Isn’t Being A Wicked Woman Much Better? - Chapter 52

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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 52
“You’re being quite forward today.”
His face drew near. That impossibly handsome visage smiled playfully inches from my own, and while my breath caught at his beauty, I couldn’t help but feel exasperated.
“Wait—were you just teasing me?”
As I narrowed my eyes sharply, he quickly pointed skyward with his finger.
“Look there. It’s starting.”
Above, brilliant light cast by a mage soared through the heavens, leaving a long luminous trail in its wake.
Boom! Boom!
Fireworks erupted in succession, and the night sky flashed brilliantly as golden flames shaped like daffodils began to paint the darkness with radiance.
‘Wow.’
The spectacle drew an involuntary gasp of wonder from me.
The flames bloomed vivid crimson like roses in elaborate splendor, then burst forth cheerfully like cosmos flowers scattered across the sky.
They scattered brilliantly like dandelion seeds, then swayed gracefully like tulips. The entire sky transformed into a fantastical garden of magic.
Hearing the distant cheers of the crowd, my heart swelled with emotion.
‘If only there were beer and chicken, this would truly be perfect.’
Hoping this moment would last just a little longer, I gazed endlessly upward. The fireworks, which had bloomed in countless colors reminiscent of the Rose Garden, gradually faded to pale pink and fluttered like butterflies across the sky.
Stars seemed to fall like snow across the night, and I unconsciously reached my hand toward them.
“…It’s beautiful.”
As I murmured softly, Isidore beside me agreed in a gentle voice.
“It truly is lovely.”
* * *
After the fireworks ended, I used the teleportation scroll Isidore carried to return to the Auction House. Throughout the night view, I had been lost in a dreamy haze, and only upon arriving at the Auction House did I finally regain my senses.
‘It felt like I was having a wonderful dream.’
Even in the carriage heading home, the afterimage of the brilliant fireworks lingered before my eyes. The ancient manuscript Isidore had gifted me refused to hold my attention, so I closed the book and leaned against the window, reflecting on the day.
‘Honestly, both the Ball and the fireworks were quite enjoyable.’
I had discovered a new truth—that ballroom dancing was unexpectedly exhilarating and fun. Isidore’s tender smile and his large hands flashed through my mind like rapid flashbacks, and I hastily shook my head.
Ever since entering this tragic novel, I had found myself inexplicably excited by these unexpected events, and my heart still raced with that excitement.
‘Now that I’ve returned to reality, I need to get a grip.’
I lightly tapped my cheeks and stepped down from the carriage.
“Young Lady!”
The Aide rushed toward me with hurried steps, looking utterly haggard. Watching him catch his breath, I raised my eyebrows.
“What’s wrong?”
Unlike me, who had been savoring what felt like a sweet dream, the Aide looked as exhausted as though he’d suffered through a terrible nightmare.
“Your return has been quite delayed, and the Duke is very worried.”
“Hmm? Isn’t this relatively early for me to return? I came straight back after the fireworks ended.”
I had been worried that Duke Simour was too much of a scoundrel, but this seemed surprisingly responsible of him.
“Well, that’s… in any case, the Duke cares for you deeply and was quite concerned.”
The Aide rambled on incoherently, looking bewildered.
“Since he was worried, I should greet him briefly before retiring.”
I made my way directly toward my father’s Office.
“I’m back.”
Duke Simour didn’t turn around at my greeting, keeping his hands clasped behind his back as he gazed out the window.
Was it my imagination? Something about his broad silhouette seemed oddly sullen.
“It seems you had quite an enjoyable time. Your expression is so bright—it’s pleasant to see.”
He acknowledged my greeting a beat too late. While his words held no awkwardness, his tone and expression betrayed unmistakable displeasure.
‘Could he be upset that I went out alone?’
The Spring Flower Festival was crowded and noisy—hardly the sort of event that drew enthusiastic participation from the elderly. Duke Simour himself had openly despised the Spring Flower Festival, claiming it undermined the atmosphere of the Magic Tower.
“I heard you were concerned.”
I spoke with genuine bewilderment. The Duke cleared his throat once before opening his mouth.
“Concerned? As if you couldn’t handle yourself perfectly well. I merely asked when you’d return, but it seems my Aide exaggerated in relaying the message.”
“I see.”
“But why do you look such a mess?”
Having thrown my robe over myself and ventured into the chaotic Night Market, my appearance had become rather disheveled.
“And what is that you’re carrying?”
The Duke pointed at the Sage’s Moral Teachings tucked under my arm.
“Ah, that—I acquired it at the Night Market…”
Before I could finish, he erupted in fury.
“The Night Market?! That chaotic, disorderly place! I knew that frivolous Visconti fellow would act as he pleased. How dare he take my daughter to such a vulgar establishment!”
Watching the Duke sputter and rage, I swallowed a sigh.
‘So it was simply that he dislikes Isidore.’
Today, Isidore had come directly to this Town House to escort me to the Imperial Palace Ball. Arriving with a bouquet to collect one’s Ball partner was a common courtesy among Empire gentlemen.
“Your dress is beyond question, and the pink diamond suits you perfectly. Though I suppose anything would suit my daughter.”
The Duke, who had been subtly complimenting my Ball attire, stiffened the moment he saw Isidore descending from the carriage with his elaborate bouquet. His expression made it abundantly clear what he thought of that frivolous sparrow in his pale indigo-pink formal wear.
‘For a conservative Duke Simour, pink was far too radical.’
Fearing Isidore would be unfairly branded as frivolous by his father, I quickly spoke up.
“I went to the Night Market alone after the Ball ended. It has nothing to do with Knight Isidore.”
“If you wanted something, why didn’t you simply send a servant? Why venture into the Night Market yourself?”
“I heard rumors that rare items had appeared at the Auction House, and I wanted to verify it with my own eyes.”
“You went to an Auction House where ruffians gather? This is absolutely—tsk.”
As the Duke rattled off his complaints and took the Sage’s Moral Teachings, his brow suddenly furrowed.
‘Wait… this face looks familiar somehow.’
With a serious expression, he flipped through the worn parchment, then retrieved a small mirror from a drawer and held it up to the text. Remarkably, the incomprehensible alien script became readable—though in hasty, reversed handwriting—when reflected in the mirror.
The preface of the book, as reflected in the mirror, read: “By Belmont Simour.”
‘Belmont…? I feel like I’ve heard that name before.’
“This book was written by Belmont Simour, the sixth Head of House! He was left-handed, so he had the habit of writing in this cipher-like manner.”
‘Ah, so that’s what Isidore meant when he said it would be useful to me.’
Though it wasn’t a moral treatise written by an ancient sage, a book by the Head of House was an invaluable treasure to the direct Simour line.
“To think Lord Belmont left behind such a memoir.”
The Duke’s voice trembled with astonishment and emotion.
‘Wait?! I know that expression!’
The expression of a devoted fan discovering new merchandise of their favorite—the Duke apparently revered Belmont Simour more than any previous head of the family.
‘Knight Isidore, thank you.’
Honestly, if someone went to such lengths to hand-feed me the answer, the natural thing was to accept it gracefully. There was no need to speak the truth.
“It’s a gift for Father. The auctioneer seemed like quite the charlatan, so I’m relieved I managed to procure the genuine article.”
At my words, the Duke brushed the aged manuscript with trembling hands.
“After leaving the masquerade ball, you ventured into that chaotic place to purchase my gift….”
Ahem. An unnecessary pang of conscience stirred within me.
“W-well, it was only natural. Then, might I retire? As you can see, I’m hardly presentable.”
I began backing away discreetly.
“You must be exhausted. I’ve kept you here too long.”
“Not at all. Please have a restful evening, Father.”
It was surely just my imagination that my acting skills and cunning seemed to grow with each passing day.
Leaving Duke Simour to flounder in the depths of his delusion, I entered the Annex Building and let out a shriek of horror the moment I removed my gown.
“Kyaaaah!!”
Where is it?!
This must be a dream.
“I distinctly placed it in the inner pocket of my skirt!”
How could it be gone?!
Since unauthorized magical artifacts were forbidden within the Imperial Palace, I had been unable to bring my spatial magic pouch.
“M-my lady! Whatever is the matter?”
At my piercing cry, the attendants and maids stationed nearby came rushing over in complete panic.
“My pink diamond…! I must have lost it at the Night Market. I’m certain I placed it in my inner pocket. This can’t be happening!”
The price of a Town House… a lottery jackpot exceeding one billion….
I collapsed onto the bed as though my legs had given way.

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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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