Isn’t Being A Wicked Woman Much Better? - Chapter 67

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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 67
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Equestrian tournaments were the most popular sporting events in the Empire, with the grandest competition held in mid-August during the Founder Emperor’s birthday celebration.
Since renowned warriors competed in these matches, crowds flocked to the Capital like clouds, making the Horun District a hub of transient traffic during this season.
This summer, the Academy Alumni Plaza bustled with unusual crowds because of Armand, and a refreshing breeze swept through the area, offering respite from the oppressive heat.
“Wow.”
“Insane.”
Brilliant golden hair fell lightly across the forehead of a man with an otherworldly appearance, tracing soft curves.
Each flutter of his white shirt revealed a lithe, muscular frame with generous definition—so perfectly sculpted that onlookers felt they were gazing upon a marble statue brought to life by a master artisan.
“Goodness, for a moment I genuinely thought I was watching a sculpture move….”
“There exists someone perfect from head to toe. He’s even more handsome than the rumors suggested.”
“How can he sparkle like a star when it’s not even nighttime?”
“Perhaps his very existence is luminous?”
Everyone found their gaze inexorably drawn to the angelic man seated before the Plaza Fountain.
His facial features possessed golden proportions, as if measured and crafted by divine hands with meticulous care—a visage so striking that even the young men who boasted about being this year’s heartthrobs were left speechless.
That was when Knight Isidore, who had been sitting before the fountain with his long legs crossed as if waiting for someone, lifted his cup.
‘Is he drinking here?’
What followed was an even more bewildering and astonishing sight. He rose and walked slowly toward somewhere with the cup in hand.
‘He’s actually walking around?’
And when he arrived at his destination, a figure no one could have anticipated was standing there.
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Watching Knight Isidore naturally promote takeout service, I reflected that there truly was no better candidate for sponsorship.
‘In this world, he’s essentially a living billboard.’
As expected, he presented this new form of service in an extraordinarily elegant and captivating manner—so much so that even I, who understood advertising, felt tempted to try it myself.
“Here, the peach smoothie that Deborah Simour wanted to drink.”
Knight Isidore extended the cup with a playful smile.
“Thanks.”
The moment I accepted the cup from him, the crowd’s gaze intensified and clung even more persistently.
“I’ll enjoy it.”
Ignoring their attention, I sipped the smoothie deliberately and began walking toward the Epsilon Frat House. Though I appeared composed on the surface, my heart was thundering at 150 bpm beneath.
‘I’m actually using this world’s third-generation conglomerate heir as a beverage courier.’
Perhaps reputation truly does shape a person.
‘I… seem to be becoming increasingly reckless and shameless.’
As I walked along the Frat House promenade sipping my smoothie, I couldn’t imagine how bewildered Knight Isidore must have been when I asked him to accompany me on a walk while I drank.
“Drinking tea while taking a stroll is quite romantic and pleasant, don’t you think?”
Not only did he readily purchase the smoothie and wait for me, but seeing him in such good spirits stirred complicated emotions within me once more. That troubling hypothesis from before resurfaced—the one where he might l-l-like me… in that obsessive way. I couldn’t stop thinking about it.
Yet no matter how hard I racked my brain, I couldn’t find a compelling reason why he would like me.
‘Of course, I am extraordinarily beautiful.’
But if his interest were based solely on appearance, then in the novel, when Deborah Simour appeared, Knight Isidore would have become her supporter instead.
Lost in contemplation, Knight Isidore called out to me.
“Deborah Simour?”
“Huh? What?”
“Why do you look so serious? Is something troubling you?”
“Oh, I was just… thinking about what to have for dinner.”
He brought his angelically beautiful face so close to mine that I blurted out the excuse without thinking. A flicker of bewilderment crossed his emerald eyes.
“Dinner? I’m a bit disappointed I lost to a meal. Though I suppose food is important. What kind of cuisine do you prefer, Deborah Simour?”
He quickly shed his flustered expression and steered the conversation elsewhere.
“I eat anything. I’m not picky.”
“Same here. No preferences at all.”
Knight Isidore continued conversing naturally, asking me casual questions—did I enjoy opera or theater, what animals did I like, what were my hobbies, and so forth.
‘So Knight Isidore likes cats.’
I sipped the peach smoothie that melted sweetly across my tongue while exchanging these trivial pleasantries with him. Eventually, he approached a bench beneath a flowering tree.
“Would you like to rest for a moment?”
I always wore high heels because I preferred the elevated perspective. Apparently, he found them slightly uncomfortable to watch. Knight Isidore spread his handkerchief across the bench, and I sat down on it, feeling somewhat embarrassed.
‘Are all Empire men naturally this courteous?’
Feeling oddly self-conscious, I nibbled the rim of my cup and gazed into the distance.
The lush greenery released a fresh fragrance from all directions. As I quietly observed the small birds chirping in the branches above, Knight Isidore suddenly spoke.
“Deborah Simour. You’ll come watch the upcoming equestrian tournament, won’t you?”
“Of course.”
Deborah Simour enjoyed equestrian tournaments and attended the competitions every year.
“I’ll be competing there as a participant.”
Relaxed by the delicious drink and the adorable birds, I felt a sense of discord at his words. Knight Isidore didn’t appear in the novel’s equestrian tournament arc.
‘Was it omitted because it’s the section where Diera Orgo shines?’
At this point in the original story, the flow went roughly like this: Deborah Simour’s harassment reached its peak, and Philaf comforted Miya with all manner of gifts but failed to truly shield her. Instead, he exploited Deborah Simour’s tyranny to make Miya emotionally dependent on him.
‘He was deliberately using Deborah Simour’s wickedness to bind Miya to him spiritually.’
This was when readers began seriously condemning Philaf as trash. Miya thanked him verbally but was surprisingly cold-hearted, never truly opening her heart to him. And the character who seized that opportunity was Diera Orgo.
Philaf and Diera.
The clash between these two exceptional men was entertaining enough that other narratives were shortened. But no matter how much the story focused on Diera Orgo, it was strange that Knight Isidore didn’t appear at all.
‘If Knight Isidore is such an outstanding swordsman that he rivals Diera Orgo, according to Master’s investigation, shouldn’t he face Diera as his opponent in the tournament?’
I swallowed the complicated questions rising in my mind and looked at him.
“Are you worried you might lose?”
At Knight Isidore’s question, I shook my head.
“No. Knight Isidore will do well. You’ll achieve good results.”
Though I knew the actual tournament champion was Diera, I offered him courteous words for propriety’s sake.
‘Since he gave me product placement, I should return the favor with at least this much lip service.’
“Then cheer for me at the tournament grounds.”
His eyes crinkled with a smile, the faintest aegyo-sal appearing beneath them.
“And if you give me your handkerchief as a token of your support, that would be even better.”
Watching his golden eyelashes flutter like butterfly wings, I felt an overwhelming pressure to surrender not just the handkerchief but everything I possessed. My fool’s instinct was screaming at me to hand it over immediately, so I hastily bit the soft flesh inside my mouth to regain composure.
Get a grip!
‘She’s subtly hinting that she wants a handkerchief in exchange for buying me a smoothie. Am I right?’
At equestrian tournaments, ladies presented handkerchiefs to the knights they supported. The number of handkerchiefs a knight received served as a measure of both his skill and popularity.
‘As expected, nothing in this world is free.’
In the end, I retrieved my most treasured handkerchief—an exquisite piece embroidered with delicate roses—and presented it to him as a gift.
“Thank you. With your support, I feel like I can win the championship.”
He smiled brilliantly as he took the handkerchief, and my heart seemed to tumble away somewhere at his gentle expression. But I deliberately turned away from such sensations, clenching my fists tightly.
* * *
“My lord. You’re participating in the equestrian tournament?”
“Yes.”
“Why? You always complained about the dust flying everywhere and the smell of sweat.”
Miguel asked with a puzzled expression as Isidore returned from equestrian tournament training. Isidore lightly rubbed his sharp jawline, glistening with perspiration. He had never intended to participate, but he had impulsively submitted an entry form.
“The Imperial Court awards decent treasures to the tournament champion.”
Isidore gave Miguel a dismissive excuse while absently playing with the paws of Cookie, who had transformed into a small cat.
“Meow!”
Cookie thrashed about indignantly, so I released her. She immediately snatched the handkerchief that had been carefully placed on the desk and began sniffing it. Seeing Cookie bare her sharp teeth and open her mouth, Isidore hastily reached out his arm.
“Cookie, no!”
“Mrrrow!”
“No treats if you bite it.”
Miguel, who had been watching his master engage in a battle of wills with a pet over a mere handkerchief with clouded eyes, quietly slipped away.
After successfully retrieving the handkerchief by coaxing Cookie with dried fish, Isidore exhaled a short sigh and leaned back in his chair. He gazed at the handkerchief for a long moment—its elaborate rose embroidery strikingly resembling the princess—before carefully folding it.
‘The equestrian tournament…’
A noisy, clamorous, and tedious event. Yet remaining a passive observer as usual felt oddly unsettling.
Knights participating in the equestrian tournament drew the concentrated attention of the ladies watching from the stands, and those who performed well could rise to stardom overnight. In short, it was an excellent stage for appearing impressive.
Moreover, he had once glimpsed information that the Princess of Simour enjoyed equestrian tournaments. If she watched the competition and found a knight to her liking, she would likely present her handkerchief to someone. For some reason, that thought deeply displeased him.
‘It wounds my pride that some random fool receives what I couldn’t.’
Isidore deliberately dismissed the childish thought while petting Cookie, who was gnawing on treats.

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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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