When Mephisto saw what Faust had written on the paper, it didn't hold back its praise:
[Fate is not something easily fathomed. Even those who have awakened instinctively maintain a sense of reverence, unable to predict fate's trajectory due to fear and confusion.
Yet you... it's as if you knew the full picture from the very beginning, without a trace of foolishness]
"Well, if you put it that way, then yes, I did know the full picture ahead of time. Who would've thought? After all this, turns out I'm something of a prophet in this regard."
Faust laughed. "Mephisto, do you think my analysis is correct?"
[Who can say? We Fae do not speculate on fate, nor do we pass judgment on it, especially not on a Witch's fate... However, since you were able to break free from the Witch's fate, I'll trust your judgment]
Mephisto's ethereal tone seemed to carry hidden meaning, though Faust chose to take it as agreement. He stood up and stretched.
By now, dawn had broken. Soft morning light poured through the window into the bedroom. Faust had stayed up all night.
Of course, after being bombarded by so many events the previous evening, sleep would have been impossible anyway.
The prince gathered his notes, then left the bedroom carrying the glass slipper.
"Your Highness!"
"Your Highness! Are you alright?"
"Did you... not rest at all last night?"
"......"
The moment Faust stepped out, he was surrounded by a cluster of attendants in the corridor. From the looks of it, they'd been standing guard there all night.
Not that he couldn't understand why. After all, the life and death, honor and disgrace of everyone under his command were tied to his own. They couldn't afford any accidents.
"There's no official business today, Your Highness. You could rest a while longer."
The attendants observed Faust's complexion, urging him carefully.
Faust waved them off with a smile.
"I already told you I'm fine. On the contrary, I'm feeling great right now. In fact, I need you all to do something for me. You're going to be quite busy."
His subordinates hastily pledged their loyalty:
"Please, give us your orders. Through fire and water, we will not refuse!"
"It's nothing so dramatic. I need you to bring me my princess."
"Yes, which family's daughter have you chosen? We'll make preparations immediately."
Faust held up the glass slipper. "Whoever can wear this shoe will be my princess."
"?"
............
Though the prince's request seemed rather abstract, the officials under Faust's command carried it out anyway.
Why question it? Did the prince need to explain his choice of bride? This was just a small indulgence of power.
Even before his awakening, Faust had intended to turn the kingdom upside down to find Cinderella. Now he was simply putting that plan into action.
And "Cinderella" had hinted before leaving that he should come find her himself.
In any case, to advance the "script" further, he absolutely had to find her. After careful consideration, Faust decided to keep pretending he was still under her enchantment.
He made no secret of his purpose: to search the entire kingdom for the mysterious girl from that night. Even though everyone in the know understood this, applicants still came in droves.
After all, the prince only said that whoever wore the shoe would be his princess. He hadn't named anyone specifically.
A promise made by royalty couldn't possibly be broken, right?
It didn't even have to be a noblewoman. If a commoner could seize this opportunity, she too might become princess.
No matter how custom-made, shoes were bound to fit some people. This opportunistic thinking was only natural.
And so a long queue formed before the palace. One after another, young women arrived, dressed to the nines, youthful and radiant, confident they would be the lucky chosen one blessed by destiny.
However, what left everyone speechless was that out of about a hundred who tried, not a single person could fit into that glass slipper.
The size seemed perfectly normal, yet when it came time to try it on, problems kept arising.
Either toes would jam against it, or the heel wouldn't fit in. No matter what, it simply wouldn't work.
Every failure was treated like a funeral. Some sobbed uncontrollably, some fainted on the spot, and others screamed before trying to lunge at Faust...
Even worse, some directly cut off their own heels and toes, trying to force the shoe on despite the blood.
"No! Let me try again! Let me try again!"
"I'm the future princess! I am!! Hahaha!!"
"Your Highness! Your Highness! See? I got it on!"
"......."
After such self-mutilation, the shoe did indeed go on, but the court attendants couldn't keep it together anymore.
They looked toward Prince Aurum awkwardly.
"Your Highness, this..."
Faust frowned and waved his hand. "What kind of spectacle is this? Take her away! Keep the scene under control. I don't want to see this happen again!"
After strictly forbidding any further self-harm, Faust temporarily left the scene. He realized that his continued presence only made the atmosphere more frenzied.
"Something's definitely wrong."
The prince stroked his chin thoughtfully.
"No matter how popular I am, they shouldn't be this crazy. Is this also part of the Witch's fate?"
Such chaotic scenes could only make Faust think of the Witch's Feast at work, just like how he'd been hopelessly infatuated with Cinderella before. It had the unreasonable effect of twisting people's hearts.
"By the way... aside from being fate's favorites, what about Witches in terms of personal strength?"
Faust suddenly thought of a rather crucial question and asked the Fae.
If ordinary Heroes had the power to accomplish great deeds, then Witches should be similar, right?
[Hard to say. Fate only grants Witches the highest tier of mysticism, guaranteeing they'll achieve happiness.
Some can turn the world upside down, while others remain village girls their entire lives. Either way, I'd still advise you to be careful]
Faust blinked. "What do you mean? Am I actually in danger?"
[I'm simply noting that throughout history, Witches have had rather... difficult personalities]
Mephisto evaded the question, which for a Fae was already a subtle warning.
"Could I die?"
[It's not impossible]
Faust nodded silently, understanding the implication.
He hadn't taken personal safety very seriously before. After all, Faust was mystical nobility. By convention, even world-shaking powerhouses had to show him some respect.
"To be safe, I should probably get a bodyguard."
Just as Faust was thinking this, an attendant beside him stepped forward and said quietly:
"Your Highness, Lady Viviana has arrived."
"Ha, perfect timing."
The corner of Faust's mouth lifted as he immediately looked up.
He spotted the guard walking straight toward him at a glance.
It was an extremely striking figure.
Silver light armor covered her arms and knees, while a black undergarment strained against the full, proud swell of her chest, standing defiantly upright in open defiance of gravity.
Her cloak bore the Aurum crest embroidered in golden thread.
A pale blue belt cinched her slender waist, while her rounded, long legs, impossibly straight, were wrapped in form-fitting pants.
As for the girl's face, most of it was hidden by the hood attached to her cloak. Only the lower half was visible, but even so, from her snow-white, delicate chin and elegant nose, one could tell this was undoubtedly a girl of stunning beauty.
In fact, that was exactly the case. As her childhood friend, Faust had the most authority to say so.
"Your Highness, good day."
The guard stopped before the prince, placing one hand lightly over her full, proud chest as she bowed in greeting.
Pale golden locks spilled from the gap in her hood, cascading casually over her shoulders.