Celebrity Lady - Chapter 10

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Celebrity Lady
Chapter 10
* * *
After Rubetra left, Leonard Diolus sat in silence, his expression hollow, for a long time.
“Just as you have been all this while—live without concerning yourself whether I’m alive or dead.”
Her words, driven deep as bone, kindled a thread of remorse in him.
This man had been dragging himself through eleven years since his wife’s death, scarcely able to manage his own body—he’d had neither energy nor capacity to think of his children.
Yet his eldest son, Biego, now eighteen, was managing the dukedom admirably as acting family head—a gratifying sight.
His second son, Victor, had shown aptitude with the blade early on, and three years past had enlisted in the Imperial Knights; he saw his face at home perhaps twice a year.
And his youngest daughter, Rubetra, was quiet and timid in manner, bearing a striking resemblance to his deceased wife.
All three had never once uttered a word of weakness to their father, and the few times they met, their faces were always serene—he’d believed there was nothing amiss, but…….
“……How wearying.”
Leonard pressed a hand to his drink-sodden head, its ache dull and persistent, and hesitated as he tilted a weighty liquor bottle to his lips.
“Wouldn’t it be better if you drank just a little less?”
It was his daughter’s voice that surfaced in his mind.
In the end, Leonard set down the bottle and made his unsteady way to bed.
He collapsed upon it, his back against the mattress, and closed his eyes.
How many years had it been since he’d looked at his daughter’s face for so long?
Her expression, communicating disappointment in her father through every fiber of her being, bore his wife’s likeness as always…….
“……Illusion.”
Leonard summoned his Spirit in a low voice.
At once, a Spirit with a pure white, translucent feminine form appeared and drifted gracefully once through the empty air.
“You called, Contractor?”
Illusion, a Fantasy Spirit.
She was Leonard’s bound Spirit, possessed of the ability to weave hallucinations before his eyes or grant him any dream he desired.
“The dream I always have.”
At the familiar command, Illusion pressed her lips to the Contractor’s brow. Presently, as if by magic, Leonard sank into sleep.
Save for the brief hours of wakefulness, he lived nearly the entirety of each day within fantasy.
The dream he sought never varied: his wife, still living. Her smile, her pout, the floating grace of her movements, the warmth of her voice…….
Cradled in the arms of his wife as she’d been in life, Leonard alone found himself free from torment.
Eleven years now. A fantasy as impossible to shed as an addiction.
* * *
On my way back to my room after meeting Father.
“Why didn’t you mention anything about Molga?”
Wisht, who had been watching the entire situation unfold beside me, posed the question.
“Listen, Rubetra.”
“…….”
“Are you ignoring me right now?”
Unable to bear it, Wisht stepped into my path. I stopped short, startled.
“You looked Father in the face, and he seemed to feel something. All you had to do was tell him what Molga’s been doing to you, and have him cast her out the way he did that ancient butler.”
“…….”
Rather than answer, I glanced about the corridor. A few maidservants passed nearby.
Spirits are visible only to their respective Contractors. Even if the Crown Prince’s face suddenly manifested here in the mansion’s hallway, there was no need to manage the situation.
When Spirit Contractors speak with their Spirits, they often appear to be talking to themselves.
‘Except my situation is somewhat different…….’
I ignored Wisht a moment longer, then walked briskly to my room, locked the door, and spoke.
“Wisht, please.”
“What?”
“Don’t speak to me when others are near. What if I slip and answer you? What if it comes out that I actually succeeded in contracting a Spirit? What if they learn it’s a Dangerous-Class Spirit?”
“…….”
“This is the life Rubetra worked so hard to save. I won’t throw it away so carelessly.”
Wisht, realizing his mistake, fell silent.
There are complicated circumstances here, but to boil it down to the essential truth…….
I was known throughout the Diolus Dukedom as the only one who had failed to contract with a Spirit—and that was how things had to remain.
Because Wisht was classified as a Dangerous-Class Spirit.
‘If it became known that I contracted a Dangerous-Class Spirit, death would follow. That’s why Rubetra kept Wisht hidden all this time.’
After a moment’s thought, I spoke.
“If you need to speak to me when someone’s around, you know what to do, right? You can send Telepathy directly to my mind.”
A Contractor and their Spirit can communicate through Telepathy even when separated.
There was no need for Telepathy when he was summoned beside me, but because Rubetra had to conceal Wisht’s existence, she had always communicated through Telepathy except when they were alone.
I patted Wisht’s slouched shoulder gently.
“Are you curious why I didn’t mention Molga?”
“Yeah.”
I walked slowly to the table and began to sit as I spoke.
“Molga is the real power in this house, and she’s an angel of a woman. After Mother passed, she took care of us three children like a mother while Father was out of his mind. She tormented me, but she was very devoted to caring for Biego and Victor. Isn’t that right?”
“That’s true.”
“Right now Biego, who’s practically the family head, is on Molga’s side. And every servant in the dukedom is bought and paid for by her.”
“…….”
“If I suddenly went to Father crying my eyes out, saying Molga was tormenting me and asking him to cast her out—would he think, ‘Oh, my dear daughter’s been suffering,’ and send her away? Or would he scold me for being foolish and throwing a tantrum?”
“…….”
“We barely have any bond to speak of; we’re worse than strangers. He wouldn’t cast out a senior household figure on my word alone, not when there’s already so little trust between us. An old servant like that butler—that’s different.”
“Still, if you said something, wouldn’t he at least grow suspicious of that demon of a woman?”
“Exactly. So while I didn’t say it outright, I made sure Father understood the abnormality of the environment I’m living in. Slowly, he’ll come to grasp this mad household situation.”
Wisht seemed unable to comprehend my somewhat passive approach, but unwilling to quarrel further, he fell silent with a sullen expression.
I understood his irritation and felt both grateful and sorry for him.
“Are you worried that Molga will do to me what she did to Rubetra when she gets back?”
“Once you meet that woman in person, you’ll have a very different experience. I’m not sure you’ll be able to handle it.”
“You should be the one preparing yourself for me. There’s no running away from a Contractor who turns out to be a madwoman.”
As I answered with a smile, Wisht studied me intently, then sighed and asked.
“Suddenly borrowing money from the Duke—why’d you do that?”
“Oh, that? I need some startup capital.”
“For what, out of nowhere?”
“To make money and become independent from this godforsaken household. I promised to live Rubetra’s life happily. And an unemployed, penniless life isn’t happy.”
“Who calls a noblewoman unemployed?”
“Well, by my standards, anyway. ‘Daughter of Duke Diolus’ isn’t a job, if you ask me.”
I gestured at the heap of fashion magazines piled on the table. I’d asked Rebecca to bring them so I could understand the fashion trends of this place.
“Do you know what my job was in the other world?”
“An actress?”
“Besides that.”
Wisht would know what I did, since he’d been watching over me alongside Rubetra.
He blinked quietly in thought before speaking.
“……A clothing store owner?”
“…….”
We sat facing each other in silence for a moment.
He was right, but…….
“Doesn’t that sound too modest when you say it like that? Could you call it a luxury brand CEO instead? That ‘clothing store’ you mentioned did 1.2 trillion won in annual revenue last year.”
“Right, I suppose…… I can’t quite grasp all of it though.”
Wisht scratched his ear and asked.
“So, to sum up—you’re going to open a clothing store here too?”
“Exactly. I’ve already decided on the brand name: Blanc De Ruby. I took it from my nickname.”
I sat at the table, rested my chin in my hands, and began thinking seriously.
“But there’s a problem.”
“What kind?”
“You can’t launch a brand just by wanting to. There are several things you need to prepare.”
“Like what?”
“Money. Initial capital.”
“But you just borrowed from the Duke.”
“Right. And a talented designer.”
I immediately held up my index finger directly before Wisht’s eyes.
“I’ll handle that, so don’t worry.”
“And what else?”
“A tailor to sew the garments.”
“Are you going to ask the tailor who’s coming to see you this evening?”
“Right! You catch on quick. I had her come partly to make some athletic wear, partly for other reasons.”
“Then that’s all settled. What else is there?”
“Well…… the most important thing is still missing…….”
I covered my face and stifled a sigh.
“A model.”
“A model?”
“This world already has plenty of tailors with successful shops. In a market so saturated, if I’m going to jump in late and close that gap immediately, I need someone with major celebrity appeal.”
Do you know why famous celebrities are gifted clothing to wear? Obviously, to promote the clothing.
‘I was proof of that.’
Every piece of clothing I wore, every cosmetic I applied, every accessory I adorned became a ‘trend’—and once I appeared at official events, every product on me from head to toe would sell out by the next day.
In other words, I was planning to employ a publicity strategy leveraging the model’s celebrity status.
“Finding people shouldn’t be hard for you, though?”
“Of course, I could hire someone beautiful and fit with a bit of legwork. But that’s not my priority. What I need is the model’s celebrity—their fame.”
“Fame?”
“Someone people admire and aspire to be like—the kind the other world calls a celebrity. I’d want at least one female model and one male model, enough to launch the business with confidence, but…….”
As I spoke, melancholy crept in again.
“Fortunately, I have someone in mind for the female model. But the problem is.”
“Male?”
“Yeah.”
I nodded and looked back at Wisht.
‘The Crown Prince…….’
Seeing his face transformed into that of a handsome prince, my mouth watered involuntarily.
‘The Crown Prince is the most popular man in the empire right now. He’d be perfect as a model.’
Wisht, reading the glint in my eyes, let out a dry laugh.
“……The Crown Prince?”
“There’s no chance, right?”
“Surely he won’t volunteer to be a promotional model.”
“No, I’m confident I can convince him—the hard part is even meeting him. I don’t have any connection to him.”
I had no celebrity, no connections, no confidence, and my only asset was a family name—I was barely better than an ordinary person. Meeting a constantly busy celebrity for a one-on-one conversation was an unrealistic wish.
If I had to compare it to something, it would be like the odds of a top-tier celebrity successfully meeting with one of their fans one-on-one.
‘How strange to find myself on the opposite end of this situation.’
Who would have ever predicted? That ‘she’—Juliet Carenia—would go from the pinnacle of stardom to become a mere fan number one of a top-tier celebrity overnight?
As I sighed at the irony, Wisht shrugged and spoke.
“You’re not without a connection, though. The Crown Prince probably won’t agree to be your model, but meeting him shouldn’t be too difficult.”
“Me? How?”
“Your second brother. I’ve heard he spends 24 hours a day with the Crown Prince.”
“Ah!”
That’s right. Now that I think about it…….
Victor Diolus. I have an older brother, don’t I?
* * *
The Imperial Capital of the Decarde Empire.
An outdoor training grounds for the Imperial Knights.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Two Real Swords with brilliant, keen edges struck against each other repeatedly in midair.
In the training grounds, there were two men conducting an elaborate duel, drawing admiring gazes from the other knights as always.
“Magnificent! No matter how many times I see it, watching our Crown Prince duel is pure art. Is the perfection of Swordsmanship to be found in one’s face?”
The Crown Prince, Lark Van Rashmakh Decarde, and
“Lately, though, the Vice Commander’s been rising impressively, I hear. I was told by Miss Valet that in the Knight of the Month popularity poll, the Vice Commander came in second—just two votes behind—against His Highness, who’s usually overwhelming.”
Vice Commander of the Imperial Knights, Victor Diolus.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Indeed, the two men possessed such remarkable beauty that their swordplay resembled a graceful martial dance.
After a few more exchanges, Lark found an opening and leveled his blade sharply at Victor’s throat. A few strands of Victor’s crimson hair were cut cleanly away and fluttered into the air.
A decisive victory.
Thud!
Victor cast down his sword without hesitation.
Then,
“I won.”
The undefeated number-one position in the unofficial regular poll of the empire’s noble ladies, the Knight of the Month, for a remarkable 42 consecutive months…….
The current empire’s most popular man, Crown Prince Lark Van Rashmakh Decarde, said with a slight smile.
“That makes 53 matches: 26 wins, 2 draws, 25 losses.”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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