Isn’t Being A Wicked Woman Much Better? - Chapter 139

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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 139
“Duke Visconti. As a member of the Imperial Family, shouldn’t you lower that insolent gaze of yours?”
The Third Prince spoke with a sneer, his eyes fixed on me.
“Deborah Simour. I’ve been meaning to ask—that dress you ruined last time has been bothering me. Shall we visit the Dress Shop together? Ugh—!”
The Third Prince’s words died in his throat. Isidore, who had been radiating an atmosphere so cold it made the fine hairs on one’s skin stand on end, suddenly hurled his leather gloves directly at the prince’s face. The force was so tremendous that a crimson mark bloomed across the Third Prince’s pale cheek as if he’d been slapped.
“Wh-what is this…?”
The Third Prince’s expression was utterly ridiculous. I was equally taken aback.
“Shouldn’t you at least be prepared for a duel before making advances toward my beloved in front of me?”
Despite his ferocious demeanor, Isidore spoke in an emotionless tone devoid of inflection. The suppressed rage made his voice feel all the colder.
“I’m in such a state that I can’t see straight, and I’m willing to accept Your Highness’s obvious provocation. I’m not sure why you’re so surprised.”
“Ha! You madman…”
The Third Prince could only let out a hollow laugh, utterly flabbergasted. Since picking up the gloves from the ground would signal acceptance of the duel, he remained motionless.
‘Yes, just go on your way.’
The Imperial Family’s situation differed from other nobles who couldn’t refuse a duke’s challenge. As someone with a timid pacifist nature, I desperately hoped the Third Prince would stop causing trouble, go home, and get some sleep.
“Surely you’re not backing down?”
At Isidore’s mockery, the Third Prince ground his teeth audibly.
As the tense standoff continued, the surrounding area grew increasingly noisy. The Third Prince had appeared just as etiquette classes were ending, causing Academy students to gather in the Courtyard.
My expression froze with bewilderment.
‘Damn it. I’m drawing unwanted attention again.’
My fear of being noticed was beginning to surface…
“What on earth is happening?”
“Don’t you see the gloves?”
“A fight!”
Word spread that Isidore had challenged the Third Prince to a duel, and the crowd grew larger by the moment.
“My goodness! A love triangle!”
“Heavens. And yet, with a duel about to break out over her, the lady remains so composed and cold.”
“As expected. Deborah Simour…”
“Without blood or tears…”
“Hey! Keep it down, will you? Your voices are too loud. Do you want your heads on the chopping block?”
‘That’s not it at all.’
I was simply frozen by the unexpected turn of events. Yet somehow I’d become a legendary cold-blooded woman, and the situation continued to spiral in increasingly strange directions.
* * *
Isidore was the man who wore gloves without fail, so much so that rumors of his obsessive cleanliness circulated quietly. Yet here he was, baring his bare hands for all to see.
The reason was crystal clear. The gloves lying on the ground. Two men and one woman. This obvious setup alone allowed everyone to quickly grasp the situation. Moreover, duels were most commonly fought between rival suitors during the passionate years when emotion dominated reason.
However, the fact that the instigator of this lovers’ quarrel was Duke Visconti delivered a shock to everyone. He was renowned among his fellow knights for his remarkable patience and rationality, qualities that made them shake their heads in disbelief.
“Duke Visconti is such a passionate lover, showing no restraint!”
This revelation was far more surprising than the fact that they were seriously courting each other. There had been an underlying suspicion that Deborah Simour’s backing from the Magic Tower had influenced the duke’s choice to some degree.
“H-hic. I was sure Knight Isidore threw those gloves at me… so it wasn’t a joke after all.”
Thierry, who had carelessly provoked them, belatedly felt a chill run down his spine and wiped away cold sweat.
“You know how it is—quiet, dignified types tend to burn with terrifying intensity once they fall for someone, don’t they? It seems our vice-captain Isidore is one of those cases.”
“When did the Third Prince even start taking an interest in Deborah Simour?”
“That’s what I’m wondering too.”
“Everyone knows the Countess and the Duke are courting seriously—even those deaf to gossip. The Third Prince is quite bold.”
Though distant from the direct line of succession, the Third Prince was still of imperial blood. Moreover, he was strikingly handsome, and had been casually mentioned among the young ladies in recent weeks.
When the Third Prince—once considered a dark horse—suddenly inserted himself between Duke Visconti and Deborah Simour, the picture became far more scandalous. The Academy erupted like a shaken beehive over this raw love triangle, the first such drama in ages.
Meanwhile, the Third Prince, Habier, found himself bewildered as events spiraled so dramatically.
‘She said they weren’t that serious….’
When Deborah Simour had been exchanging marriage proposals with the Montes heir, the Third Prince had assumed her relationship with Duke Visconti was merely a passing fancy—a simple reversal of affection.
But then Isidore, this northerner supposedly skilled with a blade, had suddenly challenged him to a duel, turning him into a spectacle.
‘Everything’s gone wrong.’
In truth, the Third Prince had deliberately sought out Deborah Simour during peak hours when students would be watching. In such a public setting, she wouldn’t dare act so brazenly as before, and as imperial royalty, his proposal would be difficult for her to refuse outright. The same logic applied to Duke Visconti.
The Third Prince had planned to use the pretext of compensating her for the ruined dress, escorting her to the Dress Shop under that convenient guise.
But a duel, out of nowhere. Whether intentional or not, Isidore had reframed the situation—no longer “imperial versus noble,” but “man versus man.”
‘The madman.’
The greater problem was his growing uncertainty about defeating Duke Visconti.
‘Damn it! Do I really have to risk becoming crippled over this?’
That Isidore bastard. Continuing to make a fool of me, imperial blood and all.
As the Third Prince ground his teeth so hard they creaked, the Academy Headmaster, having heard the news while passing nearby, came rushing over in a panic. He had no desire to witness, during his tenure, the first instance in Academy history of a Duke and imperial royalty drawing swords in the Courtyard.
The Headmaster pleaded desperately with these youngsters, far his junior.
“Good heavens! What on earth is happening here!”
“….”
“Please, everyone, calm yourselves!”
Fortunately, the Third Prince hadn’t yet picked up his gloves!
The Headmaster knelt before them both, beseeching them to stop.
“Out of respect for the Headmaster’s sincerity, I’ll withdraw today—but there won’t be a next time. Duke Visconti, I’ll be watching to see how long you continue such barbarism. You’ll regret what happened today.”
As the Third Prince departed with a snort, the situation ended in an absurd anticlimax.
“…Hmm. You’d think they’d at least cross blades once or twice.”
One of the young nobles watching from the window muttered with a deflated expression.
“Honestly, he probably tried his luck because she’s beautiful, realized he’s no match for her swordplay, and tucked tail.”
“Or maybe he waited until someone would come stop them?”
“A reasonable suspicion. The whole thing fell flat.”
The young nobles largely agreed it was anticlimactic, though several young ladies were earnestly debating and discussing what charm Deborah Simour possessed to drive both a Duke and imperial royalty to near-duel.
“According to Arin, her attendant, she has an icy, ruthless charisma—like a frozen queen.”
“Ah, so that’s it.”
“Whether they duel right before her or not, that cool composure and haughty dignity—it’s actually quite impressive!”
The next day.
Seeing several young ladies walking about in deep purple dresses, one young noble doubted his own eyes.
“Why are they wearing such frightening eye makeup? They look like witches.”
“It’s too intense. If that becomes fashionable, I’m not interested.”
“Watch your tongue. They’re imitating Deborah Simour.”
“Hah.”
“Mimicry? Jake! Don’t you dare mock that ugly mouth of yours!”
“We were hoping you’d at least show some effort in imitating Knight Isidore’s fashion sense and taste.”
The young ladies who overheard the young men’s conversation shot back coldly before hurrying away.
“That also seems like they’re imitating Deborah Simour’s manner of speaking. It must be my imagination, right?”
* * *
“Habier! What on earth have you been doing out there?!”
The Fourth Empress felt as though her insides were about to burst from her son’s foolishness.
Despite investing all of Miya’s precious bloodline resources, she had failed to establish proper presence in the Central Social Circle. And now her son returned having contributed to making Deborah Simour shine even brighter.
What was lost extended beyond that. By needlessly quarreling with Duke Visconti, all the hardships endured on the Northern battlefield were diluted to nothing. This was because Habier had refused the duel challenge and returned.
Most knights viewed avoiding a duel as unmanly. Especially the Northern lords, who were predominantly machismo-driven, would certainly begin to doubt and mock the Third Prince’s capabilities.
Had he been coveting Deborah Simour’s backing and made such a mess of things, he should have at least crossed swords in earnest. But her son had simply returned under the pretext of the Academy Headmaster’s persuasion, leaving her with nothing but frustration.
“No matter how earnestly the Headmaster pleaded, your judgment was a mistake.”
“There was purpose in it all. Didn’t you say everything would unfold according to my will anyway?”
Yet her grown son showed no interest in hearing her lecture and left his seat without hesitation.
‘If only the plan executes properly….’
The Fourth Empress rubbed her throbbing temple with her hand, then rose from her seat with a cold expression and disappeared somewhere.

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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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