I AM NOT THE LOVE INTEREST!

Chapter 6: Chapter 6: Excuses!

Chapter 6: Excuses!

—CELIA—

"Who is it?" Sebastian asked once more, somehow becoming irritated.

I smiled, not because I was happy. But because I was panicking.

"Who is... who?" I asked, as if there was any chance that question would save me.

Sebastian did not blink. "The man you claim to love."

Ah.

That man.

The one who did not exist.

My father leaned forward slightly, clearly entertained. "Yes, Aria. Since you have already declared it so boldly, you may as well tell us."

I stared at both of them.

One was curious while the other looked like he was about to turn this into a full on interrogation.

I was not prepared for either.

"Right," I said slowly. "That would make sense."

My mind raced.

Think.

Think properly.

You cannot say no one.

You cannot say it was a mistake.

You definitely cannot say you panicked and invented a person out of fear.

That would raise more questions.

Dangerous questions.

I needed a name.

A believable one.

Someone far enough away from the main plot.

Someone who would not immediately walk into this room and expose me.

Someone...

Oh no.

My thoughts stopped.

Because every name I knew was a problem.

Crown Prince Damien Ashford freewebnσvel.cѳm

Absolutely not.

That would get me executed faster.

Sir Matthias Sinclair.

Also no.

He was too involved.

Archmage Ezekiel Rowe.

Even worse.

I did not need magic-related complications in my life.

I felt my soul leave my body again.

Why were all the important men in this story dangerous?

Why was there no option labeled "safe background character with no emotional involvement"?

My silence stretched too long.

Sebastian’s gaze sharpened. "You are hesitating."

"Yes," I said honestly. "I am."

That was not helping.

My father chuckled lightly. "Is this a secret love, then?"

"Yes," I said again.

That part, at least, was technically true.

It was a secret.

Even to me.

I took a breath.

Commit. Just commit to something and survive the consequences later.

"He is..." I began.

Then stopped.

Because the moment I said a name, that person would become real in this situation.

Attached to me and connected to this decision.

Potentially dragged into something they did not sign up for.

I did not want to ruin someone else’s life on top of my own.

"I would prefer not to say," I finished instead.

Sebastian leaned back slightly, his expression cooling further. "Convenient."

I winced internally.

Yes.

Very.

My father, however, seemed amused rather than offended. "You expect me to accept that you wish to dissolve ypur long desire engagement over an unnamed individual?"

"...When you put it like that," I said, "it does sound slightly unreasonable."

"Slightly?" Sebastian repeated.

I glanced at him briefly but looked away immediately when I realized he was staring at me so intently.

"I understand your concerns," I said, trying to recover. "But my decision remains the same."

My father studied me again, longer this time.

"And this person," he said, "is worthy of you?"

I paused.

That was a dangerous question.

Because I had no idea who "he" was.

"He is... very important to me," I said carefully.

That was vague enough to survive.

Sebastian let out a breath, almost like a scoff, though he did not say anything.

My father tapped his fingers lightly against the table, thinking.

"You realize," he said, "that if this is merely a fleeting feeling, you may come to regret it."

I nodded.

"I understand and I will...never regret it."

Regret was better than execution.

By a wide margin.

"I am willing to accept that risk," I added.

That, at least, was honest.

The room fell quiet again.

But I could feel Sebastian’s sharp gaze very much directed at me like I had personally offended his entire lineage.

I kept my eyes on my plate.

My very... interesting plate.

Extremely harmless plate.

Safe plate.

Because the moment I looked up, I was going to confirm what I was already sensing, and I was not emotionally prepared for that.

What was his problem now?

Didn’t he want this?

Wasn’t this the ideal outcome?

I was literally handing him his freedom on a silver platter, and he was responding like I had just insulted him in five different languages.

I risked a glance only to see something in his expression that I couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t just irritation. It wasn’t just disbelief either.

It was... different.

Almost like he was trying to figure something out.

I quickly looked back down at my food.

Okay.

New concern unlocked.

Why does he look like that?

My brain started working through possibilities.

Did I say something wrong?

Probably.

But what specifically?

I said I don’t love him anymore.

That should have been good news.

I said I wanted to end the engagement.

That should have been great news.

I even invented a whole other person to justify it.

That should have been...

I paused.

Oh.

...Oh no.

I slowly froze in place.

Did it sound like I was replacing him?

I stared at my plate harder.

From his perspective, this might not look like "I am freeing you from an unwanted engagement."

This might look like "I found someone better."

I winced internally.

That... could be taken the wrong way very easily. freewebnσvel.cøm

’...Right,’ I thought. ’That’s definitely the wrong way.’

I straightened slightly, trying to recover without making it worse.

"Just to clarify," I said carefully, not looking directly at him, "this decision is not meant to cause offense."

Smooth.

Very smooth.

Sebastian’s response was immediate.

"It already has."

I blinked.

"...Oh."

That was honest.

Unhelpfully honest.

I finally looked at him properly.

"You never wanted this engagement," I said, keeping my voice steady. "So I assumed this would be... agreeable."

His gaze did not soften.

"That does not mean I appreciate being dismissed," he replied.

I paused.

Dismissed?

I frowned slightly.

"That was not my intention," I said.

"Then what was your intention?" he asked.

Ah.

That is a very dangerous question.

I held his gaze this time, choosing my words more carefully.

"To correct a decision that should not have been made in the first place," I said.

That was the truth.

At least, my version of it.

Silence followed.

He did not respond immediately, but the tension shifted instantly, like my answer had landed and he did not fully accept it.

My father watched the exchange quietly, more amused now.

I exhaled slowly.

This was exhausting.

All I wanted was to not die.

Instead, I was accidentally offending powerful men.

I lowered my gaze again.

’...This is already going terribly,’ I thought.

"If you may excuse me, father... I wish to go do my chores," I said, forcing a small, awkward laugh as I pushed my chair back and stood up.

Both of them paused, looking at me weirdly.

"Chores?" my father repeated, clearly confused. "Since when did you have chores, my dear?"

I froze mid-step.

Right.

Of course.

Why would the spoiled daughter of a powerful duke have chores?

That was a very valid question.

One I was not equipped to answer.

I smiled.

"Personal chores," I said vaguely, already backing away. "Very important ones."

That sounded believable.

Probably.

Before either of them could question me further, I turned and walked out of the dining hall with what I hoped looked like dignity.

It did not feel like dignity at all.

The moment I stepped into the hallway and the doors closed behind me, I let out a long breath.

"Okay," I whispered. "That went... not well."