Isn’t Being A Wicked Woman Much Better? - Chapter 107

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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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Chapter 107
* * *
The moment I heard that Duke Montes had sent an official response regarding the marriage proposal after three years, Isidore spat out a curse and slammed his fist against the table with brutal force.
It felt as though flames were erupting from deep within him. He had always maintained composure in all matters, so this roiling sensation felt foreign and impossible to control.
“How dare he!”
Watching the solid wood table split in the opposite direction of its grain, Miguel found himself trembling involuntarily.
A sharp, lethal aura emanated from Isidore’s body. While his publicly known level was that of a Sword Expert, Miguel could not even begin to fathom the martial prowess he kept hidden.
“There are limits to audacity.”
At Isidore’s ominous murmur, Miguel barely regained his composure and nodded in agreement. Montes had certainly resorted to contemptible tactics this time. Who would have thought the family head himself would personally resurrect this long-dead marriage proposal?
Isidore, barely suppressing his rage, opened his mouth with a cold expression.
“What’s Duke Simour’s response? She must have found it disagreeable and refused, yes?”
Deborah Simour would surely find it unpleasant that this stale matter from the past had resurfaced.
‘…Surely that’s the case?’
Yet strangely, Isidore could not feel certain, and he bit his lip. The princess’s six years of unrequited love weighed on his mind. It was also the reason Philaf Montes lacked self-awareness and brimmed with confidence.
‘My head is beginning to ache.’
Whenever Deborah Simour became involved, nothing remained clear and distinct—everything became shrouded in fog, boundaries blurring. Emotion took precedence, making it impossible to step back and observe coldly.
“My lord. According to our informants, Duke Simour’s side has not sent any reply to Montes’s letter.”
Miguel’s words only deepened Isidore’s inner turmoil.
‘Not responding means she’s taking time to deliberate, doesn’t it?’
Was there even anything worth deliberating about in the first place?
His expression grew progressively colder. Duke Simour was torturing the Montes father and son with false hope, enjoying the situation, while ironically, the person most anxious and burning inside was Isidore himself.
Isidore, who had been frowning with his arms crossed, suddenly rose from his seat.
Just then, word arrived that Deborah Simour had visited Blanche.
* * *
I left the absurd marriage proposal matter to my father and headed to Blanche to earn some money.
‘I need to check on the progress of the second location and prepare for the new seasonal menu launch.’
Having procrastinated and holed myself up at home, my tasks had accumulated.
In truth, I needed time to recover my shamelessness in order to forget the drunken foolishness of suddenly touching Isidore’s hand.
‘I’ve forgotten all the unfavorable memories, but the more I think about it, the more I regret spending 1,000 gold at the Information Guild.’
Fastidiousness be damned. It was strange in the first place that such a person would wipe the beverage stains from my shoes. I concluded that Master was truly a first-rate information broker and greeted him.
“Master. It feels like it’s been a while.”
In the dimly lit office where one could not gauge the passage of outside time, Master exuded an eerie presence.
‘He seems to be in a bad mood today.’
Perhaps because I saw him often, I had begun to faintly discern emotions from that doll-like face.
“Master, is something wrong?”
“…Is there nothing wrong with you, Princess?”
“There is.”
I felt Master’s weary gaze upon me.
“Many customers find the café mocha too sweet and burdensome. Some dislike milk. So now I’m going to sell real coffee.”
“Do I appear to you merely as a simple business partner, Princess? Every time we meet, you speak only of business matters. Without any courtesy.”
Master’s lips seemed to pout, but was that just my imagination?
“You’re not just a business associate. You’re a very important person to me.”
When I gently coaxed him about the cream-colored limousine bus seeming offended, he cleared his throat with a slightly softened demeanor.
“Then please consult with me about anything. If a problem arises, I can resolve it for you.”
He pulled a teacup and teapot from thin air and continued in a serious tone.
“No matter who it is—even the head of a prestigious family or their heir—I can uncover their weaknesses. So you can avoid unwanted situations. Like with Louis Gazel, you… wouldn’t want that, right?”
“Weaknesses? That’s expensive.”
It wasn’t as if I had someone I wanted to dig into so badly I’d spend a handful of jewels on it.
Could Master be struggling with his performance lately?
“I’ll give you a discount.”
“Either way, it costs money.”
“It’s free. Does that work?”
At his sudden offer of complimentary information services, I hesitated for a moment before speaking.
“Actually, there is one thing I’d like to request discreetly.”
“…What is it?”
“Is there magic that can erase specific memories?”
“As far as I know, there’s no magic that manipulates the mind, but why do you ask such a question?”
“Just… curious.”
I deflected vaguely while swallowing down the melancholy feeling.
‘So erasing Isidore’s memories is out of the question.’
I never knew I had such a terrible habit of obsessing over one thing when drunk.
“Really no concerns or requests? I could even quietly bury someone for you.”
But this guy didn’t even drink, yet he was so fixated on getting a commission.
“Do I seem like someone who wants to have worries?”
“Well, if you do have worries, that’s annoying in its own way…”
He muttered something quietly and began dumping generous amounts of sugar into his tea.
‘Something’s off today.’
Even though the misunderstanding about omitting important information had been cleared up, why did he seem increasingly suspicious? Master, looking quite displeased, quickly drained his teacup and tapped his fingers rhythmically on the table.
‘Huh?’
Watching those large hands move like they were playing piano keys, I inexplicably recalled that night’s memory.
“…I like large hands that play piano well.”
Why was I spouting unsolicited TMI to Isidore? Was I being self-conscious?
Memories from that drunken night were like an onion—the more you peeled, the more embarrassing and ridiculous they became. I inadvertently swallowed a sigh and pressed my forehead.
“So you really do have something on your mind, don’t you?”
“Master.”
“Why did you suddenly frown?”
“Frown? Don’t I look cool and composed instead?”
I practiced the expression I’d wear in front of Isidore.
“With the corners of your mouth raised, you do look cool, but it’s quite sudden.”
“Is that so? Sigh, I can’t concentrate today. I should head home.”
In the end, I finished our awkward conversation and rose from my seat. I had received Armand’s sales receipts for this month, and the opening date for the second location was written in the note, so there was nothing left to accomplish.
‘But why would he suddenly hand over someone else’s weakness for free?’
Inside the carriage heading home, I turned over Master’s suspicious words in my mind and belatedly grasped the meaning behind them.
‘Could he have heard about the marriage proposal from Montes?’
Was he giving me Montes’s weakness to make it easier to refuse the proposal, just as I had with Louis Gazel?
‘But Master isn’t the type to meddle in others’ affairs.’
As a service to a VIP client, Montes couldn’t even compare to Gazel.
‘Why would a penny-pincher suddenly take on such a bothersome risk?’
I gazed out the window, feeling uncertain.
* * *
‘He’s always so handsome.’
The Fifth Princess watched Isidore approach in his navy-blue White Knight Order uniform, admiring him inwardly. The maids gazed at him with enchanted expressions, as though observing a work of art.
“Knight Isidore. Is this the first time since the Epsilon gathering? So many people were unusually drunk that day—it ended in quite a mess.”
Isidore, recalling a certain adorably intoxicated person, offered an ambiguous smile.
“Your Highness, is today the day for Mana Club activities?”
“Are you perhaps interested in my club? Unfortunately, I’m not particularly interested in you.”
“…No, that’s not it. I came to see Deborah Simour.”
“Hmm. She seems busy with Academy lectures these days. It looks like she won’t be attending today. What a shame.”
‘For some reason, it feels like she’s been avoiding the Frat House lately.’
But only a week had passed since the gathering. It was too early to jump to conclusions.
Isidore deliberated for a moment, then turned his steps toward the Magic Department. He had confirmed the Simour Family carriage standing at the East Gate, so Deborah Simour was definitely somewhere within the Academy.
And Isidore knew her movements well.
Last spring, knowing she wouldn’t spare him a single glance, he had deliberately positioned himself along the paths she frequented.
‘Back then, I thought it was mere curiosity.’
There was also the stubbornness of wanting to uncover her secrets as an information broker. The way she provoked him with the same methods stirred his competitive spirit.
But now, among countless people, only she stood out vividly before his eyes, and time seemed to flow as though under a slow magic spell. Her every gesture, every expression was etched sharply onto his retinas. Each time, she left an intense afterimage that occupied his consciousness.
The moment Isidore’s gaze met Deborah Simour’s as she slowly walked out from the Magic Department entrance with a cold expression, he found himself biting his lip. She wore the same angry look he’d seen at Blanche yesterday, then immediately twisted her lips into a crooked smile.
On the surface, she appeared composed and cold, but the tips of her ears gradually flushed crimson.
As though she were conscious of something.

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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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