The essence of "Cinderella" was the pure, unguarded affection that Viviana suppressed deep within herself. In her day-to-day life, Viviana's soft and delicate face rarely showed any expression, her gorgeous violet eyes perpetually carrying a faint, lingering melancholy.
Like a doll, almost entirely.
She had long grown accustomed to hiding her emotions beneath the surface. After opening her heart to Faust, she had indeed become more proactive, willing to let slip the occasional heartfelt confession, and prone to dropping what could only be described as gravity-defying declarations of devotion, speaking of forever as casually as breathing.
But even that was not enough. Viviana was still reining herself in.
You could tell just from her behavior in this moment how tightly she was holding herself back.
The pale golden-haired girl bit her lower lip softly and shook her head.
"I cannot break my promise. Besides, you shouldn't be particularly eager to see her either."
Does she think I'm afraid of "Cinderella"? Oh come on, don't underestimate me!
In the past, Faust might have harbored some wariness, but after being put through Mistoria's rigorous training, something of a warrior's spirit seemed to have been hammered into him, along with the will to charge headfirst into difficulty.
How can there be anything in this world that I'm afraid of? Desensitization training, more of it, I say!
"Didn't you say you were going to court me? If you keep this up, neither hot nor cold, it'll be very hard to move my heart, you know."
Seeing that Viviana still resisted, Faust curved the corner of his mouth and smiled.
"I think she's quite adorable, honestly."
Viviana's gorgeous violet eyes went wide. "A-Adorable?"
"Like a soft, pillowy, sweet little honey cake. Could I take a bite?"
Faust knew his childhood friend's tastes well. Given her earnest nature, if he offered flowery poetry or refined flattery, she'd probably just compose verses right back at him. No, what she needed was exactly this kind of wonderfully cheesy line that made your skin prickle with secondhand embarrassment.
"...I understand. Please wait a moment."
The girl, cheeks flushed crimson, rose to her feet and fled the room.
---
[That's right, this is precisely what you should be doing. The greed of a witch's fate when it comes to love knows no end. Their power and their heart are inseparable. Bind your fate to the witch's as thoroughly as you can, just as your fate is bound to mine. Only then will you have the footing to defy destiny.]
Mephisto, for once, wore no smirk or playful grin. His tone was grave and sincere as he commended Faust's approach.
Faust: "Oh wow, fate-binding. Should've done that ages ago."
There was something both Faust and Mephisto understood without needing to say it aloud: the root of everything was the prince's unique constitution, that of one beloved by witches.
Only by drawing a [Witch] into their camp, and relying on the enormous weight such a figure carried in the weave of fate, was there any chance of avoiding being crushed beneath destiny's wheel.
Put plainly, shamelessly riding the coattails of a witch's protagonist-level plot armor.
[As for the witch's fate tied to your fiancée, I still haven't fully worked it out, what kind of reality-warping power destiny has actually granted her.]
[On that front, even my considerable knowledge is of no use to you. We Fae are simply not permitted to peer into the mysteries of witches.]
"Don't worry. I'll figure it out myself."
The prince of Aurum soaked quietly in the bath for a while longer, then stepped out of the bathroom.
The moment he emerged, his usual retinue of maids was nowhere to be seen, not a single one had come to receive him.
Needless to say, that was Viviana's doing.
"Your Highness... Faust... behind you. I'm right here."
Just as the prince finished fastening his coat, a pair of soft little hands climbed onto his shoulders, and warm breath carrying the faint fragrance of orchids drifted against his earlobe.
The sweetly honeyed voice sent a shiver straight through Faust. He turned around.
Standing behind him was unmistakably Viviana, or rather, Viviana wearing the mask of [Cinderella].
A white-gold off-shoulder dress revealed the girl's delicate collarbones and her luminously fair skin beneath.
The design was nothing like an elaborate, ornate formal gown. It was simply rendered in soft, pale lines, and yet it left an impression of freshness and brilliance that struck the senses cleanly.
Her slightly golden hair was gathered into a side ponytail, and with no strands falling to obscure her face, that breathtakingly beautiful countenance was laid fully bare.
Just as Cinderella had appeared on that very first night she attended the banquet, a visual impact so stunning it perfectly embodied the meaning of love at first sight.
Faust's eyes lit up involuntarily.
"That dress..."
Cinderella pinched the hem of her skirt and spun a slow circle before him, smiling.
"Well? Is it pretty?"
Faust nodded. "No exaggeration, it really is."
The everyday Viviana invariably wore her finely crafted knight's uniform: fitted waist, a cape draped over her shoulders, long boots beneath, the whole ensemble wrapping her up properly and seriously from head to toe.
Not that it could be said to look bad. Paired with the girl's melancholic, cool-toned air, it suited her remarkably well. But the problem was that Viviana only ever wore variations of that one style, all cut from essentially the same cloth.
Even Faust owned a more varied wardrobe of formal wear than this young woman in the prime of her youth.
Cinderella, without question, was the complete opposite extreme. There was none of Viviana's otherworldly aloofness about her.
On the contrary, Faust had seen his share of beautiful women, yet he had never encountered one who radiated such an overwhelming sense of girlish charm.
"I made this myself. Completely unlike that boring creature with no sense of romance. No matter how naturally beautiful you are, you still have to take care of how you present yourself."
"After all, I want you to see me at my very best."
Cinderella stretched languidly before the full-length mirror, snapped her fingers, and a gold-and-crimson sash materialized from nothing and draped itself from her shoulder.
That effortless, offhand display left Faust staring with his jaw slack.
"Wait, where did that dress come from?"
The golden-haired girl blinked her clear, beautiful eyes with perfect innocence. "I conjured it."
Cinderella clasped her hands behind her back, leaning forward with a grin.
"The dress and glass slippers from before, the unicorn carriage, all of it was conjured the same way. Just like this, whoosh."
The girl snapped her fingers with bright, breezy energy.
Ding ding, clatter clatter.
Brooches, pendants, earrings, gemstones, pearls, one after another, in every shape and variety, rained down onto the carpet.
Creating something from nothing? Manifesting objects from empty space?
The laws of thermodynamics no longer exist!
Faust nearly buckled at the knees, on the verge of dropping to the floor in reverence before what appeared to be a creator deity sampling mortal life for the experience.
Fortunately, Cinderella caught his face gently in her hands and let out a soft, wistful sigh.
"These things all have a time limit, though. When my beautiful dream ends, they vanish like bubbles, as though they were never there."
A time limit? Well, that was a relief. That was something he could work with, at least it could be explained through mystical principles.
Faust's dignity and his composure were salvaged by those words. He reached out and gripped the golden-haired girl's arm firmly, asking Mephisto inwardly:
"Is this Viviana's reality-warping power, then?"
[Perhaps. Perhaps not.]
"Mephisto, I'm asking you a direct question."
[Mephisto doesn't know~!]
The Fae had given up entirely.
And of course, even a Fae of ancient standing was useless here. Mephisto, who would say practically anything, harbored a bone-deep wariness when it came to [Witches].
As Faust shook his head and muttered internally about the hopeless Fae, a low, burning murmur reached his ears.
"Your Highness, my dear Faust, are you always this... passionate?"
Only then did Faust realize he was gripping Cinderella in a vice-like hold. She, utterly unbothered by the prince's rough handling, turned to him with a languid, alluring gaze.
"It seems you really do like me quite a lot."