Chapter 270

Natasha had no idea what Fermin was planning and strictly refused to become a consort. Besides, she couldn’t stand Fermin. Sure, he’s the Queen’s son and decent-looking, but he gives off such a sinister vibe—he’s so proud.

Seeing Athena lost in thought, Natasha tugged at her sleeve and pleaded, “Dear Athena, I need your help.”

Athena tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Well, I do have an idea if you’re bold enough to try.”

“Of course, as long as I don’t have to murder someone,” Natasha declared with determination. “But if push came to shove…”

Athena rolled her eyes at her. “Come on! Why would you need to murder anyone?”

After a brief pause, Athena asked casually, “So, is there any young lord you fancy?”

Natasha knitted her brows in thought, then shook her head. Suddenly, her eyes lit up. “This year’s top scholar is actually quite good-looking! I only saw him once from afar, but he seemed pretty good.”

Athena declared, “Alright then, have someone discreetly find out if the top scholar is already taken.”

Natasha blinked in surprise. “Whoa, so sudden?”

Athena said firmly, “If you don’t act quickly, you’ll end up as a secondary consort!”

“Fine, let’s go with him then,” Natasha said, no longer hesitating. “After all, he’s handsome.”

With that, the two girls exchanged knowing grins, their eyes sparkling with mischief.

While the performance on stage was in full swing, Athena’s gaze suddenly snagged on...

Natasha followed her gaze and spotted a strikingly handsome young man looking straight in their direction. The moment their eyes met, he quickly averted his gaze.

Natasha’s breath caught as she realized who he was. “Prince Evander!”

Realizing what she’d just blurted out, Natasha quickly slapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes wide with shock.

Athena chuckled lightly. “Who would’ve thought this theater is full of surprises—even Prince Evander is here!”

Prince Evander was the third son of Emperor Arthur, whose birth mother had died young. Because of his blunt personality, he often rubbed people the wrong way, leaving him with almost no acquaintances. Even Emperor Arthur largely ignored him.

By now he was twenty, yet still unwed. The Queen had once brought up marriage arrangements for him, but for some unknown reason, nothing came of it. Athena had only heard whispers—it seemed Prince Evander had upset the Queen over some marriage arrangement. Since then, no one mentioned it again.

Prince Evander is an idle prince—never one to vie for power, content to take life as it came. His presence in the theater came as no surprise.

Natasha snorted disdainfully, grabbed the wine from the table, and took a large gulp. She stated, “Believe it or not…”

“Whoa, a fight?” Athena exclaimed, her eyes widening with surprise and admiration as she looked at Natasha. Athena thought to herself, "Fighting a prince? Damn, that’s spicy!"

Athena’s eyes blazed with gossipy excitement as she leaned in toward Natasha. “Spill the tea—what happened?” she urged.

“When I was little, I met him in the Imperial Garden. I’d just taken a nasty fall and was covered in dirt. You wouldn’t believe how mean he looked down at me with this disgusted frown and said, ‘How ugly!’” Natasha put on a perfect imitation of Prince Evander’s mannerisms.

Athena was tickled by her expression and burst into laughter, which only fueled Natasha’s excitement. Natasha grinned. “Right then and there, I rolled up my sleeves and fought him! I pinned him to the ground, smeared mud all over his face, and asked, ‘So, who’s the ugly one now?’”

Just thinking about how ridiculous Prince Evander looked back then made Natasha burst out laughing. “Athena, you wouldn’t believe how utterly mortified he was—oh god, I nearly died laughing... Why are you waving your hand? Come on, laugh with me!”

She laughed uproariously, pounding the table—utterly unladylike.

Suddenly, someone tapped Natasha hard on the shoulder. Still caught up in her story, she snapped impatiently, “Who the hell is—? So annoying?”

The guy’s face turned livid. He took a deep breath, his voice dangerously low. “Ms. Beren, if you’re going to badmouth someone behind their back, shouldn’t you at least make sure they’re out of earshot?”

At the sound of that voice, Natasha whipped her head around in shock. Before she knew it, Prince Evander—who had just been in the distance—had somehow appeared right behind her.

Athena looked like she wished the ground would open up and swallow her. She’d already tried to give Natasha a subtle hint, but her oblivious friend just hadn’t picked up on it.

Evander turned to Athena. She offered a sheepish smile and murmured, “Your Highness.”

Evander snorted, his face thunderous. Natasha was caught red-handed, yet she didn’t bat an eye.

Shamelessly, Natasha said, “Your Highness, this eavesdropping habit of yours is quite unbecoming. If you want to hear a story, why not just sit down and listen openly? Hardly the behavior of a gentleman, is it?”

“Me? Eavesdropping?” Evander let out a mirthless laugh. “My private box is right behind yours—and you dare accuse me of eavesdropping!”

The private boxes in the theater were merely partitioned by wooden planks. Each private box didn’t even have a door—just a curtain hanging at the entrance. The soundproofing was practically nonexistent.

Natasha’s face paled in shock. “You—you… how long have you been listening?”

“From the part where you smeared mud all over my face,” he said coldly. “Ms. Beren, to remember something from childhood so clearly—you truly are quite a character.”

Natasha’s face, which had just started to show a hint of flinching, instantly hardened. She shot back, “That’s still better than you! Who tells a girl she’s ugly to her face? Even at my ugliest, I’d still be better looking than you!”

Evander’s eyes widened dramatically, his normally elegant almond-shaped eyes bulging with barely contained fury.

Evander jabbed his fan at Natasha, his voice trembling with barely contained rage. “Apologize!”

“Sorry,” Natasha shot back, utterly devoid of sincerity.

Fury flared in Evander’s eyes. He seethed, “Do you really think I wouldn’t dare punish you?”

Seeing Evander’s face turn pale with anger, Natasha finally backed down a little. With exaggerated deference, she said, “My deepest apologies for offending Your Highness. But surely, a man as magnanimous as you wouldn’t bother holding a grudge against someone as insignificant as me?”

With that, she rose to her feet, preparing to perform an exaggeratedly deep curtsy. To her shock, her exaggerated curtsy sent Evander sprawling.

Evander was about to hit the ground, Natasha panicked and lunged to grab his arm.

But little did she know, some careless soul had left a bead lying on the floor, and Natasha stepped right on it.

Athena heard Natasha let out a couple of startled cries before she came crashing down heavily onto Evander. Even the usually unflappable Athena couldn’t help but widen her eyes in shock at this absurdly dramatic scene.

Athena stood up in a fluster, reaching out to help Natasha but hesitated, unsure what to do.

Natasha’s lips smashed into Evander’s with a painful thud, and both of them grimaced in pain. Blood seeped from the corners of their mouths, and Natasha just stood there, completely dumbstruck.

She froze for a moment, then burst into loud sobs. “You… you jerk!” she cried, her voice shaking with anger and humiliation. Natasha thought to herself, ‘My first kiss—gone just like that!’

Evander’s face darkened further—he, a dignified prince, had actually been knocked down by a woman! He savagely wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, then snarled at Natasha through gritted teeth. “My reputation is utterly ruined because of you, Natasha! Look at the mess you’ve made—how do you intend to compensate me?”

Still sniffling from her sobs, Natasha’s eyes snapped wide as she stared at Evander, as if he was a monster.