Isn’t Being A Wicked Woman Much Better? - Chapter 177

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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 177
“Do you think Deborah Simour will accept Duke Visconti’s proposal of engagement?”
The Third Prince crushed the charred end of his cigarette against the table’s edge as he asked the question.
“Unless something unexpected happens, she’ll accept the engagement and proceed to marriage. Why would she refuse a proposal from a man considered the most desirable groom in High Society?”
“Duke Visconti’s devotion is quite remarkable as well.”
“Heh. Visconti and Simour. A marriage that benefits both sides equally—a truly profitable arrangement.”
Count Loien poured wine into the Third Prince’s glass with a smirk, and the nobleman beside him nodded in agreement.
“I must confess, I envy Duke Visconti. I’ve heard that Deborah Simour operates quite a substantial Trading Company. The income is apparently quite lucrative.”
“It’s not just the Trading Company. There’s a rumor that the lady received a ruby mine as a gift from Duke Simour.”
Everyone gasped at the mention of a mine. These men, who indulged in entertainment and spent money recklessly, were always short on funds.
“When Duke Visconti appeared as her partner at the Spring Flower Festival, everyone was puzzled. But now I see he had more foresight than anyone.”
“A father-in-law who is the Magic Tower Master, a ruby mine as a dowry. And that’s not all—the lady subtly sets trends in High Society. She’s someone who makes you proud to have at your side. Frankly, I’d be willing to tolerate her notoriously sharp temperament. Heh.”
Amid this materialistic and blunt conversation, someone raised a question.
“But there’s a rumor that Deborah Simour, famous for her prickly nature, is the incarnation of a saint… How does that make sense?”
“That must be baseless gossip. Miya Binoshu being the saint makes far more sense.”
“True. Miya Binoshu has the pink hair that symbolizes a saint, and she’s been volunteering in the slums all this time…”
“But surely renowned scholars wouldn’t commit perjury as a group?”
“With a fire happening, even the most brilliant scholars wouldn’t be in their right minds, would they?”
As the Third Prince listened to his companions debate the saint, he drank wine one glass after another. His lips, wet with alcohol, twisted into a strange smile.
He knew the truth—that Miya Binoshu was a fake created by his mother using demonic power, and that Deborah Simour, whom everyone dismissed as impossible, was actually the real saint. Isidore Visconti had claimed her.
‘A fake…’
Since childhood, his mother had spoken as if it were a habit, swearing that she would place all the world’s treasures in his hands.
“Harvy. You are a chosen child. If you do as I say, you can have the entire world at your feet.”
When I was young and naive, I believed her words absolutely and headed to the frozen Northern Region. After all that hardship, I returned to the Capital, only to find that what fell into my hands was not the real thing, but a laughable fake saint. The real saint was claimed by that bastard Isidore Visconti…
Perhaps it was the alcohol, but Duke Visconti’s contemptuous gaze and Deborah Simour’s mocking tone came vividly back to life. Isidore’s cynical look that pierced through his base nature had a way of stimulating the inferiority complex lurking within him.
‘I’m of imperial blood. I’m the Emperor’s son!’
Why do those insignificant wretches dare to look down on me? Why do they hold everything that should be mine?
Feeling his insides twist violently, the Third Prince gripped the glass in his hand with crushing force.
“Your Highness, are you alright?!”
The glass shattered into fragments, and the nobles around him paled, but all the Third Prince heard was a ringing in his ears.
‘I’m tired of being swayed by Mother’s words.’
Blood began to pool in his empty palm, and he smiled with a metallic taste as he slowly clenched and unclenched his fist.
* * *
In her dream, Naila gazed at a red moon that seemed to be full of blood. It was a far more ominous light than the red moon she’d seen in photos online.
And beneath that crimson moon, Naila was indulging in unexpected self-pity.
‘I knew I was a foolish human. You criticized me as a pushover all this time, so why are you suddenly pushing me away?’
She muttered to herself in melancholy.
‘Am I really the type to bore someone so easily?’
The words of a man resembling Isidore—that he wasn’t interested in good women—had shocked Naila deeply. But as I, observing the memories of my past life from a third-person perspective, I began to understand why he suddenly pushed her away and acted spitefully.
‘…Naila was actually quite popular.’
When I crossed the Desert, it was just the man and Naila, but upon our triumphant return to the Capital after overcoming adversity, quite a number of reinforcements welcomed her. The Eldest Son of Hystech Family was childhood friends with Naila, and the twin Grand Mages of Simour cherished and loved her like a daughter.
But that wasn’t all. Those who appeared to be invited by Orgo and Montes House were also close to her.
‘…I was jealous. I was truly jealous.’
As I was inwardly clicking my tongue, my vision suddenly turned crimson, and with an ominous cry of a raven, the sky began to gradually stain itself in a dark red hue.
Naila’s memories were now drawing ever closer to their end, and I awoke with cold sweat streaming down my face.
“Hah….”
The moment I saw the familiar ceiling, a sigh of relief escaped unbidden. Though it was merely a dream, my heart was pounding painfully hard because the scene of the Demon Realm’s gate opening had unfolded vividly before my eyes.
I wiped the cold sweat from the nape of my neck and turned my head. The sky beyond the window was filled only with thick dark clouds drifting slowly, exactly as usual. Yet the blood-red sky I had seen in the dream kept flickering before my eyes, so I could not fall back asleep and tossed and turned for a long time.
After tossing about for some time, the faint light of dawn was already seeping in through the window. To change my mood, I lightly flicked the lucky coin that Isidore had gifted me upward.
I gazed at the gleaming face of the coin for a while before rising from bed.
‘It’s been a while since I woke up this early.’
Usually I sleep in as long as I please, but for once, I rose at an early hour and took a stroll around the Annex Building. During my walk, I overheard servants gossiping near the Garden Courtyard.
“My goodness! They’re decorating the ship with flowers?”
“Yes. Duke Visconti gifting the ship to the young lady, and his winning bid on the Lavender Diamond—it was all to propose a formal engagement.”
Finding Isidore’s actions romantic, the servants let out excited squeals from all around.
“Moreover, I heard he bought fireworks. Could he be planning to propose on the night of her birthday?”
“Just hearing about it is so romantic. A proposal on the water!”
As I listened to their chatter, I scratched my chin with an ambiguous feeling.
‘The rumor is spreading much faster than I expected.’
The source of that rumor—that Isidore would formally propose to me aboard the pristine white ship named after my pet name—was actually me.
Of course, as always, my accomplice was Isidore.
That day.
In other words, from the moment I learned that Fourth Empress Jamila was behind the attempt on my life, I fell into deep thought. Since the other party already knew I was the true Saint, they would surely be watching for an opportunity to take my life.
‘Alas, such is my fate.’
I was equally certain that the Fourth Empress was behind it, so in terms of score, we were even, but the problem was that there was absolutely no concrete evidence to investigate or interrogate the Imperial Family.
Moreover, the fact that she had hidden her identity for so long within the Imperial Court, which had strictly rejected Black Magic, was also proof that it would be difficult to obtain evidence that the Fourth Empress was a Black Mage.
‘…First, I need to draw the enemy lurking in darkness into the light.’
Due to prolonged persecution, the Black Mages would be experts at hiding. The Imperial Guard had searched everywhere claiming they would catch the Black Mage responsible for the Library arson, but ultimately failed.
‘It would be better to make them come out of their own accord.’
I reached for the pristine white bishop on the chessboard atop Isidore’s desk.
“Let’s cast the bait first. Judging by how they deliberately set the Library ablaze, they seem to be in a hurry.”
“So you’re saying you’ll use a lure strategy.”
At Isidore’s words, I nodded.
“It’ll be faster than finding evidence that the Fourth Empress is a Black Mage. We’ll lure them in with an irresistible bait and then strike all at once. What do you think?”
He did not answer easily. Since their target was ultimately my life, Isidore seemed worried that I might use myself as bait.
“Don’t worry about that. My dream is to live a long and healthy life.”
“….”
“Isidore. What if we use the ship as bait?”
I slowly moved the bishop diagonally across the board.
“It just occurred to me since my birthday is approaching….”
“Speak freely.”
“Could you lend me one of your ships in the Southern Region?”
“….”
“If I host a soirée aboard the vessel, I can naturally leak information to my enemies that I’ll be on the ship.”
I continued speaking slowly, watching as the black pawn toppled the bishop with a decisive strike.
“My enemies will likely consider a ship far more vulnerable than the Library. Especially along the lower reaches of the Rene River, where the current runs fierce and dense forests line the banks—it would be easy for them to slip in undetected and launch an attack.”
A vessel floating on the river was, in essence, bait to draw them out.
“Though I’m uncertain they’ll take it….”
At my murmur, Isidore gazed at the king trapped in checkmate.
“Let’s create the probability that they will.”
Understanding my meaning, Isidore presented me with a grand ship the very next day. Moreover, he put rare jewels up for auction. Thus, people naturally arrived at the conclusion that Isidore would propose aboard that vessel.

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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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