarely used purely emotional, non-transactional language. This wasn’t just persuasion—she recalled everything she’d seen upon first arriving at the Oliver estate: the gentle, radiant Mrs. Luo; the stern yet accommodating Family Head Oliver; the eccentric but manageable Ludwig; even the attendants’ quiet smiles. Something inside told her Lorca shouldn’t have to sacrifice himself like this.

…Though perhaps there was a flaw in her logic.

Lorca gazed at her intently, his grass-green eyes shimmering with complex emotions. The girl who should have been as cold and resolute as winter was now tangled in hesitation—for him.

Suddenly, he lowered his head. Under Eve’s surprised stare, he rested his forehead against the side of her neck. They were already close—him holding her dress—and now Lorca buried his face like a shy child. When he spoke again, his normally clear, soft voice sounded thick and hoarse.

“Will you support my desires? Acknowledge my choices? See me… as someone worthy of love?”

He asked.

Though nearly echoing her own words, coming from him, it felt different.

“Are you being coy?” Eve found it both amusing and irritating. But considering the ordeal he’d endured tonight, she reluctantly indulged his sudden clinginess and said magnanimously, “Of course. Just be honest with me, and I’ll handle the rest.”

It’s not like she couldn’t survive without the Medici family—just more inconvenient. As for Family Head Oliver, while she couldn’t directly challenge him, he probably only dared say such things when Mrs. Luo wasn’t around.

“Consider alternatives”? Treating his son’s future like a joke. Who knew what had gotten into him today, insisting on such seriousness with the Medici family.

Eve kept her face stern as she calculated inwardly. Meanwhile, Lorca pressed closer, his warm breath brushing the nape of her neck, his hand on her shoulder tightening.

“Xiao Fu, everything I said tonight was sincere.”

Lorca murmured, trying to mask his barely-contained joy with a low, rough voice: “I want to be with you. For me, anything involving you is the best choice.”

“This has nothing to do with arranged marriage—it’s pure, free of anything but ‘love.’ If I can be with you, even giving up my family name means nothing. Long ago, my heart, body, and life should have belonged to you.”

“You can verify every word with a Luna Butterfly. I know you have that ability,” Lorca added, suddenly recalling that Eve’s Psychic State was sealed by Agnes. His heart skipped, but his voice softened further. “You can also test me with an alchemical potion. I’ll drink any potent or lethal brew. If I speak even half a lie, you may kill me anytime.”

Eve froze, stunned. She hadn’t expected such a long, heartfelt confession. The strange sensation pulsing in her chest since earlier surged stronger, overwhelming.

Sensing the stiffness in the body he held, Lorca slowly lifted his head, his cheek pressed against Eve's. When he spoke again, all traces of shyness had vanished, replaced by a cold, icy tone: "Why aren’t you saying anything? Were those words just empty promises, meant to placate me?"

Eve remained silent for a moment, her brow twitching slightly.

"Little Fu..."

Just as Lorca was about to stir up more trouble, Eve raised her hand and pressed a slender finger to the tip of his nose.

"Of course not," Eve gave a low chuckle. "But Lorca, if this marriage alliance with the Medici Family falls through, what’s your backup plan?"

—Of course, they’d just find another matchmaking approach. What else could they do?

Having stayed by Eve’s side for so long, Lorca had mastered the art of never overestimating her emotional intelligence while never underestimating her intellect. The moment she spoke with such sarcasm, he knew it was time to end his pitiful act.

His mind raced, and instead of pulling away, he leaned in even closer, his voice smooth and compliant: "Naturally, I’d just adopt a different persona and come find you again. Sooner or later, you’d find one you like, wouldn’t you?"

But after observing Eve for so long, he knew that beneath her tough exterior lay a gentle heart. The 'poor, pitiful me' act should have been the most effective—he had no idea how she’d seen through it at the final moment.

Lorca sighed inwardly with regret. Next time, if he tried out other personas, he wouldn’t have the advantage he did now.

"Little viper, you’re practically drooling on my neck, still clinging so tight," Eve said with a half-smile as she pushed him away. "Too bad your father hammed it up too much—otherwise, I might have fallen for it. Did you get a kick out of pumping me for information, hmm?"

Her demeanor was more frightening than outright rage. Lorca knew better than to add fuel to the fire and obediently took a few steps back.

"Hmph."

Eve yanked at her skirt and turned to leave, but Lorca caught her retreating hand, his eyes brimming with pitiful appeal: "Then, do your words still hold true?"

"Do you really expect words coaxed through deception and fake helplessness to be genuine?" Eve shot back.

Lorca felt a pang in his heart, and his grip loosened slightly. Eve seized the opportunity to pull her hand back and stomped off coldly by herself. Even as she clattered up the steps and was about to circle back to the hall through the side door, she still hadn’t heard the footsteps of the con man following her.

Bang!

She kicked a pillar angrily and stormed back. Perhaps blinded by rage, she accidentally collided with someone who had just stepped out of the banquet hall at the corner.

“Who’s not watching where they're going?”

Cecil’s head slammed hard against the wall, leaving him dizzy and disoriented. He was about to curse, but when he saw who the “blind” person was, his brows furrowed deeply, and his angry words took a turn: “......Eve?”