Marry me, Commoner!

"You, be my fiancé!" Heads turned, including the crimson-haired male. Nyx Orpheus, son of a mere common merchant, could not believe his eyes when they landed on a pair of bloodred irises—very much like his. "Me?" His question is met with a disapproving click of the girl's tongue as if to tell him how dumb he was. "Yes, you, the side character!" Nobles always thought of themselves as beings above those with nothing to their name, and it would seem like the youngest daughter of the ducal household of Derule is no different. Priscilla Ver Derule, sporting long hair as black as the night and doe-like eyes the color of blood, each sparkling like rubies yet piercing and unnerving to look at. She is rumored to be chosen as the kingdom's crown princess. However, now that her bold declaration is heard by most, if not all, of the students—all made up of the rich and the nobles—in the magic academy, the idea would cause a disruption. The said girl snapped a finger in front of him, impatient at his lack of response. Nyx only stared at her, unsure of what to say, and no one could blame him. The red-haired youth had always made sure he was out of anyone's way, having issues with nobles in particular. With their arrogant nature and shallow outlook in life, it is safe to say Nyx is not fond of them—or at least most of them. "So? What is your answer?" Having no definitive answer, Nyx instead asked, "Are you sure you want to marry me?" "I wouldn't have asked you if I wasn't," came Priscilla's blunt reply, matched with a roll of her eyes. "Now, please do tell me you agree, my life is on the line." The duke's daughter came off as rude and assertive, or at least that is what most think, and even they could feel pity towards the commoner. And when Priscilla grew disappointed, thinking the crimson-haired male might reject the idea of marriage, the sudden curve of his lips caused her to do a double-take. A subtle smirk now decorated his face, not too noticeable, but it certainly gave the dark-haired girl the chills. "I don't really know what this has to do with life or death, but no taking back okay?" He gave a smile, his red eyes glittering, but only Priscilla could tell this was all for show. Underneath that angel-like face is a horn of a devil. For a moment, Priscilla could almost feel regret seeping in, but there was no going back now, not with her life on the line. "You are going to die at the hands of the crown prince." She can vividly recall everything that Lizette Derule—the supposed blonde-haired heroine of the novel, as she said—her cousin, had told her. Marry the prince and she shall meet her demise, such a bold claim without basis would have earned her Priscilla's wrath, yet the dark-haired girl could not shake off the feeling that Lizette's words have nothing but the truth in it. Lizette's status is that of a mere count's daughter, and her being an illegitimate child from an affair adds salt to the wound. Society greatly looks down upon her mere existence, and she would not be allowed the same luxury that Priscilla gets to bask in. Meeting certain nobles of higher rank including the crown prince would be impossible. "The story is yet to start. At the ball where even I am allowed to attend, all our paths will cross, signifying the beginning of the tale." The only upcoming ball Priscilla can think of is Prince Ergoth's official public appearance, in front of Elenea's citizens. He who only went out for official duties, often with those of high status, now shows himself to the entirety of Elenea. It will be on his birthday when he turns eighteen, it will also be where the villainess of the novel—Priscilla—asserts herself and successfully wins her place as Elenea's crown princess. It baffled the dark-haired girl how Lizette was able to have knowledge about her plans. The blonde-haired girl has yet to see or meet the prince, yet she described him in perfect detail—or at least it was from the novel's description. Blue hair, an equally striking pair of blue eyes, a lean body on the taller side, and skin the color of snow. While it was true that Priscilla is vying for Crown Prince Ergoth's affection, even she could tell the love she felt is superficial—having liked him for his looks the first time she saw him, not really given much time to get to know the blue-haired prince of the kingdom of Elenea. Having no interest in others, it was not a bad idea to aim higher and establish the Derule name further. After all, being a family where most of the kingdom's military power comes from, it would not be hard to win a spot as the next queen, given their close connection to the royal family. However, the problem comes in with her dying. Of course, Priscilla values her life. Who doesn't? More political influence may no longer be necessary, she reckoned as opposed to her previous line of thought. And now, she is dead set on avoiding the said prince. What harm would it bring her to marry a commoner? For one, her father and mother wouldn't be able to say no to her, given she is the spoiled youngest daughter and thus, will not be the next heir of the Derule dukedom. Inhaling deeply, Priscilla confidently declared, "There will be no taking back once we both get engaged." ...Or so she hopes after witnessing Nyx's smirk turn into an unnerving smile, his red eyes glinting coldly. It is as if he had found his prey, and he refuses to let it go. For giving him her undivided attention out of nowhere, Nyx hid his lips curving upwards in amusement behind his hand. To think the youngest daughter of a prestigious ducal household would propose to him, a mere merchant's heir, a commoner who finds nobles on their thrones distasteful. "A-anyway!" The girl cleared her throat and thrust a hand out for him to take—Lizette said people in her world use a handshake as a greeting. "I am Priscilla Ver Derule, youngest daughter of the Derule dukedom. Please take care of me from now on." As expected, the crimson-haired male stared at her hand, unsure of what she was expecting him to do. He racked his brain for what the gesture could mean, only for him to come up with one answer. The youth scoffed quietly to himself. Typical nobles. Still, he ought to comply, he can't let the girl slip past him after all. Gently, his fairly large hands grasped Priscilla's smaller one. Nyx made sure he never broke eye contact and ever so slowly raised her hand close to his lips. He wanted to laugh after seeing Priscilla squirm—as if to tell him to hurry it up, but really, Priscilla just wasn't expecting such a gesture instead of the intended handshake—but held back, wanting to play along. Nyx isn't stupid, he knows there is a story behind this unexpected proposal. However, that is not to say that he will let go of her. No matter what the circumstances are, she is now his. Priscilla's brows jumped when the young lad went down on one knee, his other hand that wasn't gripping hers so tightly placed on his chest. "I, Nyx Orpheus, a mere merchant's son, dedicate my life to you, milady." The crimson-haired male ended his declaration by planting another swift kiss on the back of her hand—slightly reddened from the way he gripped it tightly, a warning, perhaps. Gasps resonated across the hallway, just outside their classroom. Even Priscilla let out a noise of disbelief, she should be leaping in joy, yet the dark-haired girl only turned to where she had last seen her cousin, questioning whether this was the correct course of action. Lizette, with her golden locks not easily missed in a crowd of dull colors, only stared wide-eyed at the scene playing out in front of her. While she did warn Priscilla to avoid getting involved with the crown prince, she certainly did not mean for her to instead propose to the second male lead! "Uh…congratulations?" She offered, albeit in the form of a question. Uncertainty was heavily laced in her tone, and it did not give Priscilla the comfort she expected. Nyx did not fail to miss the exchange between the two ladies, sparking curiosity within him. Nonetheless, he did not let his smile falter, the events of today are enough to put him in high spirits. This unforeseen turn of events shall prove to be most entertaining. He stood up, moved closer, and whispered near her ear, "You better tell me everything, princess." His pair of red irises held a devilish glint as opposed to the smile he gave and the menacing tone he used upon telling her that. Priscilla gulped, however, she cannot deny him, not when he still had her hand in an iron grip. Even when squeals resonated at the seemingly intimate act, Priscilla could only think of one thing: Does he, perhaps, have caught on to her plan? Elenea's Prestigious Academy of Magic only accepts those noble of birth, unless one is filthy rich. That is who Nyx Orpheus is, with his unique red eyes like hers; and his bluntness that had his name whispered in disdain everywhere he goes. Priscilla has a large social circle, albeit she sees none of them as friends, but more of a connection to benefit their ducal household, but she digresses. Nyx, since he started as a freshman in the academy as the only commoner, had successfully made enemies with most, if not all, of the noblemen. One exception would be the crown prince of the kingdom himself, Prince Ergoth II of Elenea. It is due to this bizarre fact that no one had tried retaliating against this sly commoner. But even if he was not acquainted with the kingdom’s crown prince, Nyx, as what Priscilla has observed and heard, is a jack of all trades when it comes to his magical abilities as well as his skills with the sword. Having said all that, there is no doubt he and his father—the current head of Orpheus Trading—are trusted by a large number of citizens, whether they were the rich, the knights, or the adventurers. “What ever do you mean, Sir Nyx?” Priscilla, nonetheless, held her head up high, feigning confidence when all she wanted to do is run back to her cousin, Lizette. “Please, save me the crap. You’re a bad actor Lady Priscilla,” he replied, all the while retaining that unnerving smile on his lips. "Though I suppose I do find this amusing, so I will gladly play along." The dark-haired girl could only purse her lips. The young man before her is widely known for being observant—or rather, cautious; and so there is no doubt he is highly intelligent, a devil that she had been underestimating. It came as a shock that he did not reject her, and so did he, for he did not expect her to shift her affections from Ergoth to him. In Nyx's eyes, the girl is not any different from the rest of those above: arrogant, selfish, foolish. Growing up in a military family, the young lad is correct to not underestimate Priscilla's skills with the sword and magic, yet he can never take her seriously, not when he views nobles as shallow. Nevertheless, the crimson-haired male is looking forward to having her prove him wrong in the long run—if this silly little proposal does last long, and the prospect of marriage never really bothered Nyx. And while he does find them distasteful, a lick of political power would do him no harm so long as he is careful. Putting that aside, it would seem as though the squeals from earlier turned to whispers that Nyx could only recognize as disdain, as if they had just remembered who he and the lady before him were. While Priscilla is a duke's daughter, it was no secret that she isn't popular among her peers. With her brutish way of handling every problem that comes her way, often resorting to violence with her sharp blade in the forefront, and not to forget her domineering presence, Nyx often finds himself not wanting to get involved with her more than the others. Although, if he had to pick a noble he can stand, excluding Ergoth, his thoughts would gravitate to Priscilla and her blunt nature, just as he prefers. So he has heard about her, but he did not give as much as a glance her way, and she, with him. A commoner is never worth anyone's time. At least, not until now.