Chương 350: Chapter : 350

"He is certainly unique," Sayma agreed smoothly. She set her cup down. She smiled a very polite, very composed smile. The meeting ended on a highly positive, incredibly friendly note. Scott paid the massive bill for the tea and the vanilla cream cakes. He escorted Sayma out of the lavish parlor. They said their goodbyes on the sunny street of the Diamond District. Scott climbed into a shiny carriage and rode away. Sayma stood alone on the clean white cobblestones.

The afternoon sun shined down on her elegant blue dress. She let out a very long, very loud sigh of pure exhaustion. She pushed her thick glasses up her nose and rubbed her eyes. The stress of the meeting finally left her shoulders. Her tactical lie was an absolute, flawless success. She had defeated the arranged marriage using pure logic and a fake romance story. She turned around and started walking toward the transit station. She needed to take a train back to the outer districts.

She needed to return to the crumbling estate. As she walked, a sudden, highly alarming thought crashed into her brilliant mind. She stopped walking entirely. She stood frozen in the middle of the sidewalk. A wealthy noble bumped her shoulder, but she did not even notice. She had just told a massive, undeniable lie to a very powerful noble family. She had officially declared that she was in a passionate, long-term romantic relationship with a commoner. Scott would tell his parents. His parents would talk.

The gossip would inevitably reach her own strict, controlling parents in the Inner City. Her parents would demand to meet the boyfriend. They would want to see this secret lover. They would want to interrogate him. Sayma realized she had a massive problem. She had a fake boyfriend. She needed an actor. She needed to go home right now. She needed to find Ken Eliot.

She needed to somehow convince the laziest, most annoying, most snack-obsessed boy in the entire Empire to pretend to be passionately in love with her in front of her terrifying parents. Sayma covered her face with both hands. She let out a quiet groan of absolute misery.

"This is going to be a complete disaster," Sayma whispered to the empty street.

"He is going to ask for so many free snacks. This is going to cost me a fortune in pastries." She dropped her hands. She started walking again. She walked faster this time. She needed to prepare a very detailed, highly organized presentation to convince Ken to play along. The political crisis was over, but the ridiculous, chaotic comedy was just about to begin.

The strategy room door burst open. Sayma rushed inside. She moved with frantic, uncharacteristic speed. She did not walk with her usual polite grace. She practically sprinted across the wooden floorboards. She clutched a crumpled piece of paper tightly in her hand. Her chest heaved up and down. She looked incredibly panicked. Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Ken Eliot was currently sitting at the end of the long wooden table.

He leaned his chair far back on its two hind legs. He balanced a small, yellow pencil on the tip of his nose. He squinted his eyes, trying to keep the pencil perfectly steady. His navy blue suit jacket was tossed carelessly onto the floor. His white shirt hung completely untucked over his belt. He looked entirely dedicated to doing absolutely nothing.

"Ken! I need your help right now!" Sayma gasped. She stopped right next to his chair. She pushed her thick glasses up the bridge of her nose with a shaking finger. Ken lost his concentration. He turned his head. The yellow pencil slipped off his nose. It bounced on the table with a soft clatter. He let out a long, dramatic groan.

"Sayma, you ruined my new personal record," Ken complained lazily. He let his chair drop forward. The front legs hit the floor with a dull thud.

"I was balancing that pencil for four whole minutes. It is a very intense workout. My nose muscles are exhausted." Sayma ignored his ridiculous complaint entirely. She slammed the crumpled piece of paper onto the table right in front of him.

"This is a total disaster," Sayma stated quickly. Her voice lost its usual calm, analytical tone. It pitched up with genuine stress.

"My highly suspicious, incredibly demanding parents just sent an urgent messenger bird. They are requiring an immediate, in-person meeting tonight at their mansion in the Inner City." Ken blinked his sleepy dark eyes. He slouched his shoulders forward. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets.

"Okay. Have fun at dinner. Bring me back a bread roll if they have extra."

"You do not understand, Ken," Sayma pleaded. She crossed her arms tightly. She leaned closer to him.

"They want to evaluate my sudden, mysterious boyfriend. They want to meet you." Ken froze. His lazy, goofy smile completely melted off his face.

"Me?" Ken asked. He pointed a finger at his own chest.

"Why do they want to meet me?"

"Because of the lie!" Sayma whispered frantically. She looked around the empty strategy room to make sure nobody else was listening.

"I told the wealthy nobleman I was already in a passionate, deeply committed romantic relationship with you. I did it to avoid the arranged marriage. But the gossip reached my parents faster than I calculated. They are furious. They demand to see the commoner I am supposedly dating." Ken took a slow, deliberate slide down his chair until he was almost sitting under the table.

"Nope," Ken declared flatly. He shook his head back and forth.

"Absolutely not. Meeting strict, angry parents sounds like a massive amount of manual labor. They will ask me difficult questions. They will judge my table manners. I am highly allergic to formal judgment. I officially resign from the boyfriend position."

"You cannot resign!" Sayma argued softly. She grabbed his arm and tried to pull him back up.

"If I show up without you, my parents will instantly know I lied. They will force me to go back and marry Scott. My entire life will be ruined. You have to play along!"

"Playing along requires wearing shoes," Ken whined loudly. He stared at the ceiling.

"My feet are currently on strike. Find another fake boyfriend. Ask Grandmaster Finlay. He looks very dashing in his silver armor." Sayma closed her eyes. She took a deep, shaky breath. She knew she had to use drastic measures. She knew exactly how to motivate the laziest boy in the Belmontia Empire. She reached into her pocket and pulled out her leather wallet.

"I am desperate, Ken," Sayma bargained. She opened her wallet.

"If you do this, I will successfully bribe you. I promise you an all-expenses-paid, limitless feast of premium desserts. My family employs a private chef. You can eat unlimited chocolate cakes, vanilla tarts, and fancy pastries. I will even buy your snacks for the next two weeks." Ken stopped sliding under the table. He slowly pulled himself back up. His sleepy eyes suddenly sparked with bright, pure joy. The goofy smile returned instantly.