The Problem Is, My Ex-Boyfriend and I Are Both Dating Other People - Chapter 60

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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 60

As I narrowed my eyes, Love grinned, baring her teeth.
“I knew you’d figure it out. His Highness was so taken with her that he bought her that estate, and haha—but once Her Highness the Crown Princess returned, his visits stopped dead, didn’t they?”
“The way you’re bringing it up, it sounds like they haven’t actually broken things off.”
“That I couldn’t say. But we were planning to run a piece on it—ah, we were going to headline it ‘After the Wedding March Clears Away the Past?’ Anyway. That’s not what matters. I dug into his background a bit, and there’s something odd—the trail just vanishes.”
“…Surely not.”
A thought that had flickered through my mind brought me up short. Daemon had always been dutiful when he monopolized a courtesan—buying estates, showering her with jewels. But once he tired of her, the courtesan would quietly disappear, and he would hunt for a new one.
Until now, I’d assumed he’d paid off each courtesan generously and sent her away.
But if it weren’t that?
Why hadn’t anyone thought to examine this before?
I found my answer as soon as I asked the question. Because they were courtesans. Unconnected, beautiful women who made a splash in high society each season, only to vanish quietly when it ended—there was nothing strange about that at all.
Love, reading my expression, elaborated.
“Looking deeper, she turned out to be from Rowan, her Imperial was rough, and she had no connections. But for the past two months or so, she hasn’t left the house.”
“The estate?”
“Since her death hasn’t been officially registered, ownership hasn’t transferred. But what I discovered only now is that all the courtesans who’ve been favored by him have been living in the same estate.”
“What…?”
Seeing my shock, Love added meaningfully.
“Why would anyone insist on a single estate unless His Highness the Crown Prince had some compulsion about it?”
Building a secret space within an estate is common in noble houses. Every aristocratic estate in the capital likely has at least one. The Imperial Palace, needless to say, was full of them.
Repositories for all of a family’s secrets and sordid history.
Such spaces were indispensable, but they came with a cost: you couldn’t easily relocate the property or undertake major renovations without risking exposure.
When our eyes met, Love’s gaze narrowed. She’d clearly arrived at the same conclusion as I had.
“Courtesans are like that. One day they vanish, and no one looks for them, no one wonders, and no inquiry is ever opened. Who would find it odd if a courtesan from nowhere bought an expensive estate? Everyone would just assume she’d landed a generous patron.”
And once the owner died, the estate would return to the market. A perfect scheme.
“Courtesans usually cluster together. Think of 12th Avenue as housing courtesans and their attendants only. So when an estate on the market comes up for sale, no one but a courtesan would buy it.”
“Which means Troubleup manages those properties.”
“Ah, did it show?”
“Otherwise, there’s no way you’d know all these details.”
“Ayu. Just a small operation, you see. Troubleup is a broadsheet for everyone, after all? Since we sell so cheaply, we need another stream of income somewhere.”
What she really meant was that they’d deliberately opened up real estate operations in a neighborhood where courtesans congregated.
Courtesans came with aristocratic gossip attached like a label. I swallowed a sigh. Troubleup had clearly burrowed far deeper into the Empire than I’d thought.
“There—surely that’s payment enough?”
Love slid a paper with an address across to me, smiling brightly.
“Since the Flower of Rowan still owns the estate, we can’t touch it just yet. But who knows? An opportunity might present itself sooner than we think. Now, shall we begin the interview?”
The open notebook, the gleaming eyes—it was all unbearably tiresome. But I’d made a promise, so I had no choice.
Love crossed her legs as if settling in for a couples’ therapy session, then pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose.
“Don’t worry, sir. We just like to point and giggle at the exalted ones up in the sky that commoners like us could never reach. We have no intention of putting you in a difficult position.”
That was precisely the problem, wasn’t it?
I’d almost said that you’d already put me in a difficult position a decade ago.
“Fine. You’ve earned at least one question. What do you want to know?”
At my question, Love turned her gaze aside. Sunlight glinted off her spectacles.
“Is it true that the Earl of Winston is clinging to the Duke of Bella?”
Damn it!

* * *

[SHOCKING! The Three Roses, Symbol of House Winston, Are a Sign of Unwavering Devotion?
—The Northern Aristocrat’s Eternal Love]
My hand trembled as I crumpled the cheap newsprint. Was I angry? The paper didn’t tear as easily this time.
“Damn it.”
I wasn’t shaking with anger—I was shaking with betrayal.
After the secret interview ended, I’d dragged Love to a corner and used both incentives and threats to extract a promise that the interview wouldn’t appear in Troubleup. I’d honestly considered drawing up a contract or even using Magic to seal her lips permanently.
But the reason I hadn’t resorted to such measures was that I had faith and trust in Love.
More precisely, I trusted the thirty gold coins I’d handed over. God. How had I forgotten the eternal truth that trust is followed by betrayal? I shook the crumpled gossip sheet and demanded, “What is this?”
“Today’s edition of Troubleup. Haha. Ah, we changed the paper stock a bit. When we advertised the close-up exposé beforehand, the advance orders alone…”
“So you wrote this?”
Love broke into a wide smile, wearing a robe with Bella’s seal embroidered on her chest.
“Yep.”

“Didn’t you pinky-swear with me that you wouldn’t take it?”
“Ah. So I’ve brought back every coin exactly as it was. Ha ha ha.”
I laughed watching the yapping dog.
“Come now, I wouldn’t pocket your money, sir. Since I couldn’t keep my promise, I haven’t touched a thing—brought it back pristine! Really, absolutely pristine!”
Watching Love boast about the obvious, I hesitated for a moment.
‘Should I kill this wretch or not.’
I knew one thing for certain, whatever else: Troubleup had fallen out of my favor from the very first interview.
Since that was the condition, I endured Love’s prying into trivialities. I endured it when she composed that tiresome ditty asking when I’d meet with Richard. I endured her drivel about love—what did I think of it, what was my ideal type—all supposedly for the sake of her report.
I endured quite a lot.
I endured it while thinking, not without wonder, that interviews could actually proceed this way… but.
‘Surely a little beating wouldn’t hurt?’
It seemed to me I could afford that much.
Love must have read my true feelings in my gaze, for she quickly arranged her face into a grave expression.
“I understand your feelings perfectly, sir. I cannot even imagine how deeply troubled you must have been when the results came out differently than expected.”
“Don’t understand me.”
“Come now, why do you say that? We are as one, are we not?”
“Noah, bring me a sword.”
Noah, who had been finding this situation absolutely hilarious, composed a solemn expression the moment my gaze fell upon him and brought the sword. Well, brought it—he tore down the one hanging as a decoration on the wall.
If my memory served, that blade had been hanging there for hundreds of years. Would the sword actually come free from its sheath?
Setting aside my misgivings, I took it—and Love cried out in alarm.
“I really do understand, I promise!”
“Right. I’m truly heartbroken things ended like this. But Love, you—the one who understands so much—you printed a story saying that the moment I broke up with Richard, I started dating Daemon, didn’t you?”
“When was that? Why suddenly bring up old history—”
“You dug into my secret affair when Richard was still a novice knight and ran it on the front page, didn’t you?”
“Wait, wait just a moment. Sir, sir?”
“Yes. I knew it was your doing.”
As expected, the blade wouldn’t come free. In fact, I doubted there was any edge left on it at all. This sword had belonged to the first Duke of Bella—it was over a thousand years old.
Not that I truly intended to kill her. What kind of world was this, anyway, to just go around murdering people? That would cause real trouble. But a beating—now that, I could certainly explain away.
I laughed broadly and raised the ornately decorated blade high.
“No, wait! For the people’s right to know! Just a moment, sir. Just a moment!”
Whoosh!
“You do love talking about rights, don’t you!”
“But what kind of lady swings a sword!”
“I’m not just any lady—I’m a duchess. And I’ll have you know, I swing a blade far better than you do!”

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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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