Isn’t Being A Wicked Woman Much Better? - Chapter 125

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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 125
Isidore Visconti held the child’s gaze for a moment before bending his knee in greeting.
“I’m Isidore Visconti.”
“I am Enrique Simour.”
Enrique offered a curt introduction as if drawing a line, his wary eyes gripping Deborah Simour’s hand more firmly.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Prince Enrique.”
Watching the man who seemed to be dusted with gold powder, Enrique made no response, instead pouting his lips like a chick.
“….”
Unprepared for this sudden succession of meetings with her family, Isidore felt awkward and moistened his increasingly parched lips.
“It seems Enrique is quite nervous.”
Deborah Simour, besotted as she was, interpreted Enrique’s cool demeanor through her own lens and gently stroked his hair. As if she’d never glared at Isidore so sharply before, Enrique gazed up at her with the innocent expression of a puppy.
“This is my first time meeting one of sister’s acquaintances. And I find unfamiliar people unsettling….”
“I see.”
Demoted coldly to the status of mere acquaintance, Isidore couldn’t help but feel a pang of melancholy as he watched Deborah Simour nod along with a gentle smile.
“He’s kind… no, handsome, so you needn’t be so intimidated, Enrique.”
Deborah Simour smiled softly and gave the child’s hand a light shake.
‘Even in this situation, she’s beautiful.’
Isidore’s gaze was momentarily captivated by her tender expression before he flinched at the child’s piercing stare.
‘He really does dislike me, doesn’t he?’
“I’m so excited to see my first opera with sister.”
Enrique spoke, his pointed eyes widening into round ones.
“Really? So am I.”
Deborah Simour gazed at Isidore as if seeking agreement, barely containing her soaring smile.
“Knight Isidore. My little brother is truly clever and admirable, isn’t he?”
“Yes. He’s a truly adorable little brother.”
Enrique was cute enough to remind one of a grey kitten. His eyes bore a resemblance to Deborah Simour’s, which made him all the more endearing.
Then the child suddenly spoke with an indignant expression.
“I’m not cute. I’ll be bigger.”
“That’s… right. Enrique is very impressive.”
Deborah Simour hastily added.
‘So he particularly dislikes being called cute.’
Uncertain if he’d misjudged, Isidore felt his spirits dampen further as the child’s expression grew even more sullen than before.
“….”
Soon after, inside the theater, Enrique naturally settled into the seat between Deborah Simour and Isidore Visconti.
‘I never anticipated this situation.’
He’d expected to sit beside Deborah Simour at least. With only the adorable child between them, it felt as though a towering wall had been erected between himself and her.
They weren’t even officially courting yet, and he’d already earned the enmity of the Simour direct line. For instance, the expensive tea he’d sent to Duke Simour—far costlier than the gold powder—was being steadily returned, as if to say he should enjoy it himself.
‘Something is going terribly wrong.’
Isidore kept his gaze fixed awkwardly forward as he pondered this.
* * *
“Sister, the opera was truly delightful. And the organ performance was absolutely wonderful.”
Enrique squeezed Deborah’s hand, his eyes sparkling with delight. Despite the villain standing beside them whom he ought to reject, he couldn’t help but feel exhilarated and joyful now that he was outside with his sister.
“Let’s come again, Sister!”
“Of course. Let’s visit often.”
Deborah Simour’s eyes widened as she smiled warmly.
‘She makes the next promise so easily. And frequently at that…’
Isidore found himself envying the princess’s younger brother.
The excited Enrique chattered away to Deborah about the opera’s plot, then suggested they stop by the Souvenir Shop in front of the Theater. While Deborah browsed the bookshelf displaying the opera’s original novel, Isidore walked toward the toy display.
‘He’s a child, so he must like toys, right?’
He casually selected the most refined carriage-shaped toy in the shop and approached Enrique.
“Young Prince Enrique. It’s a gift because I’m delighted to meet you. Let’s see each other again.”
Isidore offered the gift with the warmest smile he could muster, but Enrique coldly refused.
“Father told me never to accept gifts from people he doesn’t know well, because they’re dangerous.”
His eyes held a resolute determination that such shallow manipulation would never work on him.
‘As expected, there’s no chance.’
“And Father said Sister will focus solely on her studies for a while.”
Isidore sensed a faint possibility that Duke Simour was behind this situation.
“Young Princess Deborah maintains an excellent balance between work and leisure, so there’s no need to worry about that aspect, Young Prince Enrique.”
“W-well, anyway, I won’t accept it!”
From this point on, perhaps Father hadn’t instructed him further, so Enrique’s words became disjointed.
As the two continued their conversation, Deborah approached with her selected book. Both of them simultaneously reached for the purple flower-shaped pin that the opera’s prima donna had worn in her hair. Their hands overlapped side by side before hastily pulling apart.
‘This suits her best.’
In that moment, understanding passed between them.
“Sister!”
“Deborah.”
“Huh? What?”
“This.”
Deborah was flustered to see that both of them held the identical pin in their hands.
Then Enrique, straining with his short arms, bounced on his toes trying to fasten the flower pin in Deborah Simour’s hair.
“Here!”
“There’s no one quite like our adorable Enrique.”
Moved by his heartbreakingly precious cuteness, she didn’t hesitate for even a second before pulling him into a tight embrace.
‘He was rejected!’
Enrique’s eyes gleamed triumphantly toward the dazed golden-dusted(?) prince, like a cat that had snatched a fish.
* * *
“Knight Isidore. Are you perhaps sulking… or rather, upset?”
The day after the opera, I met Isidore at the Academy Frat House. He had skipped the letter he usually sent through Muffin every morning, so I couldn’t help but worry that his feelings might be slightly hurt.
“Surely not. I anticipated this all day since you called it a date, carefully selected my cologne, and went out—only to have you arrive with your younger brother. There’s no reason I’d sulk over something so trivial.”
‘So he was holding it in his heart after all.’
I opened my mouth with an embarrassed feeling.
“To be honest, I’ve been so indifferent that I’ve never properly taken my brother anywhere. So I couldn’t bring myself to refuse. I wanted to introduce Knight Isidore to my cute and clever brother.”
“….”
“Enrique is rather shy, so the two of them didn’t become close.”
Isidore’s expression grew ambiguous, so I tilted my head.
“What’s wrong?”
He shook his head and spread a handkerchief across the bench on the Walking Path. A sudden cold wind threatened to sweep it away, but he easily secured it with magic.
“Sit here.”
“Oh, okay.”
He draped his duffle coat over my lap.
“Actually, I wasn’t upset at all. Even if you were just Deborah Simour’s sister, I probably would have followed you anyway. I would have followed you, and then immediately sensed how dark and scheming you are, and tried to bite you.”
He narrowed his eyes and smiled like a fox.
“I thought you’d come find me first, so I deliberately didn’t send a letter this morning. I wanted to see you like this, right away.”
He gently brushed my windswept hair behind my ear.
“You’re quite affectionate, aren’t you?”
I blinked in bewilderment, and when his leather glove touched my ear, it burned as if singed by fire, so I coughed awkwardly.
“W-well, I’m not that affectionate.”
“You’re more than affectionate enough to me. And honestly, I prefer how you’re blunt and cold to others.”
“….”
“I’ll make an exception for Enrique since he’s adorable.”
“Right? He’s incredibly cute, isn’t he?”
“Yes. Enough to make me feel a sense of crisis. I’ll have to work harder.”
Isidore chuckled, then stared at me as if he had something to say.
“What?”
“Ah, do you have time this evening….”
Before he could finish, I heard hurried footsteps approaching from a distance.
‘Who is it? An Epsilon member?’
This section of the Walking Path was secluded and rarely visited by members, so I felt both puzzled and flustered. They would surely think we were on a secret date.
‘Actually, we’ve already been seen together openly, so rumors must have spread. The secret dating part is true too.’
I was still wondering if rumors had spread about me blackmailing Isidore, but the person who appeared before me was not an Epsilon member—it was Isidore’s retainer. He was an unremarkable man, but I remembered him from passing by several times.
“Miguel. What’s the matter?”
Isidore asked in a blunt tone.
“Young Master. Something has come up.”
The retainer glanced at me. The atmosphere suggested I should leave, so I stood up.
“I’ll contact you later.”
At his words, I nodded and quickly walked away. Perhaps because I sensed the serious atmosphere emanating from the retainer’s expression, worry clung to me heavily.
‘It’s probably nothing serious.’
Isidore was such an absurdly overpowered character that he would handle it well. I climbed into the carriage with an anxious feeling.
It didn’t take long to learn what had happened to someone as famous as Isidore.

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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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