“Do you have any last words, Ewan Campbell?”

At this very moment, just as Ariel had so confidently—and incorrectly—predicted, Celicia had Ewan pinned firmly beneath her.

The “ravaging” was over.

After a fierce battle of unknown duration that had raged from the sofa to the floor, knocking over tables, shattering teacups, and leaving the fine wool carpet in a state of utter devastation, a ceasefire had finally been called. Both combatants were completely spent, the effects of the potion finally purged from Celicia’s system.

But the strange, sweet, musky scent lingering in the air, the undeniable evidence of their struggle scattered around the room, and the two still-naked bodies all bore silent witness to the intensity of the battle that had taken place.

The battle was over. All that remained… was the final, grim reckoning.

Celicia remained in the same intimate, dominant position, but the bewitching flush had long since vanished from her exquisite face. It was now a mask of pure, murderous frost as she stared down at him, her eyes glittering with a chillingly clear killing intent.

Her slender, delicate fingers wrapped around his neck, tightening, bit by agonizing bit, as she repeated her earlier question. “State your last words. This is the final chance you will ever have.”

“Well…” Ewan, looking utterly drained and physically broken, managed to crack a smile that was somehow even uglier than a sob. “Does that mean if I don’t say anything, I won’t have to die?”

“It seems you still fail to grasp the gravity of your situation.”

A terrifying chill, sharp and deadly, suddenly bloomed from her fingertips. It instantly engulfed half of Ewan’s body, bringing with it a stabbing, needle-like pain… and the very real shadow of death.

It hit him then. This woman was genuinely going to kill him, and she wasn’t going to hesitate for a second. Even after the… beautiful, earth-shattering connection they had just shared.

“Wait, wait! I’ll talk! For the love of the gods, let me speak!” Ewan couldn’t help but cry out as pure, unadulterated terror flooding his veins. “I had a reason for doing this!”

“Hah. A reason?” Celicia sneered, her voice dripping with ice. “I am simply dying to hear what reason could possibly compel a man to commit an act more beastly than any animal.”

“Because… because…” Ewan’s mind spun at a thousand miles per hour, desperately searching for an excuse. Reincarnation? Fate? A prophetic dream? All of it would sound like the ravings of a madman. He needed something believable! Something solid! Like he’d tripped over his own feet and accidentally dropped the aphrodisiac into the tea. Or that it wasn’t an aphrodisiac at all, but a revolutionary new diet supplement that promoted vigorous exercise. Or that this was all just a shared dream!

But the words that tumbled out of his mouth were something else entirely.

“It’s because I’m in love with you, Celicia!”

“Eh?”

“Ah.”

Celicia was visibly, genuinely stunned. But she wasn’t the only one. Ewan himself was completely and utterly baffled.

WHAT IN THE SEVEN HELLS AM I SAYING?!

Okay, so in his past life, he’d been a massive fan of the character Celicia. So what if he’d bought her official life-sized poster and taped it to his wall so she would be the first thing he saw every morning? That didn’t mean he was actually in love with her! He couldn’t possibly have fallen for a fictional character this quickly! He wasn’t one of those kinds of hopeless nerds who called 2D drawings their “waifu”! This wasn’t just a Freudian slip; this was a catastrophic, full-system, verbal meltdown!

Wait a minute. Could this be the original Ewan’s influence? He vaguely remembered that the original character had been genuinely, head-over-heels in love with her. After all, if he hadn’t been, he wouldn’t have cooked up such a monumentally stupid plan in the first place.

Damn you, you dead bastard! Stop trying to drag me down to hell with you! Ewan screamed internally.

But… since he’d already said it… Normally, when a girl is suddenly confessed to, she’s supposed to get a little flustered, right? A desperate, primal urge to survive sparked a tiny, insane flicker of hope in his chest. Could this actually work?

…

“I see. So that is your disgusting excuse?” Celicia’s cold composure returned in a flash. Her hands never left his neck, and she seemed completely, utterly unmoved by his “confession.” As for the “flustered” part, Ewan, pinned helplessly beneath her, was a far better fit for that description.

“Disgusting?” Ewan managed a weak, pained grin. “Well, in a certain sense, you could say it’s a very… sincere emotion…”

“You dare call this sincere?” Celicia cut him off, her voice like the crack of a glacier. “Stealing a maiden’s purity and calling it sincere? Are you joking, Ewan Campbell?! If you truly loved me, you would have stood before me honorably! You would have used your character, your strength, and your true heart to win my affection like a man! Not resorted to this despicable, cowardly act of drugging me! If you had done that, even if I still did not love you, I might have honored our engagement and become your wife. But now…”

“Heh. Or did you naively believe that a mere physical connection could make me develop some special feelings for you? No, Ewan Campbell. I will never love a despicable coward who relies on schemes and tricks. And I will never, ever, marry a beast.”

She leaned down, her face just inches from his. They could feel each other’s breath, just as they had a short, chaotic while ago. But this time, what Ewan felt was completely different.

Through her icy blue eyes, as cold and clear as a frozen lake at midnight, Ewan thought he could see something else, something hidden deep within their depths.

It was a burning, sacred, impossibly bright white flame.

That’s right. This is who she is.

This is Celicia von Leopold.

The main heroine of the story. Just like the tagline on the poster he’d bought had said.

—She is the ever-proud, ever-pure white swan, who will never yield to any evil or filth.

And so, even now, naked and compromised, she was still a queen in her finest regalia, looking down upon a lowly, pathetic sinner.

“So beautiful…” Gazing at the angelic, wrathful face so close to his, Ewan couldn’t help but whisper the words, his voice full of awe.

“Well, now that you’ve had your final say, it is time for you to depart, Lord Ewan.” Hearing his whisper, but showing no change in her resolute expression, Celicia began to tighten her grip.

“I hope that in your next life, you will remember my words and seek a love that is true.”

“Farewell…”