"The way of inviting? It's kinda confusing to hear that."

As a doomed-fast antagonist who only survived twenty chapters, Moen had absolutely no idea how he had invited people in the past.

The original owner's memories were too chaotic, and he couldn’t recall anything.

"I remember it was during the academy ball last time."

Not bothered by Moen's forgetfulness, Celicia reminisced,

"You wanted to invite someone to dance. She was the daughter of a viscount. I remember your exact words were like,"

Celicia tilted her head, her elegant brows faintly furrowing.

Though her face remained expressionless as usual, it was clear that she was making an effort to mimic an arrogant demeanor.

"‘Woman, rejoice and be grateful! Me, the young master, has graciously bestowed upon you the honor of dancing with me!’"

"…"

"So? Did I get it right?"

"…"

Beyond just getting it, but my toes are practically curling into the floor for this secondhand embarrassment!

Moen Campbell, of all people, not only did you act like a nuisance, but why did you have to be such a cliché?

The worst, though, was doing it in front of so many people. You no longer possessed this body, but leaving me to deal with the fallout! Great, now I’m embarrassed to death!

"Those are nothing but regrettable moments of the past. Your Highness, please forget them."

Moen chuckled awkwardly and hastened his dance steps to ease the tension.

But Celicia remained graceful and composed. No matter how much Moen deliberately sped up or ignored the rhythm of the music, she's still the control of the dance from start to the end. But it turned out like it was Moen who was following her lead.

Celicia Leopold, truly the ever regal, ever proud White Swan.

No wonder she was the hardest woman to tackle in the original novel.

Moen sighed quietly to himself.

…

When the dance ended, the music faded, bringing the performance to a closure.

A round of enthusiastic applause erupted from the crowd.

Moen ignored the protagonist’s murderous look of jealousy and smiled politely as he bowed to the audience.

Beads of sweat dotted Moen's forehead, yet Celicia appeared utterly unfazed.

"Your Highness looks tired. Shall we find a quiet place for a drink?"

Taking advantage of the still pleasant atmosphere, Moen extended yet another invitation.

"Sure."

Celicia nodded without hesitation this time, agreeing immediately.

Yes!

Though he made an effort to retain a neutral expression, there was no hiding the excitement that was bouncing around inside his mind.

The hardest part is the beginning—successfully arranging some time alone with her meant half success of this battle!

…

"I'm sorry, I don’t drink alcohol."

"Huh? It’s just wine. A little bit wouldn’t hurt…"

"Even wine is out of the question."

Celicia tucked a strand of silver-white hair behind her ear. "I can’t drink alcohol. Not even a drop."

"…"

In this specially prepared room, Moen stared wide-eyed at the bottle of red wine he had already spiked.

She doesn’t drink? Not even wine?

Then how’s he supposed to drug her?

Recalling, he realized the original novel indeed never mentioned Celicia could ever drink alcohol, so her inability to drink wasn’t too out of the blue.

And in the original story, Moen Campbell had drugged tea, ultimately rendering Celicia defenseless.

Moen could have simply done the same.

But there was one glaring problem: the drug he purchased was bright red!

As red as blood!

Wouldn’t it be glaringly obvious once it was mixed into tea?

"Is there any problem?" Celicia asked.

"No... nothing. If alcohol is off the table, then what would Your Highness prefer to drink?"

"Coffee—"

"Only red tea."

"...?"

"I said only red tea."

Staring directly into Celicia’s eyes, Moen spoke with utmost sincerity, "Due to some certain uncontrollable circumstances tonight, besides wine and red tea, there are no other beverages available."

"Only red tea?"

Celicia’s perpetually ice-cold expression revealed a trace of surprise. But rather than suspecting foul play, she simply assumed Moen had failed to prepare adequately.

"Then red tea it is."

"Thank you."

Moen wiped a bead of sweat from his brow and got off to prepare the tea.

"Wait."

Celicia suddenly stopped him, her icy gaze flickering faintly with suspicion.

"You're going to prepare it yourself?"

"Yes. Is there a problem?"

"…No."

Celicia shook her head lightly. "I’m just surprised. Young Master Moen is willing to do something usually left to the maids?"

Damn, she’s suspicious!

Moen froze inwardly but maintained a calm expression, replying with a smile, "I have no choice. The maids at the Duke’s mansion are exceptionally busy tonight, even my personal maid can’t spare herself. So, for small tasks like this, I have to handle them myself."

"Fair enough."

Celicia nodded, as if in agreement.

"Then I'm looking forward to it, Moen’s personally prepared tea."

…

"Celicia really isn’t to be underestimated."

Outside the room, Moen wiped his sweat nervously, staring at the awkward brew he had concocted.

If hadn't been so mentally strong, his behavior might have betrayed him.

"And who said this step was supposed to be simple? Clearly the parts not written in the book are the hardest!"

Moen clenched his teeth. Who knew the so-called world-line correction had nothing to do with him as a minor role? He had nearly botched the plan because of an unexpected detail about Celicia.

"But at this point, there's no turning back!"

Moen pulled out two drug bottles from his pocket.

"Red tea is red anyway; it shouldn’t be noticeable. As for this additional ‘gift’..."

Moen opened the bottle of mystery powder the unscrupulous shopkeeper had thrown in as a freebie. The contents were white and appeared to be fully water-soluble.

"Not sure what it’s for, but since the shopkeeper said it would enhance the effect, it’s probably meant to strengthen the potency."

"Screw it! Both come!"

"Let’s just pray Celicia drinks it before she realizes anything strange."

"Ha ha, Your Highness, with intelligence like yours, don’t blame me for pulling out all the stops!"

Holding the spiked red tea, Moen unconsciously revealed a sinister smile—completely befitting of a villain.

…

"Your Highness, your tea."

Like a seasoned attendant, Moen presented the meticulously doctored red tea to Celicia with elegant grace.

"Thank you."

Celicia accepted the tea politely, just not rushing to drink it, but carefully surveying it..

"Moen, your red tea… is awfully red."

"Red tea is meant to be red, isn’t it?" Moen retorted with a smile.

"Is it? But the red tea I usually drink is a pale red."

"That's probably because tea comes from different places. For example, Nortan oranges might be smaller than those from Nansale but sweeter. Similarly, red tea from different regions might have slight variations in color."

"That makes sense."

Celicia still hadn’t taken a sip, though. She simply raised her icy blue eyes to meet Moen’s gaze directly.

"In that case—why doesn’t Young Master Moen try the tea first?"