Tough Girl

While Eren was reading the information in front of him, he finally spoke, his voice laced with lazy indifference.

"So… why did you come here?"

He already knew this was their first time meeting face-to-face. Their engagement had been arranged four weeks ago, yet the previous Eren hadn't thought much about it. Not once had he been curious about the girl who would become his fiancée.

Mereoleona's eye twitched at his disinterested attitude. She had expected as much, but his complete lack of concern still irritated her. Even a nobleman with the bare minimum of courtesy would have at least asked for her name and greets her.

She folded her arms across her chest.

"Did you not hear the news from the past three days that I was coming?" she asked, her tone edged with barely concealed irritation.

Eren didn't react immediately. He simply continued sipping his drink, his posture relaxed as if this entire meeting was nothing more than an inconvenience.

Mereoleona exhaled sharply through her nose before continuing.

"I came because it is my duty… and because my mother insisted for me to meet you. Apparently, I'm supposed to 'get to know' my future husband."

The words tasted bitter on her tongue.

She had no personal desire to be here, yet tradition and obligation had left her no choice. Even if she wanted to refuse, it would only create unnecessary trouble for her family.

Eren's dull, uninterested eyes remained fixed on her, yet somehow, it felt like he wasn't looking at her but rather through her—as if she were just another formality to deal with. His fingers idly tapped against the wooden arm couch as he continued drinking, the sound soft yet grating in the quiet room.

Mereoleona, feeling the weight of his silence, pressed on.

"Not that I expect much from this meeting," she muttered, her sharp amber gaze scrutinizing his every movement.

"You don't strike me as someone who cares about duty, much less an engagement."

At that, Eren finally stopped drinking and smirked. His next words made her pause.

"Do you?"

Mereoleona's eyes flickered with surprise before narrowing slightly. Her fingers twitched, gripping the fabric of her dress.

The question had caught her off guard—not because she didn't have an answer, but because she hadn't expected him to turn the conversation on her so quickly.

For a brief moment, she parted her lips as if to speak, but no words came out.

Instead, she exhaled slowly and forced herself to maintain her composure.

Eren, meanwhile, leaned back slightly, watching her reaction with mild amusement.

"It's clear that you don't care about this engagement either," he continued, tilting his head. "Or maybe… you dislike the idea altogether?"

He reached for a small cake dessert, taking a casual bite before speaking again.

"For a girl like you to come all the way here to meet a fiancé she doesn't even like—just because her mommy told her to…" He smirked as he finished the cake.

"It makes this whole situation laughable."

Mereoleona's jaw tightened, her patience thinning with each passing second. Her amber eyes darkened, and for a brief moment, she considered standing up and leaving.

But that would mean letting him win.

Instead, she took a slow breath, forcing herself to remain calm.

"Don't mock me," she said, her voice sharp and unwavering.

She crossed her arms again, fingers digging into the fabric of her sleeves as she stared at him, unyielding.

"I came here because it is my duty, not because I wanted to entertain your childish taunts."

Her words carried weight—firm, unshaken. She would not let him reduce this meeting to a game of meaningless insults.

"You think I don't see how ridiculous this is? How humiliating?" Her eyes flicked to him, assessing his reaction.

"But unlike you, I don't have the luxury of ignoring my responsibilities."

"Pfft!"

Eren suddenly choked on his food, coughing abruptly. His maid, Marie, who had been standing behind him, immediately panicked and stepped forward, only to be stopped by his raised hand.

He grabbed his drink and took a long sip to clear his throat before speaking again.

"Responsible? Pfft!... You serious?"

Amusement flickered across Eren's face as he smirked, his eyes studying her closely.

"Girl—no, young lady—let me ask you this. If I'm not mistaken, wasn't it your family that arranged this marriage in the first place?"

Mereoleona's fingers curled into fists, her nails pressing against her palm. She wanted to argue, to throw his words back at him, but she hesitated.

Because he wasn't wrong.

Her amber eyes darkened further as she clenched her jaw, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing her falter.

Eren, sensing her silence, leaned back in his couch with a satisfied smirk.

"Your family arranged this marriage because they need my family's support."

His voice carried a casual arrogance, as if he had all the answers laid out before him.

"Because of your family's old traditions, your father and grandfather refused to change their ways. And for years, they pathetically struggled while other noble houses surpassed them—taking advantage of their pride."

He scoffed at the last word, his tone dripping with disdain.

"And because of that, your father had no choice but to turn to my family, arranging this marriage as a desperate measure."

Mereoleona's eyes widened slightly. She hadn't expected him to know so much.

Eren continued, casually circling the straw in the drink.

"So, tell me, missy—why should I listen to you?"

His lazy expression remained unchanged as he pointed a finger at her, openly mocking her.

Mereoleona's pride burned hotter than ever, but she held her tongue—for now. Her fingers twitched slightly, the only sign of her growing anger.

She hated how he spoke so casually about her family's struggles, as if they were nothing more than an entertaining story. But worst of all, she couldn't refute his words.

Because every word he said was true.

Still, she refused to give him the reaction he wanted. She inhaled deeply through her nose, forcing her emotions under control before finally speaking.

"Because this engagement is a fact, whether either of us like it or not."

Her amber eyes locked onto his lazily amused expression, her gaze unwavering.

"And as much as you mock it, I don't have the luxury of ignoring my duty."

There. She had said what needed to be said—without giving him the satisfaction of seeing her temper flare.

Eren blinked, then grinned slightly, leaning back in his seat.

'Bruh, she's stronger than I expected,' he thought, thoroughly impressed.

His gaze turned cold and indifferent as the amusement drained from his expression, replaced by disappointment. His arm rested lazily on the armrest while his chin leaned against his fist.

"…Weak."

His voice was low, almost a murmur, but she heard it clearly.

Mereoleona's eyes widened, her pupils shrinking as a crimson aura flickered around her body, similar to what had happened to Cedric when he got angry, but hers was a lot thinner. Her jaw clenched, and her fingers dug into the fabric of her dress as a surge of heat flared in her chest.

Weak?

The word slammed into her like a blow, her pride roaring in defiance. Her instincts screamed at her to strike—to punch him right now, to wipe that look off his face, or even kill him.

For the first time, the careful restraint she had used when coming here is nearly cracked. Her knuckles turned white as she forced herself to stay still, her breath slow and measured. But her eyes blazed. The fire within them, restrained yet undeniable, burned dangerously as she locked her furious gaze onto him.

Eren, still lounging in his seat, regarded her with the same cold, lazy expression, utterly unbothered by the killing intent radiating from her. He took another sip of his drink, the straw between his lips making an infuriatingly soft sound before he spoke again.

"You're just acting tough," he remarked, voice calm, almost bored.

"You don't like this political engagement, and you definitely don't like me because of my personality. But even with all that, you won't fight back—not because you can't, but because of your pride, and your family's reputation."

He paused, watching as her fists tightened, her knuckles pressing hard against the fabric of her dress, making it crumple further.

"You must already know about my bad reputation (laziness)," he continued, swirling his drink absentmindedly.

"And you can tell that our future together would be a complete disaster. Maybe even worse than you're imagining. And yet…You still choose to sacrifice your future for something as humiliating as this?"