Isn’t Being A Wicked Woman Much Better? - Chapter 165

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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 165
The unexpected proposal made me blink slowly at the Crown Prince before taking his hand.
Accepting a dance invitation from the Crown Prince was an honor, and I felt the envious gazes of noble ladies upon me—the same looks I’d experienced when walking alongside Philaf Montes.
Somewhere along the way, I’d begun playing the role of a saint, and with it came a peculiar sense of superiority.
“Everyone speaks of you as a saint with one voice. How could I not ask you to dance?”
The Crown Prince spoke with his characteristic melancholic expression.
“The more I think about it, the more remarkable it becomes. You’re not an official priest, so you should have been far from the altar when the monsters attacked. Yet your holy power reached all the way there.”
“Even I consider the power I displayed to be a miracle. It must be the blessing and providence of the divine.”
“I see.”
The Crown Prince swallowed his suspicions and studied me. The source of the holy power had clearly seemed to originate from the altar, yet since I didn’t contradict his statement about being far away, he let the matter rest.
Meanwhile, as I danced with a sense of elation, I suddenly felt my mind snap back to attention when the Crown Prince made his proposal.
“A… a holy power demonstration?”
I stumbled, like a thief whose own feet had betrayed him.
“Yes. If you were to display the power you showed in Hyanghwa before everyone, wouldn’t it lift the spirits that have been dampened by the fissure?”
“I appreciate the kind suggestion, but I have many shortcomings. That power… it consumes a great deal of holy energy and cannot be used frequently.”
Francois Marquis had repeatedly said that gathering sacred blood was not easy, so I spoke urgently.
“You’re a saint, yet you cannot use your power whenever you wish?”
At his reproachful tone, I swallowed hard.
“I can use my healing power anytime.”
“I thought all the other priests could do that much.”
‘All of them can?’
I couldn’t control the stiffening of my lips. Touching those filthy patients bleeding pus with bare hands was such an ordeal—who else would do such work besides me?
“Well, I’m already aware of your good deeds. Many nobles haven’t witnessed your power because of the black fog, and suspicions have grown. I merely wanted to create an opportunity. Let me know when you’re ready.”
“Yes…”
The soft orchestral melody had ended. I watched the Crown Prince’s retreating figure with a pallid face, feeling no regret. Sharp, needle-like pain pierced through my chest. Prick, prick.
The Young-sik who had spoken to me earlier, and all the nobles around me—they all seemed to be whispering, trying to gauge whether I was truly a saint. The fear of tumbling down that desolate cliff again seized me, and I gripped my dress tightly with trembling hands.
* * *
The Imperial Palace Terrace sparkled like scattered stars, illuminated by small mana stones woven densely together with lighting magic. I walked along the terrace corridor with Isidore, admiring the decorations placed here and there, before emerging into the garden.
A large fountain stood before the ballroom, and around it, nobles strolled to view the garden that opened only during the harvest festival season. Most were couples—husbands and wives, or lovers.
‘The perfect spot for a date.’
“Shall we go that way?”
He carefully interlaced his fingers with mine, and I swallowed the smile rising to my lips as I grasped his hand in return. With all the preparations for my debutante ball, I hadn’t had many chances to enjoy even a simple walk like this.
As we wandered through the labyrinthine garden, I heard voices from somewhere.
“She wants to switch to the dress shop that Deborah Simour uses?”
“Yes. She’s making good use of her connections.”
“Darling, Deborah Simour’s clothes aren’t something just anyone can pull off… Oops! I was joking! Joking! But has her dress shop become such a trend that you’re following suit?”
The man quickly changed his tone under the woman’s glare.
“Until last year, High Society paid no attention to what Deborah Simour wore. But recently, things have changed. Even I, who thought her arrogant, now find her confident and refined.”
“In my experience, people don’t change easily. What happened to Deborah Simour?”
“Perhaps… it’s because of Duke Visconti?”
“That’s credible. I’ve changed because of my darling too.”
Despite having no particular interest, the excessively sweet conversation that kept reaching my ears forced me to backpedal out of the garden rather than venture deeper inside.
Meanwhile, Isidore followed behind me with a far more serious expression than when he’d first entered this place.
“What’s wrong?”
“Now that I think about it, it seems Deborah Simour and I have been calling each other rather stiffly all this time.”
He was clearly fixated on the word “darling” that couple had used.
“…Why does it matter now? I’m fine with how things are.”
Darling—the moment I’d say it aloud, goosebumps would surely rise on my tongue, but Isidore seemed unaffected. He gazed at me with eyes that had grown dewy like dew-laden roses and opened his mouth.
“Why is my darling so beautiful that it makes me anxious?”
“Please….”
Surprisingly, despite such words, rather than feeling repulsed, the trap was that he delivered them with the poignant yet understated elegance of an actor renowned as a romance virtuoso.
‘That face does all the work.’
When Isidore said it, it was worth hearing, but the problem was that he was wagging his tail like a fox, hoping I would utter those soft, fluffy words myself.
“Do it for me too. Honey.”
“…I’m not good at that sort of thing.”
“My darling is lovable and adorable in every way.”
“Ah, please. Stop it already!”
I swatted his shoulders like I was shooing away flies, and he continued singing “honey” and “darling” like a round song, looking delighted even as he took the blows.
“I like you so much that sometimes I feel like I’m going mad—am I strange?”
“For you, I could pluck the stars from the sky.”
All manner of cheesy lines came as a bonus.
‘Ugh. This cunning fox has been enjoying my reactions all along.’
The moment I realized I’d fallen for Isidore’s act, pride welled up in me, and I hooked my arm through his and parted my lips.
“Ho….”
“…?”
Apparently he hadn’t expected me to actually do it—Isidore’s gaze turned puzzled.
“Honey… I love you.”
When I managed to finish the words in a soft voice, I felt his arm tense slightly against mine.
“Hah!”
Suddenly he pulled me close and kissed me repeatedly. Conscious of the people passing by, I pushed him away, and he exhaled roughly while rubbing his flushed cheeks against my palm.
“That was extremely dangerous. That term of endearment.”
“….”
“You mustn’t say it in public.”
“I won’t say it anywhere.”
“Still, perhaps once a month….”
I’d only come out to cool off the heat from dancing, but Isidore had made me even warmer. Fanning my flushed cheeks, I returned to the ballroom and found myself face to face with the Crown Prince approaching our direction.
“Duke Visconti.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“I have something urgent to discuss with you.”
While I’d stepped away briefly, the Third Prince had approached. Seeing him alone without his partner Miya, I regarded him with a suspicious expression.
“Why do you regard me with such caution when you don’t even have wine in hand? You danced beautifully, Deborah Simour. It was impressive.”
“My partner’s lead was simply exceptional. Most young nobles wouldn’t even attempt such a performance and would stumble off the floor.”
He had reminded me of that unpleasant incident when he spilled wine on my gown, so I alluded obliquely to the matter of how he had fled the duel without ever drawing his sword. Whether he failed to grasp my meaning or chose to ignore it, the Third Prince merely chuckled.
“How modest of you. I do hope I’ll have the opportunity to try next time.”
The Third Prince uttered words of uncertain sincerity before walking toward another noblewoman. I watched him flirt with her, seized by an inexplicable unease, then turned away.
* * *
The ball had entered its latter half, and Isidore and I departed the ballroom at an appropriate hour. As he escorted me back to the Simour Town House, he broached the subject discreetly the moment we entered the carriage.
“The Crown Prince suspects Miya Binoshu.”
“….”
“He appears to have discovered something amiss. The Crown Prince possesses an animal instinct and is sensitive to the flow of mana and the presence of people.”
‘…True, I cannot deceive everyone indefinitely.’
This matter was not of Miya’s doing, after all. I hesitated briefly before speaking.
“I believe there is a correlation between Miya and the fracture in the Barrier.”

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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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