Roulan, meanwhile, was spiraling into panic. How was she supposed to identify the wealthiest man in a world she barely understood? The fragmented memories of this body offered little help. The pressure mounted, and her head began to pound. She had three two hours left—and still no solution.
Roulan adjusted the hem of her sheer blue gown as she descended the grand staircase. She was done searching for one of the kingdom's wealthiest men within the palace. A different plan crossed her mind—one she hoped would finally end this nightmare. "The tavern," she thought. Most rich men, she reasoned, spent their evenings there indulging in their vices, betraying their wives in dimly lit corners. Surely, she could find one in a vulnerable state, kiss him, and complete the system's ridiculous task.
As she stepped onto the last stair, a high-pitched whistle froze her in place. The sound, both strange and enchanting, sent her heart racing uncontrollably. She turned, and before she could comprehend what was happening, a pair of strong hands encircled her waist.
The scent of the man before her overwhelmed her senses. It wasn't like any perfume she'd ever known—it was intoxicating, primal, and utterly mesmerizing. His piercing green eyes locked with hers, his dark brown hair a stark contrast to her light locks. Every inch of his body seemed to radiate an almost celestial perfection. His chiseled jaw, full lips, and even the subtle motion of his Adam's apple—everything about him screamed beauty. He was unlike anything she had ever seen.
'You have to do this girl,'She encourage herself to walk to him,
"Are you rich?" she asked, her voice trembling as if her very life depended on his answer. Her heart hammered in her chest, warning her that if he so much as made another move, she might lose her sanity.
The man tilted his head, his voice a rich baritone. "Richer than you can ever imagine. Why? Is something wrong?"
That was all Roulan needed. Without hesitation, she lunged forward, capturing his lips in a kiss. She had intended for it to be quick and transactional, but the moment their lips met, everything changed. He responded fiercely, pulling her closer into a kiss so passionate it ignited something pure within her. She felt as though every nerve in her body had been set aflame. It wasn't just a kiss—it was a collision of desire and instinct.
---
[Congratulations! You have completed the daily system task.]
[Your survival period has been extended by six hours. Healing skill upgraded from Level 0 to Level 1.]
---
As the green notifications flashed before her eyes, Roulan's mind spun. Healing magic? Why did the system insist on tasks involving physical contact? And why did she feel as though her body was still burning from the kiss demanding more?
Her thoughts were interrupted by his low, ragged whisper. "Do you have any idea what you've just done?"
His voice, heavy with restrained emotion, sent shivers down her spine. She looked up at him, still breathless. His fingers, now firmly gripping her waist, made it clear that he wasn't ready to let her go. His gaze smoldered with an intensity that made her feel both exhilarated and terrified.
For a fleeting moment, Roulan felt herself giving in, wanting more of him. But then she remembered why she had been rushing earlier. The king. She had to greet the king—or else risk the wrath of her stepmother, who had threatened her life if she failed to appear at the royal ball. Gathering every ounce of self-control, she pulled away from the man, leaving him visibly dazed.
"I—I'm sorry," she stammered, her voice soft but resolute. "I'll make it up to you. But right now, I must meet the king, or my life will be in danger."
She picked up her gown and ran back toward the ballroom, leaving the man standing there, his expression a mix of confusion and frustration.
---
He watched her retreating figure, his jaw clenched. "I didn't know she could show this side of her,?" he muttered under his breath, his hand still pressed to his chest where his heart was pounding wildly. No one had ever dared approach him like that, much less kiss him so brazenly.
A guard approached, bowing deeply. "Your Majesty, the guests are waiting. You've delayed long enough."
The guard's words jolted him back to his responsibilities. With a sigh, King Rick XI adjusted his attire, but his thoughts remained on the mysterious woman who had left him utterly spellbound.
---
Back in the palace, Roulan was stopped by a maid, who was panting heavily from running. "Miss Roulan," she gasped. "I've been looking everywhere for you. Your stepmother's condition has worsened. You must return home immediately—she might be dying."
Roulan frowned. "Dying?" she repeated, skeptical. Just two hours ago, everything had seemed fine at home. Still, she knew better than to ignore such a message.
"Fine," she said after a moment. "Let me greet the king first, and then we'll leave."
As she approached the grand hall, her mind lingered on the kiss. She could still feel its warmth on her lips, the searing intensity of his touch. Her cheeks flushed as she recalled the way he had looked at her—as if she were the only person in the world.
"Look! The king has arrived," the maid whispered excitedly, gesturing toward the throne.
Roulan froze. Her breath caught in her throat as her eyes locked onto the figure walking into the room. Clad in the most regal of garments, exuding power and authority, was the man she had kissed. The realization hit her like a thunderbolt. "What have I done?" she thought, panic setting in.
"I kissed the king of this strange kingdom. The King Rick XI. The most powerful man here. And to make matters worse, I did it without even realizing who he was, dammit,"
Her wide, terrified eyes met his. His gaze, however, was filled with something far more dangerous than anger—desire.