I’m Stuck on a Remote Island With the Male Leads - Side Story 10

***

Arthdal was staying in the guest room at the Floné residence, with Ruzef in the adjoining room. He had finished all the preparations for the coronation, at least his own tasks. Although many complex procedures remained until the day of the coronation, he had omitted them.

“I should be grateful they even made it fit,” he mused to himself.

Court etiquette? Arthdal had no intention of adhering to those outdated customs. More accurately, he planned to eliminate the unnecessary ones and reorganize all the regulations. He had rooted out and destroyed those who had offered him as a sacrifice to Alea Island. Most were high nobles and royals who valued such lofty court etiquette.

The only reason Arthdal had donned that repulsive crown again was for the people. A new era had already dawned upon the world, and the very foundations of civilization needed to change.

Arthdal set aside his thoughts and recalled the incident from earlier, specifically how Enoch appeared to be hiding something from Margaret.

‘There are already rumors that the Langridge Crown Prince is preparing to propose to the second lady of Floné,’ he thought, ‘yet Margaret seems unaware.’

Hmm. Arthdal lounged lazily on the sofa on the terrace, chin in hand, gazing out the window. It seemed that everyone was conspiring to keep Margaret in the dark. Even the maids were careful not to mention anything in front of her.

The secret everyone was keeping was that Enoch planned to propose to Margaret on the day of the Fireworks Festival. If even Arthdal, from a distant country, knew, it meant everyone who should know already did. The commoners in the streets were quietly cheering for Enoch’s proposal without causing a fuss, showing just how trusted and loved he was as the crown prince of the empire.

‘Given his oppressed childhood, this could be quite a fitting reward.’

Arthdal was well aware of the arduous and miserable childhood Enoch had endured. The Langridge royals were relentless, destroying everything Enoch cared about, isolating and breaking him. Enoch had been broken during his childhood. He lost all his “people” on the battlefield. Did he have the luxury to consider Margaret’s obsessive love?

Waking up on that isolated island might have been a turning point for Enoch. Confronting the changed Margaret in that secluded space had completely altered his life.

As Arthdal pondered deeply, he found himself reflecting on the woman named Margaret once more. She was a woman with a hidden, radiant side that no one knew about, concealed within a shell of prejudice. She had shattered that shell with her strength and ultimately saved Enoch with her light.

Arthdal remembered overhearing Margaret say to her maid,

“The Hestia Crown Prince? He looks like he could make quite a few women cry. He is incredibly handsome, though. But he still doesn’t compare to our Prince Enoch’s beauty.”

He once overheard this when Margaret came to the Royal Academy to see Enoch. He should have been displeased, but hearing it made him feel oddly proud. Wasn’t he acknowledged for his looks by the mad lady chasing Enoch around like crazy? Foolishly delighted by it.

But when he finally met Margaret face-to-face, he was a little surprised. Her elegant and beautiful face, as if sculpted delicately by the gods, captivated his gaze. Her hair, woven like golden threads, was dazzlingly radiant, and her eyes, like lakes encased in glass orbs, were mesmerizing.

That’s what he thought until—

‘The moment she opened her mouth.’

“What’s this crazy girl up to again!”

Arthdal recalled Margaret suddenly cursing and running past him, grabbing and assaulting the lady who was flirting with Enoch.

‘Her face and personality have never matched, then or now.’

Arthdal shook his head and leisurely sat on the sofa, once again scanning the amusing work guidelines of the Floné residence. He had slyly picked up the discarded paper, thinking it might be fun to read again.

3. Lady Margaret’s room is located in the west wing on the third floor, rooms 1-5. If Lady Margaret is found sleeping in the garden in the middle of the night, quietly move her back to her room.

The cautionary note about Margaret was particularly amusing.

‘Sleeping in the garden? How endearing.’

There were much more extreme things done on that remote island, so it seemed weak to have such warnings. The staff at the Floné residence were a bit soft compared to their lady.

Arthdal propped his chin and read the note over and over. An unconscious smile crept onto his lips.

‘Still, if it’s a side effect of escaping, that could be a problem.’

Just then, he suddenly felt unexpected pain in his eye. It was the eye he had lost on the island.

“Damn, what’s this?” Arthdal furrowed his brow and pressed the eyepatch firmly. He sensed an unfamiliar energy stirring in the distance, and it felt as though the eye, once imbued with magic, was attempting to activate again.

Arthdal raised his head and looked beyond the terrace. Across the Arden River lay the old city, with the towering mage tower in plain view.

‘It couldn’t be, yet it feels as though the pain in my eye originated from that tower,’ he thought, perplexed.

That was where Kayden, who had become a transcendent and entered hibernation, was sealed.

Knock, knock.

At that moment, someone knocked on the door.

“Prince Arthdal? Are you there?” It was Margaret.

At his permission, she carefully opened the door and entered. Margaret shuffled in awkwardly, flashing a sheepish smile.

“What’s the matter? The lady has come to find me in secret,” Arthdal teased with a sly grin, prompting Margaret to frown.

“I didn’t come secretly. It sounds strange when you put it like that,” she replied, shaking her head.

Arthdal shrugged. Whatever the case, it was almost the first time Margaret had sought him out in this manner, and he was pleased.

“I wanted to get some advice.”

“Advice?”

“Why does Enoch seem to be avoiding me? I thought you might know since you’re quick-witted,” Margaret confessed, looking hopeful.

Arthdal felt a bit unsettled by her words. Was she really seeking romantic advice from him? However, his words emerged differently from his thoughts.

“How did you know I’m also a love expert? I’ll give you advice as a senior in marriage. Feel free to ask me anything you’re curious about.”

Of course, Arthdal had never experienced proper romance. He had married before dating. Only to be used by his wife, nearly killed, and eventually divorced.

Arthdal watched Margaret quietly as she explained, thinking to himself. If their encounter had been even slightly different, perhaps he might have developed special feelings for Margaret. Now it was a pointless speculation.

He was Margaret’s dear comrade. He wanted to remain by her side, just as that.