Isn’t Being A Wicked Woman Much Better? - Chapter 28

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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 28
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My ears were practically itching from the constant whispers of the Academy’s young ladies whenever they looked at me lately.
My reputation couldn’t get any worse anyway, so I didn’t much care—but every time I recalled being misunderstood as having done such a thing because I “liked Philaf,” a slow-burning irritation would rise within me.
Even if I wanted to explain myself, there wasn’t a single young lady willing to listen to my side of the story, and I doubted even I would believe that Deborah Simour had tried to help Miya up after she’d tumbled over on her own.
I’d thought that as long as I avoided the heroine, everything would be fine, but these wretched people had actually hit-and-run on a villainess who was minding her own business.
‘But… something feels off about this.’
The more I thought about it, the more the entire situation felt unnaturally contrived, and I found myself scratching my arm.
Could Miya Binoshu really not have known who I was?
I’d encountered Miya on the Academy’s first day during a political etiquette lecture, and her rare purple hair and fierce appearance made her unforgettable once seen. There was no way Philaf hadn’t warned Miya about the ferocity and danger of the purple-haired girl.
Even if Philaf hadn’t given her a separate warning, it was strange that there wasn’t a single person around her cautioning her about me.
Anyone with ears to hear would know how terrifying a person I was. The fact that Miya had specifically asked me for help while Philaf was nearby felt suspicious.
“Hmm.”
But if Miya knew who I was… I couldn’t quite understand why she would take such a risk and act that way.
In the original novel, Miya had walked a thorny path thanks to Deborah Simour’s hard carry, but now she was walking an easy road and deliberately trying to enter a difficult one.
‘Even if it wasn’t a flower-strewn path, I was letting her walk on flat ground… but I keep getting the feeling that she deliberately tried to provoke me.’
Why, exactly? Could it be that she needed a villain, just like in the original?
But if that were the case, another question arose.
Why would she need a villain?
‘Sigh, this feels like I’m making too many logical leaps… I’m the one writing a novel here.’
Why did the author abandon the serialization midway? It would have been better if I’d entered a completed novel instead.
After setting up several hypotheses and making conjectures, I swallowed the ambiguous feeling and stepped outside to get some fresh air. Whenever my head hurt and life felt suffocating, escapism was inevitable.
My destination was the Rose Garden that Duke Simour had recently renovated.
To be honest, I loved this garden very much. And in my previous life, I had been quite fond of flowers as well.
Memories from the past that have already slipped away and cannot be recovered aren’t particularly precious. But the memory of sitting quietly in a flower field as a child, listening to the sound of the wind with my eyes closed, and slowly inhaling the fresh fragrance—that remained vivid even now.
‘Flowers really do lift my spirits. How strange.’
Buried among the blooming flowers, a gentle sensation descended upon me, as if someone were whispering kindly. Walking through the vast garden filled with flowers of every color, I was able to shake off my complicated feelings, at least a little.
“The weather is quite nice.”
A breeze carrying the fragrance of flowers lightly brushed my cheek. Bees flew about and circled threateningly around me, but I preferred this garden far more than the Rose Garden, which seemed to contain only artificial flowers.
“Is something troubling you?”
I had been gazing at the daisies swaying delicately with the wind when I slowly turned around at the deep, resonant voice coming from behind me.
“…Father.”
Calling Duke Simour “father” while looking at his face had become quite natural by now. He was the only person in this desolate world who sought me out.
After returning from the Territory, Duke Simour had begun actively seeking me out.
Ten days ago.
Duke Simour had sent his Aide to summon me to his Office, then led the way to the Rose Garden once all the construction was complete.
“Look at this. Isn’t it far more splendid than a diamond?”
He spoke with a proud tone.
“Indeed, it is.”
I was inwardly flustered but agreed with his words.
‘I need to look good in front of my patron.’
Not that it was empty flattery. Thanks to the marigolds blooming in abundance, the Rose Garden presented a spectacular sight from the very entrance, as if someone had scattered gold dust across the entire space.
“I’ve employed several plant hunters to bring rare flora and seeds from various countries. With such an incomparable diversity of species planted here, the brilliance and beauty speak for themselves. When I toured it earlier, it was so radiant—like having a rainbow contained within the garden itself.”
As I listened to Duke Simour’s endless boasting, I barely suppressed the laughter threatening to burst forth. He was undoubtedly still holding onto my earlier remark that a colorless, odorless garden was no different from a diamond.
‘This man has a bit of a petty streak and holds grudges…’
Duke Simour, who had always seemed difficult to me, felt remarkably human that day, and I found myself able to shake off the awkwardness and continue the conversation naturally.
“I’ve only seen the entrance of the Rose Garden, but I can already imagine its scale. It must surely be more grand and beautiful than the Imperial Garden.”
“Ahem! Such remarks could invite misunderstanding, so it’s best not to say them outside. Of course, you’re welcome to say them in front of me.”
He cautioned me about my reckless words, yet his lips twitched upward. Comparing his ambitiously crafted Rose Garden to the Imperial Garden and lavishing praise on it seemed to delight him.
“May I look inside?”
“If I intended to restrict your access, why would I have brought you here in the first place? Feel free to admire it as you wish.”
Since I genuinely enjoyed viewing flowers, I felt genuinely excited inside. I bowed my head slightly toward him in gratitude and then smiled without thinking.
It wasn’t a forced smile manufactured to look good. It was a laugh that emerged naturally from genuine joy.
Leaving Duke Simour behind as he suddenly flushed and coughed, I stepped into the Rose Garden with anticipation.
I thought he would return without hesitation after boasting so much and receiving my acknowledgment that the garden was more beautiful than jewels, but Duke Simour clasped his hands behind his back and followed me slowly.
‘…Could this be a silent demand for more praise? He does have a rather childish side.’
I stopped every five steps and muttered clichéd phrases to myself—fantastic, beautiful, like stepping onto a rainbow hill, and so on. About half was genuine, and half was flattery mixed in.
‘I want to stay in this five-star hotel of a mansion for a very long time.’
“Much time has already passed. Aren’t you hungry?”
Satisfied with my empty praise, Duke Simour hinted that day that we should dine together.
‘I’ve finally reached a level where I can naturally dine together without needing the Duchess’s letter!’
I readily accepted his invitation to share a meal.
“Deborah. Your appetite seems to have increased considerably lately.”
“…Pardon?”
“The Head Steward mentioned that you don’t leave any food on your plate.”
As I was chewing a well-cooked veal dish with gusto, I nearly spat out the meat at Duke Simour’s sharp observation.
‘Now that I think about it, Deborah had a constitution where she didn’t gain weight easily, so she was always managing her weight carefully.’
I hadn’t expected my eating habits to reach his ears. As my fork slowed slightly from the shock, Duke Simour clicked his tongue lightly.
“It’s a compliment—you eat so heartily and pleasantly that it’s nice to watch. Even I, watching from the side, find my appetite stirred.”
He called over a servant and had two more plates of veal brought.
According to Deborah’s memories, Duke Simour was a workaholic who neglected his meals, and at family gatherings, he would eat halfheartedly with a cold expression. But that day, the Duke consumed a large amount of food and, with the satisfied face of a contented feline, even savored the cake served for dessert.
‘Could it be that my eating sparked his appetite?’
My suspicion must have been correct.
From that day onward, Duke Simour frequently summoned me to dine with him. He would then watch me eat with the delighted expression of someone watching a mukbang YouTuber. Of course, I enthusiastically met his expectations.
Just two days ago, we had taken a stroll through the garden together before dining.
With all this, the title of father naturally began to roll off my tongue with ease.

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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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