I’m using the main kimamanitranslate.tumblr.com URL for my manga scanlations now. I would’ve just started updating this blog again, but then I realized I somehow got 800 followers in the years I’ve been gone, so I figured it was probably best not to spam you guys with Senyuu updates you probably don’t care about.
But if any of my new followers in the past few months are here because of my manga scanlation, you should probably head on over to there instead of here.
Started translation again, this time with manga scanlation - regular isekai time travel rather than otome isekai, but I thought the manga was fun and I was sad it was dropped.
Once I catch up with the raws with this one, I’m thinking of picking up an otome isekai again though~
Alright so first things first, so I don’t give anyone false hope - I don’t plan to continue translating.
The first few months of my impromtu hiatus it really was that I was way too busy for anything on my own time, but when I finally got free a few weeks ago I realized I wasn’t really interested in it anymore. I was finding volume 4 of DFO to be pretty boring, and the other WNs weren’t really grabbing my attention either.
And people didn’t seem interested anymore either - I was getting a lot less views and comments on anything past volume 3 of DFO, and well, since I was only doing this for a) other people’s enjoyment and b) my own enjoyment, it really lowered my motivation. The reviews on novelupdates were starting to get pretty bad too.
It seems that there was a surge in interest after the Destruction Flag Otome manga came out, so I’m really sorry, but I just can’t work up the interest anymore OTL
All of the WNs/LNs I was translating are up for grabs, naturally, and if anybody translates it next they should feel free to message me if there’s ever any translation questions they have.
Thank you to everyone who’s enjoyed my translations, even if it was for a short time in the end. I really appreciate all of you.
Sorry, uni’s been more hectic than I anticipated otn
Volume 4, Chapter 2: Where the Journey Takes Us
Part 3: Pages 119 - 132
I, Lahna Smith, also known as Suzanna Randall, have currently arrived at a rooftop of a building a little ways away from the inn I’m staying in.
I am on this rooftop because it is the highest place in the area.
I did make sure to get permission from the owner of the building. I could’ve climbed up without permission, but it might’ve ended up being a pain if I didn’t.
The reason why I needed to be in a high place is for this magic tool I’m about to use.
I thrust up a magic tool I took out from my bag. After a short while, the tool begins to tremble.
“There we go.”
Looks like it’s going to work. I speak to the tool.
“Ahem, this is Lahna Smith. Rafael Walt, do you copy?”
“Yes, I copy, Lahna-sama.”
The somewhat disgruntled voice of my subordinate comes from the tool.
“It’s a success.”
I grin.
This magic tool is an amazing tool that allows conversation over great distances. It was finally completed through many iterations and experimentation.
But since it uses wind magic, its sole drawback is that it needs to be used not only outside, but somewhere fairly high up.
However, if it’s improved upon, it may become viable for practical use. Once I return, I’ll implement some new improvements…
“Lahna-sama, Lahna-sama, do you copy?”
Rafael’s even more disgruntled voice cuts through my thoughts.
“Ah, my bad, I copy, I copy. So, how are things over there?”
“What do you mean, ‘how are things’? You pushed all the work onto me then suddenly went out on a trip – I would prefer if you wouldn’t do this,” whines my subordinate.
“But I can leave everything to you with no worries. Your skills are top class even in the Ministry of Magic,” I point out.
“… That’s not…” he says, sounding embarrassed.
On a side note, my statement wasn’t mere flattery or anything – it was nothing but the truth.
Last year, Rafael was put in the custody of the Ministry of Magic after causing a certain incident. Considering the circumstances, there weren’t many departments in the Ministry of Magic that were interested in taking him in.
At first, I went and made him my subordinate out of curiosity – I was interested in someone who used an unknown power. But now, I think of him as a splendid subordinate. His skills have helped me out greatly.
And so, it will likely be fine to leave my work to him. Thus, I change the subject and ask him about what I had asked him to do.
“Is that investigation proceeding smoothly?”
“… Yes. I’m managing that as well,” responds Rafael, letting out a small sigh.
“As expected from a subordinate of mine. So, what’s the situation?”
“Yes. Duke Claes is investigating independently, but it seems he has not found any clues as of now. The same goes for governmental officials or ministry workers who’ve accepted Duke Claes’ request.”
“I see, the enemy is pretty skilled to evade Duke Claes. What about those rumours that there’s someone using dark magic?”
“I believe those rumours are substantive. I found people that may have had dark magic cast on them.”
“I see, so those rumours are definitely true…”
A few weeks back, I heard rumours that another dark magic user had appeared. To be honest, at the time I had been just fed up by how information had leaked out again.
“So, what’s the probability that Keith Claes’ disappearance and that dark magic user are connected?”
“I do not know that yet either.”
“I see…”
On hearing those two reports for the first time, I just couldn’t imagine that they were unrelated. So I had Rafael investigate Katarina’s stepbrother Keith’s disappearance and the new dark magic user, feeling they may be connected.
“Oh, right. Send out a request under my name to Prince Geoffrey for cooperation with the investigation.”
“To Prince Geoffrey?” asks Rafael, sounding bewildered.
“Yeah, he owes a number of debts to me so I’ll use them for this. Also tell him that if he doesn’t cooperate, I won’t give him that magic tool.”
“… I see.”
Rafael seems to be a bit confused, but he agrees without prying too deeply.
Then, after a short silence, he speaks again.
“Um… so, how is Katarina-sama doing?” Rafael asks, sounding worried.
I recall that this subordinate of mine was one of those smitten with Katarina Claes.
“She’s completely convinced that Keith’s disappearance is just him running away from home. I don’t know whether to tell you to rest assured because of this, or to be worried because she’s just way too dense. And since she believes that he’ll come back immediately if we find him and she apologies, she’s just as cheerful as usual.”
“I see, I’m glad she’s doing well.”
“By the way, Maria is acting like that too – she believes the running-away-from-home story. I’m in awe at their innocence. However, unsurprisingly Sora and Prince Jared both seem to have realized something. Though they haven’t asked me anything directly.”
“I see. But if they did ask you directly, wouldn’t it be better for you to explain?”
“That’s true. If that happens, I’ll explain everything properly. But everything we know is just conjecture. Well, I’ll try investigating things over here, so I’m counting on you to continue your investigation over there.”
“Understood.”
“I’m counting on you, my reliable subordinate.”
When I try to end the conversation, I feel like I hear Rafael saying, “Seriously?” and letting out a sigh. But I trusted that Rafael would investigate properly regardless of his comments.
And so, I return to today’s inn.
In the inn rests Katarina, who believes that Keith simply ran away from home. She surely hasn’t even considered that Keith might have been kidnapped, much less kidnapped by someone who uses dark magic.
She probably hasn’t even realized that I had the light magic user Maria and the dark magic user Sora come along with us on the journey because of this danger.
I can’t help but want Keith to have really just run away from home when I watch Katarina, so pure and innocent.
I frantically continue my search for Keith, keeping the possibility that he might have been kidnapped secret in order to keep Lord and Lady Claes and their daughter from worrying.
“Please, be safe, Keith Claes, for your innocent stepsister’s sake as well,” I murmur to the night sky, walking along the path to the inn.
************
It was refreshing to wake up in the inn. Normally, I would wake up to Anne yelling, “How long do you plan to sleep!?” But today, I woke up to Maria’s kind voice saying, “Katarina-sama, you need to wake up soon or you will really be sleeping in too late.” It makes me feel different.
Though well, since it was pretty late it was a hassle getting ready as fast as possible. But Maria helped me out a lot so I made it in time.
I don’t know when Lahna came back, but by the time I woke up, she had finished all of her preparations and was elegantly drinking some tea.
Jared, while being a prince, seems to be capable of getting ready by himself. He was waiting, looking just as prim and proper as usual.
But the two of them still greeted me with a smile as I arrive late in a panic. The only one who reacted differently was the bear sitting next to Lahna. It looked at me as if it were calling me useless, so I glared at it, thinking “You impertinent little bear,” towards it.
On a side note, since Sora wasn’t there I thought that he had slept in even later than me, but apparently he had left early to gather information about Keith in the town. What a hardworking man.
But sadly, we couldn’t find any information here as well. So we decided to head out further for now.
Since we couldn’t find any information, I began to wonder whether this bear really was reliable. But Lahna strongly insisted that the bear was trustworthy, so there was nothing I could do but believe in it for now.
We ride the carriage again and head to the next town.
In the carriage, the bear sits on Maria’s lap and has her pet it. It seems it got attached to her because of yesterday. Its expression is mostly rather adorable, but when it meets my eyes, it looks at me condescendingly. A truly nasty and rude bear.
The journey is more or less proceeding smoothly, but my relationship with the bear is just getting worse.
To be honest, I do feel I’m being childish considering that the bear is just a stuffed animal. But it’s the one that’s taking a condescending and hostile attitude towards me. It can’t be helped.
Again, today the carriage carrying us rolls forwards.
We stopped by a number of towns on our way, but we couldn’t find any information on Keith after asking around.
Still, we voyage forwards, having nothing else to do at the moment. Eventually, the sun begins to set again.
Two days after our departure, we decide to rest at an inn in a town we reached at sunset.
The town we’re staying in today is a rather small country village in contrast to the town we stayed in yesterday.
Unlike yesterday’s town, there’s no marketplace, and the paths aren’t maintained properly – weeds pop up all over the place.
We park our carriage in a designated area in the outskirts of town and walk along one of these ill-maintained paths.
If this were a larger town, we could look at the various stores we pass by, but today there’s nothing to watch but the plants by the road. As I walk, gazing at the plants, I notice something nostalgic.
“Oh, this fruit!” I say, stopping to pick up a plant.
“What is that?” Maria asks in a wondering tone. She was walking next to me.
I hold up the fruit of stupidity I had found in the first time in a while.
“It’s a fruit that really sticks to you. You don’t know it?” I ask.
“Yes. This is the first time I’ve seen it,” she responds.
Now that I think about it, this might be the first time I’ve seen this fruit in this life. Perhaps it doesn’t grow around where we live.
In my last life, these fruits were often stuck all over my clothing after I ran around the mountains. My mother often got mad at me because they just wouldn’t come off. How nostalgic.
“Anyways, it just really sticks to you,” I say to Maria, as she said that this was her first time seeing them. I take one and stick it to my clothing.
“It’s true,” she says, wearing a cute expression of surprise, “What is it called?”
I’m about to answer her question with “The fruit of stupidity,” but then I rethink. ‘Fruit of stupidity’ can’t be its proper name… just what is its name actually?
“… Um, sorry. I don’t know its name.”
I thought it was a bit pathetic not knowing the name after starting conversation about it myself. But Maria responded normally.
“I see, I wonder what it’s called?”
The angelic Maria would never make fun of someone because of something like this.
But the same doesn’t go for the bear who’s been plastered all over Maria for the whole day. Currently, it’s hanging off of her shoulder.
Hey you, you don’t know what it’s called after starting to talk about it yourself? Then don’t start talking, you idiot.
It conveys that kind of message through its expression.
Our relationship is just getting worse as time passes, but it makes me mad that it’s getting easier and easier to understand what that bear is thinking for some reason.
You damn bear! I clench the fruit in my hand, then suddenly have a flash of inspiration.
Then, fruit of stupidity in my hand, an evil grin spreads across my face as I think:
Just you watch, you bear.
T/N:
The ‘fruit of stupidity’ (Baka no mi) Katarina is referring to is known as a cocklebur in English. Its proper name in Japanese is Onamomi.
Lady Bertia holds her hands closed in front of her chest. She wears a beautiful pure white dress and has decorated her crimson hair with pale yellow roses.
The necklace adorned with a fake blue jewel that I gifted to her rests shines on her chest along with an exquisite chain scattered with jewels that makes the necklace all the more vibrant.
We are currently alone in this waiting room.
Well, to be precise, two of her maids and Zeno are standing in a corner, but they’re doing their best to remain unseen, so it’s probably alright to say that we’re alone.
“That dress suits you well. Very beautiful, Lady Bertia.”
“Thank you very much. Your pure white knight uniform suits you well too, your Highness! So that’s formal attire! …I feel like I pale in comparison.”
After I praise her clothing, she gives me a rather strained smile despite her apparent happiness. For some reason, she became a little downhearted after comparing herself to me.
Even though she looks cute and well-dressed even if she doesn’t force a smile.
Speaking of which, when did I begin to be able to sincerely say that she looks ‘beautiful’ and ‘cute’ with no hesitation?
At the very least, I think that when we first met, I mainly only called her ‘cute’ out of obligation.
When we met again a year later, she had indeed changed enough to make me double-take, but I didn’t consider her as pretty as I do now.
Part of the reason is probably because her face is getting less round as she grows older… but I know that her flawless porcelain-white skin, her glossy and shiny crimson hair, and her thin body that’s showing signs of maturity are all thanks to her hard work.
“… You’ve become beautiful,” I murmur unconsciously, rephrasing my words a little from before.
Today, gazing at her again, I vaguely think that she really has changed a lot.
“W – what!? Ah I see – your Highness, do you need something from me!? But I can’t do anything for you right now! After this, I am going to make my memorable social debut at a party and carry out my ‘Plan to Corrupt Father – Take 2’, after all! Even if you’re the one asking, I can’t spare any energy for you at this crucial event!”
…Correction. Perhaps the sorry state of her inside self has not changed much.
Just as she says, today is the yearly party hosted by the royal family to celebrate young nobles who are making their social debut.
By attending this party, we finally can become a part of high society.
Social debuts typically happen from ages thirteen to twenty.
The reason why there’s such a large age range is that different families may take more time than others preparing, and there may be some issues related to the young noble in question’s schooling – enrolment times or studying abroad, for example.
Some among low-ranking nobility find it difficult to afford the necessary attire, so naturally their social debuts end up later due to the time needed to raise the money. And young nobles who study abroad either have their debuts before or after they leave, so they end up earlier or later.
In my case, as I’m royalty, fairly talented, and set to start middle school at Halm Academy starting from next year, it was desired that I make my debut the first spring after my thirteenth birthday.
That in itself was perfectly fine – you could even say that it was a natural turn of events.
However, the issue with this was Lady Bertia.
She is two years younger than me – still eleven.
As she is my fiancée, it has obviously become more common for her to be my partner at parties I attend. However, it’s too early for her social debut.
However, if I end up making my social debut, I will inevitably take part in parties and governmental affairs. I absolutely need a partner.
And so, I have only two options – have her make her debut with me, early as it is, so she can accompany me… or have a different woman accompany me.
This may not have been a problem if I had an older sister, but there are no single woman who have made their social debut in my family.
There are technically some if I go looking at my distant relatives… but since it’s possible for me to marry relatives who are not closely related, I would likely end up in a troublesome situation.
It would be even worse if I was accompanied by some Marquis’ daughter who I wasn’t even related to.
… It’s a pain just thinking about the kind of trouble that would bring.
If I were single, I could’ve easily gone through numerous partners to choose the one who would be my wife, but I have Lady Bertia. I can’t do something like that, nor do I want to.
In this case, I can only either ask Lady Bertia to make her social debut a little early and back her up if anything happens, or wait for her to turn thirteen to make my debut – to hold things off until I turned fifteen.
To be honest, I planned to choose the latter.
Debuting at fifteen isn’t particularly late – there aren’t any big problems with it.
It’s just that I would be restricted from participating in some governmental affairs until I was fifteen. It’s just that they want me to help them as soon as possible since I’m ‘talented’, but it’s not like governmental affairs will be put on hold just because I delay my debut.
I had ignored pleas saying ‘It would be nice if you debuted early…’ and thought to wait for her to be sure she wanted to make her debut before debuting with her.
The reason why I changed my mind is because Lady Bertia herself asked otherwise.
If she made her debut at eleven, I would need to back her up a little as her fiancée if she made mistakes, but the burden on her would be much greater.
As I would be able to do more things, the advantages would greatly outweigh the disadvantages.
If she was fine with it, I had no reason to refuse.
…Even if she were plotting some slightly amusing plans.
“Just watch, your Highness! All my plans to convince Father up until now have failed horribly, but I will make my comeback now!”
She punches her hand into the air enthusiastically. I can’t help but let out a snort.
It makes me recall everything she’s done since she declared that she would turn her father, Marquis Noches, to evil.
I feel a little bad for the marquis, but it was a pretty interesting story.
“Speaking of which, the other day, Marquis Noches let me read that document you made for him – The Basics of Villainy! From Zero to Villain. It was pretty well made.”
“What, no way!? Father showed it to you!? When did he…!? How can this be? I’m so embarrassed.”
She jumps in shock at my words then looks down, face flushed red.
She reminded me a lot of Zeno this one time… I once went to his room to kill time and ended up finding an interesting-looking book he had hidden. I didn’t mean anything bad by it. After flipping through it, I carelessly left it on the bed. Afterwards, Zeno came up to me, bright red, and complained heatedly that a maid had seen it when she cleaned his room.
Back then, I was young so I just felt like messing around to help kill time… I mean, I was just a bit careless, but now thinking back I feel a little bad.
But well, I also think that Zeno’s partly to blame for leaving it somewhere I could find it.
Anyone would find a hidden safe embedded in the floor beneath the bed.
And how cliché to put the key in a hollowed-out book in the bookcase.
It’s like he was asking for it to be found.
“Lately, Marquis Noches and I have often met for tea as friends. Sometimes, after he visits Father, he visits me as well and talks to me about many things. That’s when we sometimes talk about you. So he said that you gave it to him as a present and showed it to me.”
It would be more correct to say that I go to him for advice about Lady Bertia, but I’m not lying.
It’s just that I’m fudging the small details.
That was yes, a few weeks after Lady Bertia began her crusade to convince Marquis Noches to let himself be turned evil.
Out of nowhere, Marquis Noches sent me an invitation to tea.
As it was an invitation from my future father-in-law, and as I had no particular reason to refuse, I agreed readily.
And so, we had a tea party in an inner courtyard of the castle.
He looked disheartened. After a moment of silence, he opened his mouth to say…
“Prince Cecil, lately I haven’t been able to understand my young daughter’s feelings.”
… in a grave tone.
“What’s the matter?” I ask with a smile, acting normal even as I feel Zeno letting out a small snort behind me.
His story was basically ‘My beloved and stupid daughter, Lady Bertia, has lately for some reason been encouraging her father, me, to do evil deeds.’
I wanted to carelessly say that I already know about this since I’ve already heard about this from the person herself and since I’ve received reports from my ‘envoy’. But instead, I endured it.
“Yes, yes, I see, and so?” I encouraged him to continue.
Because see, given that I was the one to tell Lady Bertia to not talk about her previous life in front of others, I can’t exactly bring it up myself, and since my ‘envoy’ is performing their duties in secret, I can’t go blathering about them to Marquis Noches.
“Prince Cecil, I believe that a member of my family becoming a criminal would bring nothing but shame to the family. However, my daughter does not appear to think the same… she says to not murder, to not commit robberies that may physically injure others, and to not do anything worse than taking over or crushing other families… but she says to embezzle and commit fraud, to tyrannically abuse my authority, and to take initiative to do anything that wouldn’t merit a death sentence. The other day, she finally even began to prepare documents like this… oh, but the contents are rather good even if it’s wrong on a fundamental level. It’s well put together and very easy to understand. There’s even illustrations, but although it’s rather interesting as just something to read…” he says, holding out a book to me.
The Basics of Villainy! From Zero to Villain, the title of the book, was neatly written in a feminine hand.
“I may see it?” I confirm before taking it.
Flipping through it, I see front-and-centre the approximate income of your everyday prime minister after they used their monthly income and influence to embezzle money, along with even interviews with actual criminals. Although I have no idea where she obtained this information nor how trustworthy it is.
Additionally, it contained illustrated examples on how to commit a number of crimes, along with their benefits. A slightly strangely drawn girl that closely resembled Lady Bertia explained all this. It was a book with an extremely interesting concept.
“… Marquis Noches, I would like to carefully investigate this book. Would you mind if I borrowed it?”
“… Yes, of course. Please, feel free to keep it.”
I smile brightly. Although he looks rather tired, Marquis Noches still smiles brightly back.
Mm, if this is just a complete fabrication, I can simply enjoy it as interesting reading material. But if it seems like she got the information from actual informants… I’ll definitely need to watch the situation and deal with it if necessary.
That’s right, I borrowed it because I may need to deal with the situation. It’s most definitely not because I wanted to read it because I thought it seemed interesting.
I just want you to understand that.
“But, how to say it… what a waste of talent. With this kind of interesting concept, she could probably make a tourist guide for the capital or something and have it sell.”
“Yes, that is definitely one positive. While it’s an unusual drawing style, her drawings are charming and cute – it would surely be popular.”
“Shall I propose this idea to Father and commission her if there’s an opportunity?”
“I would be grateful. Lately, if I talk to his Majesty the King about my daughter’s positive, he refuses to listen to me, saying that I just think that because I’m such a doting father. Why is his Majesty so blind to her idiotic cuteness?”
“… I see. While I will avoid statements on that subject, if I want to make a proposal to Father, I would need Lady Bertia to make another book. I cannot show him this book, after all.”
“I will try to make my daughter make one when I see my chance. For now, the problem at hand is… the fact that my daughter is passionately trying to make me into a criminal, perhaps? Every day, morning to night, all she talks about is that. Until this situation is dealt with, I do not believe that she will consider anything else.”
“That’s… how should I say it… my sympathies.”
Since it’s Lady Bertia we’re talking about, I expected her to make good on her words. And from my envoy’s reports, I had thought that I understood the gist of the situation… but hearing it from the marquis himself makes me feel rather sorry for not stopping her.
As a simple observer, I can’t do anything but consider it amusin… I mean, worry for him in a detached manner, but the marquis himself probably can’t stand it.
And also I feel like Marquis Noches has actually somewhat aged.
Well then, what should I do?
If I could, I would prefer to let Lady Bertia do as she pleases for a bit longer, since that would be more amusin… I mean, that would allow me to obtain more useful information, but at this rate, Marquis Noches may get depressed and fall ill. That would trouble my father due to the marquis’ inability to fulfill his duties towards the administration of the kingdom.
… Oh, that’s it. I just need to have Marquis Noches build up a bit of an immunity towards Lady Bertia’s rampage.
If he could just simply enjo… calmly deal with Lady Bertia when she runs wild, he would probably deal with it himself somehow – he’s very talented, after all.
In that case…
“Marquis Noches, if Lady Bertia does anything particularly bad, I will stop her as her fiancé. I believe that it may be a good idea to not take her words and actions to heart. She’s going through puberty right now – she’s probably starting to like bad boys, like a lot of other girls her age.”
“But in that case, would she not normally want you, your Highness, to become bad, rather than her father?”
“She really loves her father, after all. She probably admires you more than myself. That’s why she must want to see her ideal man in you.”
“That can’t… no, never mind, that could be it.”
… I’m rather proud of myself for not inadvertently muttering ‘stupidly doting father’.
“Additionally, as you can see, I’m still young. I do not have the right appearance to pull off the bad boy look. She surely thought that your dandiness gave you a charm that best fit that ideal.”
“I see. Your Highness, you sometimes exude an… aura… sometimes, after all. My daughter likely thought that there was no need to encourage you to be evil.”
“… Marquis Noches?”
Didn’t you just casually say something incredibly rude?
And Zeno, I can tell that you’re furiously nodding your head with sparkling eyes even if you’re behind me, you know?
“Oh, I apologize. That was rude of me. I’ve been a bit tired lately, worrying too much about my daughter. I’ve often insulted people lately. In fact, earlier in front of his Majesty, I even murmured ‘Gush about your family somewhere else. You dimwit. Hurry up and finish things up.’ Ha ha ha…”
Looking a little brighter, Marquis Noches lets out a lighthearted laugh… but Marquis Noches – no, father and daughter both – just what do they think of us royalty?
I would like to thoroughly hear just what they think sometime.
“So then, it’s like this? I consider my daughter’s words and actions as a form of love, and if she goes to far, all I can do is punish her – watching over her otherwise? … I see. It makes me feel a little gloomy, but I will bear with it as you’ve promised to deal with it if she does something.”
Marquis Noches had finally brightened up a little, but his expression clouds over again at the thought of the future.
… Is it just my imagination, or is he trying to push dealing with all of Lady Bertia’s troublesome actions over to me?
Could you come asking for advice after you’ve done your best as her father?
Despite how I may look… no, just like I look, I’m still a twelve-year-old child, you know? I’m someone who hasn’t even made their social debut yet, you realize?
“If it’s too difficult for you, why don’t you ask your wife for help? She is both your child, after all, so she would gladly help you, no? And as they’re both women, perhaps she may better understand your daughter’s feelings or talk with her more smoothly.”
“That idea has promise. However, I thought it a little disgraceful as a man to complain or whine in front of women or children. I believe my wife may get exasperated with me…”
Like I’ve been saying, you do realize I’m still technically a child that hasn’t even made their social debut?
Are you alright with not only complaining in front of me, but going as far as asking me for help?
… For now, I feel like if I back down now, he’ll make me deal with all the annoying things. Shall I do my best to convince him to get his wife to work hard?
“What are you saying, Marquis Noches? Women spoil men who are normally calm and composed that start complaining in front of them. They feel it’s ‘special’ and thus find you endearing – didn’t you know? Apparently after I go to sleep, Father often goes to Mother’s room to get her to spoil him as he grouches. The next day, they’re even more annoyin… lovey-dovey than usual. According to Father, the secret to a happy marriage is to occasionally trigger your wife’s maternal instincts.”
“W – what did you say!? T – they do such things!? H – how disgraceful. But well, if my wife enjoys it, some embarrassment on my part is… and if I could have my lovely wife comfort me, I may cheer up a little… but still…”
After opening his eyes wide at my words, he glances back in forth, looking agitated.
He’s quite similar to Lady Bertia in this way. It’s amusing.
“Marquis Noches, comfort is important at times even for us men. Also, Father told me that spouses should help each other. I believe that it’s important for you to be able to relax and get help at home precisely because you play an important role that helps support the heart of the country.”
“Y – you think so as well, your Highness? I see. I see, that’s true! I think I should be brave and try to get my wife to spoil me,” says the marquis, his eyes sparkling as he nods in agreement.
“Why of course,” I say, nodding back with a smile.
I feel like his motivation has shifted a little from getting advice about Lady Bertia to getting spoiled by his wife, but well, it doesn’t really matter so long as it doesn’t adversely affect me, I guess?
And it’s probably good for my future parents-in-law to become closer.
“Very well then your Highness, I will now take my leave. Today, I will finish my work early no matter what and sneak into my wife’s room… ahem… I mean, as I need to ask my wife for some important advice, after al.”
Your true intentions are written on your face, Marquis Noches.
But well, someone young and pure like me doesn’t understand what he means in the slightest, after all.
… Let’s pretend that I don’t.
“That’s true. It’s about my precious fiancée, so please, take lots of time getting advice.”
“That’s true. It is important. I’ll spend the whole night asking for advice.”
“Right. Please do your best…”
My words are mainly intended for Lady Noches.
It’s been exactly one year since I watched Marquis Noches leave, as I thought such things on the inside.
In the end, he did come talk to me again a number of times after that to gush over his family or complain about Lady Bertia, but I myself lived a fairly peaceful life.
On a side note, Lady Bertia would come to the castle and complain to me about how “Father won’t turn evil!”
… Do they really understand my social status?
I’m not your family’s personal counsellor, you know?
Well, let’s put aside stories of the past for now – what matters now is Lady Bertia.
“That document was really well made. The illustrations were very lovely as well.”
“M – my! It is not something that deserves such high praise!” she says, flushing red. But from her expression, she doesn’t think the praise is all bad.
“It was so good that I’d like you to use your talent to make a tourist guide or something of the like for the capital… by the way, were the contents of that document true? Did you interview someone?”
I smile even as I ask Lady Bertia herself the question that bothers me the most. As there was nothing about where she got the information, I have to ask.
The articles are too well written to be mere delusions.
The content is interesting, but if she had really written this based on interviews, it’s a bit of a waste to leave it as just something to read.
If we know who to arrest, we ought to find evidence and arrest them.
“It’s about 50-50! There’s some parts I wrote based on my previous life’s memories, and some parts I interviewed people for based on those memories.”
… Ignoring that first half, that second half seems a little dangerous, doesn’t it?
“Oh, who did you interview?” I ask kindly, trying to avoid Lady Bertia raising her guard.
Supressing an involuntary twitch, I fix a smile onto my face.
“Oh, Viscount Rolly Conservatier! He visited Father before, and when he did, I recalled, ‘Oh yes, he was one of the ones to drag Father to a path of evil, and became my husband in one of the destruction routes.’”
To be honest, I had been worried that she would hesitate to reveal who she interviewed… but it seems my worries were for naught.
She had absolutely no ill intent or selfish motives when she interviewed him. That’s probably why she can say the criminal’s name with no hesitation… but I’m surprised Viscount Conservatier talked about his evil deeds to a woman with such a loose tongue – I mean, a woman so honest.
His actions are nothing but suicidal.
Oh, but she is still a child, so he might have figured that no one would take her seriously without evidence, based on her normal behaviour.
Marquis Noches probably did in fact not take her seriously, after all.
“There’s kind of a lot of things that are bothering me… but for now, could you tell me how you got close enough to the Viscount to get him to tell you about things like that?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that we’re close. But since there’s a route where I become his wife, I thought that he would find me attractive… so using my childish innocence, I praised and flattered him as I gazed at him with sparkling eyes. Before I realized it, he had placed me on his knee, given me sweets, and talked to me about so many things!”
“… So a honey trap, then.”
“W-What are you saying, your Highness!? I wouldn’t do something so unseemly!”
“Hey, Lady Bertia. Were you aware that Viscount Rolly Conservatier is a well-known lolicon – I mean, a pervert that looks at children with romantic interest?
“… What!?”
“Did he touch you?”
“Now that you mention it, he told me that I was like a doll and embraced me, massaged my feet, and to my chest…”
Lady Bertia’s face rapidly pales.
It seems as though she finally realized the dangerous situation she had been in.
“What happened afterwards?”
“He started to often send me letters. Lately, he’s mentioned that he has stories to tell me that he wants to keep secret from my parents, so he wants to meet in secret… no-o-o-o-o-oo!”
After speaking of her situation herself, Lady Bertia hunches down, her head in her hands, perhaps no longer being able to hold her fear back.
I sit next to her and softly rub her trembling back. Glancing at her maids, I see that they’re pasty white as well.
It seems as though they hadn’t thought that she had been in such a dangerous situation.
Viscount Rolly Conservatier is famous in darker circles, but most people know him as just a nice older man who loves children.
Well, I would’ve wanted them to realize something wrong from the sheer volume of the letters… but a number of those letters might’ve been handed to her through underground means.
“It’s alright. I’ll do something about it. I’m not so foolish to do nothing after someone does something to my fiancée.”
“Your Highness…”
Lady Bertia was trembling, as if she were some kind of small animal. When I gently embrace her from the back, she looks up with a tear-streaked face.
“So to protect you, could you tell me whether you’ve interacted with any other dangerous folk?”
“I have not. I didn’t have any opportunity to talk with Earl Commonolo or Baron Saugir, who incite Father to commit crimes in the game, so I planned to build connections with them after I made my social debut and have them meet with Father.”
… I’ll refrain from asking why she would have her father meet with bad people.
Well though, it’s fairly clear that it wasn’t because she wanted Marquis Noches to bring them back to the light or arrest them or something.
“Lady Bertia, could you refrain from doing dangerous things from now on?”
I can just enjoy watching her, correcting her course from time to time, so long as she’s doing something that isn’t dangerous. But it’s not good for her to end up in a dangerous situation like this time without me realizing.
Even I wouldn’t be able to enjoy it or think it amusing if something that couldn’t be undone happened.
I can enjoy watching her – I mean, watch over her – precisely because she uselessly struggles – I mean, does her very best – in a safe situation.
“Yes, your Highness. Of course! I as well would not want to end up in a scary situation like this one again! And so, from now on… I shall be careful when I interact with them!”
Cheeks streaked with tears, she clenches her fists with her trembling body.
… Why won’t she give that part up?
“No, it’s dangerous just to interact with them, you know? It makes me feel uneasy.”
“It will be fine! As soon as I build a connection between them and Father, I’ll run away!”
“That’s not the issue…”
“If I lose here, your bright future will be destroyed! I will do my best!”
“I’m telling you…”
“Now that’s decided…”
“No, can you not decide that?”
“Oh no! This isn’t good! The party is going to start soon, but my makeup and hair is a mess!”
“… Are you listening to me?”
“Your Highness, I shall get myself ready again and return! I will return in time, so I shall take my leave!”
“Ah, you aren’t listening to me at all… See you later.”
A wry smile on my face, I watch her dragged out of the room by her maids, gripping her pure white dress.
… Now then, what to do.
I really can’t just leave things alone.
“Your Highness, what shall you do?”
“Mm, right. Could you quietly grab Marquis Noches and bring over here as soon as possible?”
“Grab… Marquis Noches?”
“Also, I will be writing a letter to my father while you get him, so once you finish leading him here, please secretly deliver this letter to my father as soon as possible.”
“… Understood.”
“I’m repeating myself, but secretly and as soon as possible, understood? I would like to finish the preliminary arrangements before she comes back... it’ll definitely be troublesome if she becomes directly involved with the case.”
“I understand. Secretly and as soon as possible, correct?”
Zeno, the picture of a capable servant, bows once before leaving.
As soon as I finish watching him leave, I begin writing my letter to Father.
“If I do this well without exposing her to danger, it might be a good opportunity to root out this county’s evil.”
As I said ‘as soon as possible’, Marquis Noches will likely be here soon.
I need to finish my letter by then, so I leave out the standard words of greeting and go straight into the main topic.
I write of how I heard rumours of Earl Commonolo, Baron Saugir, and Viscount Conservatier’s ill deeds.
Of how it’s possible that the three of them may try to contact Marquis Noches.
I concisely describe how I’ve decided to ask Marquis Noches to use their methods against them and contact them himself to obtain evidence against them.
I did embellish the details a little… but I’m doing the same thing either way, so it shouldn’t really be a problem.
When I place my more-or-less finished letter in an envelope, I hear a knock on the door.
“Come in,” I say.
Immediately afterwards, Marquis Noches bursts into the room, looking panicked.
“Your Highness, what is the matter!?”
It looks as though requesting that he come as soon as possible made him worried.
“Zeno, deliver this to Father. Marquis Noches, I have something very important to talk to you about. Please, sit down over there.”
I hand the letter to Zeno then immediately sit down on the sofa across from the Marquis.
“The truth is…”
I tell Marquis Noches about everything I also described in my letter, then finally…
“Viscount Conservatier has apparently already made contact with your daughter, Lady Bertia. He has also apparently acted in an unseemly fashion towards her…”
“W-What did you say!?”
“Currently, he has only casually touched her body… but he’s rumoured to be someone who holds romantic feelings towards children, so there’s no doubt that he touched her in that way…”
“U-Unforgiveable!”
“Lady Bertia was the one to tell me this herself, but she was trembling and crying. So… if you could, don’t mention this in front of her. It’s probably painful for her to remember.”
“B-Bertia…”
“I’m thinking to deal with the situation ourselves, privately… preventing Lady Bertia from coming in contact with those who would bring her harm. Naturally, I’ve informed Father of this plan so there’s no misunderstandings… will you cooperate with me?”
Marquis Noches had been looking sorrowful as he thinks of Lady Bertia’s hurt feelings. But in an instant, his eyes begin burning with the flames of rage.
“Of course! I shall completely crush those maggots into little itsy bitsy pieces and chop it off!”
He clenches his fists. There’s naturally zero hesitation in his expression.
It would be more accurate to say that he’s ready to head off to war.
“I won’t ask what you’re going to chop off exactly… but I appreciate your cooperation. Well then, now that our conversation is over, you should leave before Lady Bertia returns.”
“Yes. It won’t do for my daughter to notice us and start worrying or hurting more.”
Nodding sharply at my words, Marquis Noches leaves the room, expression tight.
Preliminary arrangements have been completed for now.
Some of the three are likely attending today’s party, but they shouldn’t cause any problems now.
Marquis Noches will likely do his very best to crush them before they can, after all.
He is still this country’s prime minister.
While he forgets himself in private and lets his emotions get the better of him, he doesn’t do that in public. He’ll probably do it well.
… Probably.
“I might need to keep an eye out myself for a while too, perhaps?”
With my work done for now, I let out a loud sigh and lean back on the sofa.
I have a much bigger job to do after this – my social debut.
I’m feeling a little tired, so I’ll take a little break until Lady Bertia returns.
It seems as though my fiancée (toy) has been a bit too rambunctious lately.
I verify how I'll take my meals from now on with Lotus.
Afterwards, I somehow manage to finish breakfast then have tea or something. Now, I have nothing to do, to put it bluntly. Back home, there were so many things that needed to be done I didn't even have the time to say "nothing to do". But this is a prestigious Duke's house. There's more than enough people to help out with work. Rather, it would be utterly unthinkable for the "mistress" to do manual labour.
"Mistress?" Dahlia says.
Perhaps she saw me rolling around on the sofa by myself, groaning.
"Yes, what is it?"
"If it would please you, you could embroider?"
So I see. The mistresses of prestigious houses kill tim- I mean, elegantly spend their time doing activities like that... Since at any rate I'm a young celebrity now, I didn't even think of doing something like that.
But for me, needlework is...
"Embroidery, I see. I can embroider, but my speciality is darning and patching."
Oops, ended up talking like a peasant seamstress.
"..."
It can't be helped, back home there was obviously a lot more clothing that needed to be patched up than time to do something unproductive like embroidery. It's a bit embarrassing to admit this myself, but I'm pretty good with my hands and am good at anything from patchwork to re-attachment. Oh, Dahlia's looking at me in pity. Don't wipe away a tear with your handkerchief!
But it's not like I can't embroider, you know? Since it doesn't have any use, I didn't ever just embroider, but I often embroidered flowers and birds and such on my little sister's clothing.
Let's take back everything I just said.
"... Ahem. Well then, what would be good to embroider?" I smile again at Dahlia.
She pulls herself together too and suggests, "How about a pocket handkerchief for your husband to begin with?"
"My, what a lovely idea," I say flatly.
"It would have been lovelier if you hadn't said that in a monotone."
"O ho ho ho."
Please ignore my monotone.
Though I'm simply his wife for appearances, if he keeps something I made close to him, we'll look as if we're a lovey-dovey couple from the outside, after all! As expected from the head maid, nice idea.
With an embroidery set that Mimosa nimbly prepared for me, I begin embroidering a handkerchief to be given to my husband.
Carefully, carefully, carefully.
"I'm already done..."
I ended up finishing the handkerchief before even an hour had passed.
"Mistress, you're very clever with your hands!" praises Mimosa in astonishment.
But I can sew something as small as this in moments. I have enough skill to sew bigger things, like my little siblings' clothing or even my own clothing.
"You're really very skilled," Dahlia praises as well.
No, seriously, it was done quickly because it's small.
All I needed to do was carefully embroider Chinese lantern plants (the crest of the House of Physalis) and my husband's initials, CTF, around the edge of the handkerchief.
"But you really finished so quickly."
"That's because she's dexterous."
"Mm, should I make a more daring design next time? Perhaps cover the handkerchief with crests? Or maybe make the initials fancier?"
"..."
The two maids watch me with lukewarm gazes as my motivation to design rises ☆.
I sewed all sorts of things, changing up the design, but in the end, I could only kill time until the afternoon.
I'm kind of resentful that I'm so good with my hands!
--
I finish my lunch, which was made from my breakfast as I ordered. Now then, what should I do in the afternoon? They're going to make me make lace or something next, aren't they? As I fold my arms and cock my head to the side, Lotus comes to see me next.
"You could write thank you letters for your wedding gifts," he says, bringing me an inventory that listed all the different gifts we received.
It listed who brought what, and what they brought.
Oh, I'll need to look at these items too. It's a pain, but I skim through the inventory.
Hey now, who's the one who sent us a figurehead of a bear with a salmon in its mouth? Perhaps I'll have it decorate a detached building.
No, but, I need to thank someone for something they gave us. Person to person. And thank you letters like this are usually all due to the wife's efforts, so it's the wife's job.
"That's right. Things like this should be done quickly."
I accept writing utensils and a letter set (one that contains the House of Physalis' seal ☆) from Lotus.
You don't have any regrets before something happens.
You can't ignore your regrets after something happens.
So there had been a fair number of gifts sent to us. I didn't know. As expected from a Duke's house. Good quality stuff is good quality, no matter how rotten it may be, as they say. No wait, this house isn't rotten, I'm sorry.
We received gifts from almost every influential person in the country. It was pretty hard work verifying what each person sent and carefully crafting out a response that wouldn't be rude.
Though I'm good at manual labour since I'm used to it, I don't have any experience with this kind of desk work - no, work that requires mental power - so it tired me out a lot.
Aside from when I took a break to drink some tea and eat some sweets Mimosa prepared for me, I worked at my desk writing thank you letters with barely any rest.
“Well then, about Prince Alexis’ curse of bad luck and Percival’s curse of behaving eccentrically when he’s tired…”
“Shall we talk about your cursed drawing ability and the monsters you create as well, Lady Monette?”
“Cute kitty-cats!” Monette cries, “How rude!”
Percival snorts in a combative way. Alexis sighs in exasperation at the two of them… then from that slight movement, his chair breaks into pieces and he collapses to the floor.
It’s shortly past noon.
After sleeping soundly, Alexis and Percival helped themselves to her food for lunch. It’s shortly after Monette started gazing at her remaining food supplies in dissatisfaction.
Apparently statistically, the curse doesn’t seem to kick in as much in the afternoon, so she thought to talk about it now when they had a chance… and then this happens.
Monette can’t help but say, “Please sit on the floor.”
She holds out a cushion to Alexis.
“Lady Monette, there’s a limit to how rude you can be. Asking the prince to sit on the floor…”
“It’s fine, Percival. If I sit on a chair, it breaks, so I might as well just sit on the floor –“ Alexis’ voice cuts off as he makes to sit on the floor.
Needless to say, on trying to sit down, he fell into the basement for a second time, making a big racket. A loud, echoing crashing sound. Wood flakes fly up.
“Y–your Highness! Are you alright!?”
“Yeah, I’m fi– good morning, Robertson and your friend! I’m begging you, please don’t come this wa-!”
Alexis screams. At the sound, Percival hurriedly heads down to the basement.
Monette follows after Percival, all while urging the spiders, “Bite him, Robertson, Robertson’s fashionable friend!”
They go for a fresh start after the day’s first incident.
Monette can’t stand having any more holes in the floor, so she sets up a basic table in the wine cellar in the basement. For now, she’ll ignore Percival staring at the wine in interest, murmuring “This is…” and “Even wine from that period…”
“I shall give you a bottle for every chair you repair,” she says half-jokingly, but Percival just nods in response, looking rather serious.
Putting aside the wine, it’s time to talk about the curse again.
On placing an open book on the table, Alexis and Percival peer down at it, wondering what it contains. But they both just look confused immediately after glancing down.
After all, the book laid out on the table is not written in an alphabet they can read. No, they may not even be able to recognize the writing as letters. Even Alexis, who has learned several countries’ languages as a prince, is at a loss at the uneven lines of writing that look as though a worm might have wriggled them out.
“Monette, what country is this writing from?”
“This is witches’ script. Only witches can understand it and use it. It’s a special form of writing that only those from a witch’s bloodline can use.”
“You can read it?”
“It would be more accurate to say that I became able to read it,” Monette explains as she flips through the spellbook.
Witches’ script, only known in witches’ households. Normally, it would’ve been passed down from parent to child, but unfortunately, the House of Idira threw away their knowledge of the script long ago. If Monette showed the writing to any of her living relatives, they’d probably just end up saying, “What are these dirty lines?”
That’s the kind of spellbook it is. It had been stored away in the attic of their mansion.
When she moved to this old castle, she brought all the books like that she could find. Holing herself away in this empty castle, she learned how to read it one letter at a time, thus becoming able to use spells.
“Does this book have anything on curses?”
“There’s a few that might be relevant… nope, stop right there. You look like you’re thinking that it’s me after all. Prince Alexis too, please don’t lower your head,” Monette scolds, “Don’t treat me like the culprit.”
It would be an understatement to say that it makes Monette feel bad to be treated as the culprit after cooperating so much as well as providing meals and a place to sleep. After pointing this out to the two of them, their expressions change in an instant. They even bring the conversation back to the spellbook.
From the abrupt change in topic, Monette can’t help but say, “Don’t make me a participant in your farce,” and glare at them from in her helmet.
“If a witch’s spellbook has curses, then I was cursed by a witch after all. Just who did it…?”
“I’m not able to determine which witch exactly. While the House of Idira discarded their heritage as witches, there’s still many witch households remaining in the world. Either you did something to make one of those witches resent you, or someone requested one of them to curse you…” Monette goes silent.
Alexis is softly laughing as he listens to her talk. But his brow is furrowed, and his narrowed deep brown eyes are pained. Still, he’s forcing a smile onto his face.
“That’s true,” he responds, so thinly it almost sounds like a sigh. His voice is slightly hoarse – he looks indescribably pained.
Unable to bear it, Monette scratches her head. Her iron-covered finger makes a grinding noise against her helmet.
It looks like Percival’s expression is pained as well. He looks towards Alexis and almost says something… but shuts his mouth, looking irritated. He probably can’t think of anything to comfort Alexis.
Percival twists his expression, looking pained again at his cowardice. Monette lets out a small sigh in the midst of the heavy atmosphere.
Though, her sigh is absorbed by her thick helmet and isn’t heard by the other two.
But the fact of the matter is Alexis is cursed, and they do not know who the culprit is.
There’s a number of modern witch households in the world, and it’s almost impossible for a self-taught novice witch like Monette to investigate the spells they have.
Above all, the way Alexis’ bad luck shows itself bothers her.
He gets ill and becomes injured, but never dies or deals with lasting injuries or sicknesses. He gets into dangerous situations like being chased by wolves, but every time, he’s saved in the nick of time. He often breaks chairs or tables and such, but he only ever gets minor injuries.
It’s much too weak for a witch’s curse.
“Curses are the same as charms, they weaken if the one who cast it is far away or is sleeping. A talented witch may be cursing you from afar, or a weak witch may be cursing you close by, or perhaps a witch is suppressing the power of the curse to avoid suspicion, or it’s simply a toned-back curse…”
“You can’t investigate the curse with that cup last night like how you verified the curse was real?” asks Percival.
Monette shakes her head, indicating that it’s impossible. It must make a surreal sight to see a helmet turn from left to right with a grind, but Alexis and Percival don’t have the time to spare to notice that.
The two of them listen to Monette with strange expressions on their face, looking straight at her. Deep brown eyes and emerald eyes. Though they aren’t glaring at her, their gazes are piercing. Monette finds it hard to breathe – she flips through the spellbook to avert her gaze and additionally direct their gazes towards the table.
Her iron helmet hides her expression and her sighs… but she can’t wipe the bead of sweat that drips down her cheek. When she automatically lifts a hand to do so, a clank sounds out when the iron gauntlet and helmet meet.
How terribly inconvenient.
“While I cannot investigate the curse, I believe a witch in a neighboring country may be able to. Unlike myself in the House of Idira, she was born into a long, continuous lineage of witches. I shouldn’t be able to even hold a candle to her skill in magic and curses.”
Monette spreads out a map next to the spellbook, then taps an iron-covered finger at the approximate location of the witch.
It’s right on the border between the countries. It would probably take about half a month to get there and back with a carriage. You would have to leave the forest bordering the countries, then continue on into the valley… it would be tough at times, but it’s not impossible to traverse.
Learning that there was a lead unexpectedly close by, Alexis and Percival’s expressions very slightly soften.
“However,” Monette says in warning as she reads the spellbook, “Witches are fickle. No matter who you may be, no matter what you may want, if it doesn’t suit them, they will not cooperate with you. They may not even reveal themselves in front of you.”
“Is that the way it is? Even if it’s a royal command?”
“Though human, witches have apparently always lived on a different plane of existence than others. And so, even if you’re royalty, everything depends on their mood. Depending on how you treat them, they may even go hostile. Supposedly no matter the country, people have struggled with dealing with these moody witches.”
“I see. So even if we go to meet her, we won’t know if she’ll even meet us, let alone cooperate with us…”
For some reason, Alexis and Percival exchange glances.
Ignoring them, Monette flips through the spellbook.
“Though that doesn’t appear to be the case between witches,” she murmurs.
Lahna had apparently picked out the hotel while Sora reserved us rooms. They really are reliable.
We reserved two rooms, so we divided ourselves into two groups – me, Lahna, and Maria, then Sora and Jared.
“I apologize for being unable to reserve a room for one – there were not many empty rooms available,” Sora said, but personally I was a little happy because it felt like I was on a school trip like in my past life.
In this life, I’ve always had my own room after all. So, I got excited on entering the room.
“Would it be alright for me to take this bed?” I ask excitedly.
I jump on the bed once I get permission.
Normally, I wouldn’t really do something like that (since Anne would get mad at me), but the excitement of a school trip has gotten me pretty cheerful.
Maria looks surprised at my actions. Lahna smiles, saying “You look like you’re having fun.”
But when I happen to meet the eyes of the bear standing next to Lahna, it looks down at me condescendingly in contempt again.
Seriously, what a nasty bear.
After verifying the state of our rooms, we eat dinner in the dining hall.
I grow even more excited as together, we cheerfully eat dishes I’ve never seen before…
“Ah, this looks good. This does too. Oh, and this.”
… and end up eating way too much. Jared did warn me midway through that I would get a stomach-ache if I ate too much, but I was just so excited his warning went through one ear and out the other.
At times like this, if Keith were with me, he would look at me coldly and forcibly remove food from my grasp, saying “You’re eating too much, sis.”
… But Keith isn’t with me right now – and so, by the time I returned to my room, my stomach was very full and it was painful for me to even move.
Jared looked at me like he was thinking that things turned out the way he expected. The bear shot me a cold gaze that made me feel like it was calling me stupid.
… I’ll be more careful from now on.
Somehow avoiding throwing up, I return to my room. But even standing up was a struggle, so I lay down on my bed, waiting for my stomach to finish digesting.
In all honesty, I wanted to go talk about girl things with Lahna and Maria after this and had expected that would be tonight’s main event… but my stomach hurts so much there’s no way I can do that. I’m sad.
And as I was moaning on the bed, gripping my stomach, Lahna says “I have something to do, so I’ll be going,” and leaves.
Perhaps she went out to see night tourist attractions?
After moaning on the bed for a while, before I knew it, I fell asleep.
When I wake up, the room is dark, lit only by the light of a lamp.
It seems that Lahna is still out. Only Maria is sitting on her bed. She’s probably already wearing her nightwear – she’s changed into a comfortable one-piece dress-like piece of clothing. Her golden hair, illuminated by the lamp, seemed paler than usual, letting out a sexier feel that felt different than normal.
As I admire Maria despite myself, she notices my gaze or something and looks towards me.
“You’ve woken up? Is your stomach feeling fine now?” she asks, her expression rather saint-like.
I kind of feel embarrassed.
“I’m fine! I’m completely better!” I cry, jumping up from bed with a needless amount of energy.
“I’m glad,” Maria says, smiling happily.
As I gaze at Maria’s amazing smile, I think again that Maria really is an alluring woman.
I was shocked at her adorableness when I first saw her at the academy, but I feel like the closer we get, the more alluring Maria becomes.
At first, I thought that she was just what I expected from an otome game’s protagonist – she was born with amazing features… but that wasn’t the case.
Everything good about Maria is all stuff she obtained herself through her hard work, not things she had to begin with due to being the protagonist. When I realized this, I started to feel like Maria was even more amazing than before.
I love Maria, who’s so kind, considerate, and hard-working. If I were a guy, I would definitely want her to be my wife.
Whenever I think this, it’s truly a mystery to me that the game ended with a friendship ending.
How could Maria, splendid as she is, not have gotten together with anyone? I had even thought it wouldn’t be strange if she got a harem ending.
Either the men around me have no eye for women, or they’re hesitating because don’t know how to confess to her.
Even though if the latter were true, I would definitely give them advice if they came to me.
After all, even though I’ve had zero experience with romance in both this life and my last, I’ve gained a plethora of knowledge from manga and, otome games, along with the romance novels I’ve read in this world. So I’m sure that I’d be able to give great advice.
In both this life and my last, no one has come asking me for romantic advice. Even when I try to ask the girls myself when we’re talking about girly things, they just avoid the question and say, “I like you, Katarina-sama.”
I really have no experience with romance in real life.
But well, we’re staying somewhere new for once after all. Today for sure, I want to talk with Maria about romantic stuff. Alright, here I go!
“Um, Maria, do you – huh? Maria, what are you doing?”
When I look at Maria again after I resolve to start talking about romantic stuff, Maria looks to be doing something.
“Ah, yes, I’m just cleaning him a little,” says Maria, gesturing at the bear plopped on her knee. It looks as though she’s carefully wiping the bear with a cloth.
She looks rather cheerful, as if she’s having fun, and the bear looks rather content as well.
“He’s just so cute, isn’t he?” she says, petting the ugly thing caringly.
It’s true that while its face is rather ugly, it acts rather cute (to anyone other than me). Maria seems to have completely fallen for this bear just after one day.
As Maria pets the bear, it snuggles against her knee. It’s acting rather adorable.
It kind of makes me pretty angry. As I stare at the bear in an ill temper, our eyes meet.
The bear’s expression changes – and it’s clear that it means to say, “You’re jealous, aren’t you.”
It seriously makes me angry. And really, what’s been with this bear’s attitude from the first time we met!?
It acts all adorable around other people, but it acts completely differently just around me.
I glared at the bear to the best of my ability. But seeing my glare, Maria completely misunderstands.
“Ah, Katarina-sama, you want to touch him too, don’t you? Here you go,” she says, handing me the bear.
No, I don’t want it. I’m happy that Maria is so considerate, but I don’t think this bear is cute in the slightest.
But I can’t tell Maria, who holds out the bear so cheerfully, that I don’t want it. So I take the bear. The bear makes a disgusted expression when Maria probably can’t see it.
You damn bear, it’s not like I’m doing this because I want to either.
However, the bear seems to have read the atmosphere and obediently sits on my knee.
But when Maria leaves to go to the bathroom a little while later, the bear immediately jumps off of my knee and dusts off its bottom as if it had been sitting on something dirty.
Angry again at its attitude, I dust off where the bear had been sitting on my knee, not wanting to lose.
Then the bear looks at me condescendingly again, and this time, even shrugs in a way that makes it look like it’s sighing.
“W–what is with your attitude!?” I can’t help but cry.
The bear looks at me even more condescendingly.
It seems completely different from the person – or rather bear – that had been snuggling against Maria’s knee just a little while ago.
As I and this bear who won’t stop looking at me condescendingly continue glaring at each other (though I’m the only one glaring since the bear just continues to look at me condescendingly), Maria returns.
Then noticing the distance between the bear and I, she asks innocently, “Oh, Katarina-sama, you’ve already had enough of him?”
“Yes, I’ve had enough,” I say, giving the bear back to Maria.
“Well then, maybe tonight I’ll sleep with him,” she says, hugging the bear. It looks happy, rather like a spoiled child.
How quickly it changes gears. It had just been looking down on me moments ago, but I can’t see it as anything but a cute mascot now. What an excellent wolf in sheep’s clothing – despite being a bear.
In the end, the bear went under the sheets, still hugged by Maria.
And so, I decide to change into my sleepwear as well and crawl into bed.
“Ha ha.”
I hear Maria’s cute laughter a short while after I go to bed.
“What’s the matter, Maria?” I ask.
“I’m just kind of really happy,” she responds.
“Happy?”
Happy about what? About being about to sleep with the bear? Does Maria like the bear that much?
That bullying, two-faced jerk of a bear…
“Yes. Before entering the academy, I didn’t have any friends, so I’ve never slept with anyone like this other than relatives. So I just ended up getting really happy.”
Oh, so that’s what she meant. I let my animosity towards the bear get the better of me.
“… Oh, my apologies. Saying something so inconsiderate a time like this when Keith-sama is missing…” Maria says apologetically.
“I’ve been starting to think this is a bit fun too,” I confess. Maria snickers again.
I kind of feel quite happy that Maria feels the same as me.
“Hey, if we get the chance, let’s go out again together. Next time, we can invite Mary and Sophia and be with everyone,” I say.
“Yes,” Maria responds immediately. Then after a short while, she continues, “Katarina-sama, before meeting you at the academy, I would always get very lonely whenever I went to bed. But now, I always get very happy, and I always feel like I’m having fun.”
Maria seems like she’s always having fun and has a lot more friends now, but before she started school, she probably had a tough childhood. Considering that, I’m glad that she can be happy like this now. Yes, yes.
“So it’s thanks to you that I can be like this right now.”
I was shocked. What, why is it thanks to me!? Is Maria half-asleep perhaps? She must be well on her way to sleep after going under the covers!
“W-what are you saying, Maria, there’s no way that’s true! Maria, you’re the way you are today because you did your best – I haven’t done a thing!” I respond in a fluster.
I see Maria’s cheeks redden even in the dimly lit room. I can also see her eyes are wet.
Huh? Is she yawning? And what’s with her blushing?
“… Katarina-sama, please let me always be by your side,” she says, her words almost like a confession. She turns to me with her wet eyes too – I can’t help but blush as well.
“… Yes.”
My tone of voice kind of betrays me.
No, it’s just that Maria is just much too alluring.
If we keep on gazing at each other, talking, I get the feeling that I’ll seriously venture into a world I rather shouldn’t, so I lay back down and close my eyes.
The moment I close my eyes and lay down, perhaps because I spent the whole day running around excitedly, I immediately feel very tired. I fall deep asleep in moments.
In the end, I never did find out when Lahna came back.
On a side note, I only realized the next morning that I missed out on my chance to talk about romantic stuff.
i was wondering but why is your name kimamani translate instead of kimamani translations?
Short answer: Sleep deprivation
Long answer: When I first decided on a name, I decided on Kimamani Honyaku - or “Translating Carefree”. But I decided to keep the ‘Kimamani’ part of the name and translate the honyaku, so it would be Kimamani Translations. Only the problem was that when I created my group on NovelUpdates, it was right after one of my exams and I was rather sleep deprived - and so, without thinking, “Kimamani Honyaku” turned to “Kimamani Translate” in my head and that’s what I put down. I guess I could’ve probably changed it by reporting a problem, but I just ran with it.
i know japanese text often skips the pronouns and you talked about it sometimes but why not use "they/ their"? even if it would be a plot important person, and the gender would be revealed later, most people wont even notice the change.
I use they/them when the person talking or thinking doesn’t know themselves the gender of the person/are talking about a generic person, but I feel it’s strange for them to use gender-neutral pronouns when talking about a person they know is specifically male or female. Japanese lends itself to naturally avoiding indicators of gender without it even being intentional on the part of the speaker, but in English, using they/them for someone who doesn’t use those pronouns would be a conscious decision by the speaker to avoid revealing the gender of the person they’re talking/thinking about. This would be especially strange in thoughts, so I try to just phrase the sentences in a way that avoids pronouns.
hey wondering if you'd ever like to host your novels on another site as a dual host or single host for whatever reason, you can host at novelsandchill. I understand it takes and took a lot of time and effort and money in some cases to bring up and maintain your site and you might have a lot of love for it as well so I'm cool with dual hosting. We provide money at the end of the month depending on views and have a variety of methods to pay such as Paypal or even buying items on site. Not long ...
Thank you for your kind offer, however, I do not feel comfortable with making a profit off of fan translations. The good thing about Tumblr, my frustrations with their SEO and ugly HTML aside, is that it’s free, so I don’t have to worry about hosting.
Viola comes from a poor family, so she has no experience with luxury☆.
I arrive at the Duke mansion’s main dining room, led by Dahlia and Mimosa.
The room contained a table so very large that it made me want to ask just how many people would fit around it. There were a giant number of dishes pushed together on the table, enough to make me wonder, “This is breakfast for how many people? Huh? Was this actually a buffet?” Honestly though, it’s not possible to eat all this food for breakfast. No, seriously.
Lotus, who had been waiting here in advance, draws back a seat for me. I sit down on it.
An overwhelming display… or not. There’s no way this is just for one person.
“Um, Lotus? How many people is this for?” I ask Lotus, who stands attentively next to me, as I gaze intently at all the dishes.
“Naturally, it is for you alone, Mistress. As we did not yet know your preferences, we prepared a large variety of dishes, but are they not to your taste?” Lotus replies nonchalantly, as if it’s no big deal.
However.
Even just looking at the salads alone, there’s a plain salad made from uncooked vegetables, a potato salad, a Chinese-style salad, and a Nice-style salad. The soup seems to be a potage. For egg dishes, there’s bacon and eggs, ham and eggs, scrambled eggs, and rolled omelets. Not to mention boiled sausages and steamed chicken… as well as fruits and yogurt. There’s even all sorts of bread. Seriously, how many people is this for!?
I’m not proud of it, but back home all we ever had was bread and soup that had a few vegetables in it. And we never ate this much first thing in the morning. My stomach is sure to put up a fight at this sudden feast (though it’s still just breakfast ☆.)
“Does my husband eat meals like this as well?” I ask, my eyes still narrowed at the food.
“Yes. The Duke’s tastes change every day, after all.”
A shocking truth is revealed.
His tastes change every day!?
“My, is that so. But you’d definitely get leftovers, wouldn’t cha!?”
What extravagances you indulge in, my husband. Someone like him should go get cursed by that ghost who hates waste!
“Yes, well that’s…” Lotus trails off, despite having been so eloquent earlier.
“That is wasteful. You do not need to prepare all this for me as well, so from tomorrow onwards, all I would like is a single piece of bread, potage soup, and that Nice-style salad because it looks good,” I say frankly.
“You will not eat the rest?” asks Lotus, somewhat bewildered.
“Yes, as I cannot eat this much. Please save the leftovers for lunch or dinner,” I say, piling the plate in front of me with food from the dishes around me.
In an instant, I’ve finished preparing my meal! All I need now is milk tea and it’ll be perfect! Fresh juice is an extravagance. Extravagance is the enemy! (That’s a saying from back home ☆.)
I look at my plate with an expression of satisfaction.
“We cannot do that. We will properly make you both lunch and dinner,” Lotus says hurriedly, seeming flustered.
But really, it’s much too wasteful to throw away all this food. Even I’d get cursed by that ghost who hates waste. I don’t want to do this. I don’t like it.
“I’m fine with eating it cold, you know?”
“That is not the issue!”
“Then what is the issue?”
“The issue is that if the prestigious House of Physalis was discovered being stingy with their Duchess’ food by serving her cold meals, they would completely lose face!”
Lotus’ expression has completely changed.
“But that’s not the way it would be…”
“Yes it would!”
“Then, could you use these dishes for something else?”
“… I understand. I will have the servants re-cook them and eat them themselves.”
Lotus finally gave in at my persistence. But I do feel bad making the servants eat my leftovers, even if I didn’t touch them.
Wait, I might actually want to eat that re-cooked food…
“Then, could I have those re-cooked meals for lunch?”
“What?”
“As I honestly cannot eat this much, I am fine with bread, salad, and an egg dish for lunch. For dinner, I would be fine with steamed chicken and sausages as the main dish with salad, potage soup, and bread as sides. Oh, in small quantities, naturally.”
I tried making a menu based on the dishes in front of me. The sad truth is that it’s more luxurious than my meals back home despite being made from leftovers.
Still, Lotus is a bit flustered.
“M – Mistress…”
“I seriously don’t need this much fancy food. Hey, please?”
Though I’m average in looks, I can look pretty cute when I beg for things. And I end up naturally gazing up at Lotus since I’m sitting. It’s probably even better if I make my eyes a bit teary.
“… I understand.”
Lotus gives in completely again.
T/N:
The “ghost that hates waste” is a reference to an old Japanese commercial that ran in the 1980s, teaching people (kids, based on the contents of the commercial) not to waste food.
Viola’s speech is somewhat amusing. She sometimes goes from super duper formal to super duper casual in the same line. I try to demonstrate that by increasing the amount of slang and contractions, like “gonna” or “dontcha”.
Man, top quality nightwear really gave me a top quality sleep. The wide bed was great for sleeping on too, and the wrinkleless bright white sheets, fresh and clean, felt perfect on my skin. Mm, servants to a Duke’s house really do good work! I would most definitely want them to teach me their techniques.
While I manage to crawl out of bed, I realize something. I have no idea what I should do with regards to changing clothes. If I were home, I would first begin by dressing myself, but I can’t do that – this is a Duke’s house. Is it alright for me to go ahead and do things by myself? Wait a second, I don’t even know where the clothing is stored. I need to have someone explain to me today or it’ll be rather inconvenient for me. As I look around, still in my nightwear with my hands on my hips, I hear a knocking sound.
After three brisk knocks, I hear a man’s voice.
“Mistress, have you awoken?”
As he’s a man, is he a butler perhaps? Thinking that it was probably a bad idea for him to see me in my nightwear, in a fluster, I put on a gown on top of my nightwear before responding.
“Yes, I’m awake.”
“Excuse me,” he says as a trim middle-aged man who’s probably a butler and two women enter the room.
The women are the maids that served me yesterday. One is slightly older and one is younger - they both keep their hair neat and wear navy blue one-piece dresses as their livery.
The three stand in a neat row once they enter the room.
“Good morning, mistress!” they cry at once.
They bow down quickly. They’re bowing at a forty-five degree angle. How well trained!
Wait, that doesn’t matter right now. I almost bowed to them as well, but by thinking no, no, I’m this house’s mistress, I stopped myself.
“Good morning,” I simply greeted.
“I am Lotus, a butler. I have brought along those who will serve you from now on, Mistress. This is the head maid, Dahlia, and the head of your personal maids, Mimosa.”
The butler looks content on seeing me nod acceptingly. He introduces the older maid as Dahlia and the younger one as Mimosa.
But honestly it’s really extravagant for me to have two maids just for myself. Back home, since maids were considered luxury goods, everyone did everyone by themselves! Though we did help each other with putting on corsets. I can dress myself. And I can technically put on makeup… technically. The important thing is that you can make out that it’s me. That I don’t look like a monster.
But this is a Duke’s house. It’s normal to have a maid or two, or three. Nobles – aka celebrities – don’t do anything by themselves. This is common sense.
“Dahlia and Mimosa, I see. I’m counting on you,” I say, facing them and smiling.
“While there will be some things I will be unable to do, I will do my best.”
“Please do not hesitate to use me for anything.”
The two of them say, all smiles.
At first glance, Dahlia looked like a governess who would be harsh to a girl from the Alps. I was put on guard for a moment in case her personality was like that, but it seems that my fears were groundless. Mimosa seems to be a young, cute person just as she seems.
The butler who been quietly listening to our amicable self-introductions speaks.
“I am in charge of everything with regards to this mansion, so if there is anything that troubles you, please feel free to tell me,” he says, pressing his hand to his chest and bowing.
“I understand,” I say, nodding.
“Very well then, Mistress. As breakfast has been prepared, feel free to come to the dining room once you have gotten ready. Now then, I shall take my leave for now,” he says, bowing again before leaving the room.
“I need to change clothes first…” I say, but I’m cut off before I can finish my sentence.
“Yes, right over here. Please, pick any that you would like,” says Dahlia, smoothly opening a door different from the entranceway.
To be honest, I assumed that door led to another room, but it seems I was wrong. The door led to a closet – no, a dressing room. There was everything from underwear to shoes. The sight of the dresses, sorted by colour and shade to create a gradation, was overwhelming. But I don’t think I’ll wear this much – or rather, I don’t think I can wear this much? I’m fine with just frequently rotating through a few dresses.
“…”
Dahlia rubs my back as I stand there, my shock rendering me unable to move.
“If you would like, I may select an outfit that suits you, Mistress.”
“… Please do so.”
I felt dizzy at this lifestyle that was so completely different from what I was used to.
Dahlia selects a light blue dress. She and Mimosa then help me get ready.
“Oh yes, where does my husband take his meals?” I ask in front of the mirror.
“The Duke lives completely separately with his companion,” Dahlia says coldly in a single breath.
Wait one sec, Dahlia’s expression, which had been gentle all this time, immediately went expressionless. Her eyes look crazed. And it’s not just my imagination that I saw a blizzard is blowing behind me, is it. I feel something similar from Mimosa.
H – how scary! Wait, who the hell is his “companion”!?
“U-um, who is this ‘companion’? Did a friend or someone like that stay over last night?” I ask, despite my fear of the aura emanating from them.
“She is favoured by the Duke and lives in the detached building.”
So you won’t call her his lover or his girlfriend, huh!? Dahlia’s voice is low and scary. Mimosa, standing next to her, narrows her eyes. It feels like a blizzard is blowing in the room.
“You mean his girlfriend, right?”
“You may call her that.”
Co-o-o-old! Her response is so cold!
“And her name is…?”
“She calls herself Calendula, I believe?”
Why is that phrased as a question? Was she trying to make it sound like it didn’t matter?
“D – Dahlia? Mimosa?”
The two of them realized that I was frightened.
“M – my, I apologize profusely, Mistress!”
“You do not need to worry over it, Mistress, aha ha ha…”
The gentle atmosphere from before returns and in a fluster, they go back to getting me ready.
Hm? Could the servants dislike my husband and his girlfriend?
T/N:
Flowers, flowers, flowers... more characters and yet more flowers.
A lotus is a type of aquatic flower. A dahlia is a flower with a lot of petals. Mimosa is a genus of herbs and shrubs, though the author likely is referring to the kind of fluffy flowers that you can see in the Wikipedia image. Calendula is a genus of plants which includes marigolds.
“A governess who would be harsh to a girl from the Alps,” is likely a reference to Miss Rottenmeier from Heidi, Girl of the Alps, a “strict, no-nonsense governess”.
Chapter 3: A Signing Ceremony or Rather a Wedding Ceremony
After being engaged for one year after the shocking business deal, we married. Naturally, I kept the contract business a secret from my family. Hearing of the Duke’s utter heartlessness may make them faint, after all. I’m probably the only one who can bear it.
We were originally meant to hold the ceremony in six months’ time, but due to suspicious behaviour near the country’s south border, the military made its move. Naturally, the Duke accompanied them. And so, an entire year passed before things calmed down. I almost completely forgot about my engagement, the Duke’s face, and other such things.
Let’s go back to the beginning – the day of the wedding.
We were specially allowed to have our wedding in the temple in the castle. After all, it is an idol– I mean, ahem, a Duke’s wedding. Humph, I see, so rich and powerful people are treated differently!
I wore an incredibly gorgeous wedding dress that the Duke prepared for me, made of the highest quality silk, and stood next to the Duke who was handsome enough to put even a prince to shame. There must be something wrong with the world for me to be able to stand next to a dazzlingly handsome man like him. I understand this, so, young ladies, could you perhaps refrain from glaring at me? I feel like little burns are popping up all over my body. These jealousy beams are no joke.
I somehow avoided getting shot to death by the stares and lied through my teeth as I swore my vows to the priest. Finally, it’s time to sign the marriage certificate. Once we sign this certificate, our marriage is official – despite being a thin and loose piece of paper, it has a heavy meaning. Normally, after saying our vows in front of the priest and signing the certificate, the certificate is stored away in the castle’s temple by the priest.
On a side note, when remarrying, you need to trawl through storage to find your marriage certificate. It’s a huge pain and everyone hates it. Should I perhaps whisper to him later, “Oh, it’s probably a good idea for us to keep our certificate in an easy-to-reach place.”?
The Duke signs with no hesitation then passes the quill to me. He even gives me a sickly sweet smile – what a masterful actor. Please ignore my twitching smile. I sign as well with the quill he gave me.
With this, we’re now husband and wife in the eyes of the law.
But well, it feels more like a “super fancy treaty ratification/signing ceremony” than a “wedding ceremony” to me ☆.
The reception afterwards was very painful for me. To be blunt, what kind of punishment is this?
… wait, it’s a punishment I need to go through for my debt to be forgiven. Alright. Sorry. That’s right, I need to live with it.
My skin burns at the laser beam-like glares of young noble ladies who come relentless. I greet lots of people – coworkers from work, superiors, subordinates, friends from high society, whatever – with a fake smile on my face. I even ended up coming face to face with a member of royalty. Ugh, I feel like I’ve done enough socializing to last me a lifetime. I’m not proud of it, but I was basically a shut-in until now, just so you know!
Perhaps my internal screaming leaked out from inside of me, because the Duke comes up to me.
“Are you alright? Are you tired?” asks the Duke, sickly sweet smile on his face as he embraces me by the shoulders.
Yup, we’re completely in public.
Oh wait, I see, my duty has already begun! That was dangerous – I almost tripped again.
“No, I am fine,” I say, cheerfully returning his smile with my own fragile one. Mm, I think I get full marks.
“That’s good then,” he says, giving me a sparkling smile that surpasses mine. I think I’ve overdosed on sugar. Ergh, so sweet.
After that little skit, I couldn’t bring myself to eat the food and dessert, even though they looked delicious. How disappointing.
Nighttime – after the reception filled with those little skits was over.
I entered the Physalis mansion for the first time.
The Duke – no, my husband now – escorted me through the entranceway. There, the servants are all lined up to greet us. As I expected from someone rich, there’s many servants. Even though we could use even just a spare hand.
“Welcome home Master, Mistress!” they all cry.
They bow down with such great force that I almost feel like they should’ve made a swooshing sound. It frightened me since I’m a pauper ☆. And calling me “Mistress”! I’m so embarrassed I might freeze up.
But my husband splendidly ignores the servants.
“From now on, I’ll have you live here. I will show you to your room,” he says, then takes my hand to lead me to the staircase.
He brings me to an amazingly large room. There’s a sofa, desk, and a desk to put stuff on. And just how many people might be able to lay down on the impressive bed? At the very least, my entire family should be able to fit! It even has a canopy.
While the room had white as it primary colour, it was somewhat extravagant. Up until now, I’ve only ever seen a room like this in other people’s homes – I almost pinched my cheek, but I stopped myself just in time. Oh wait, this is someone else’s home!
My husband smiles wryly as I glance around, acting suspiciously.
“This is the bedroom meant for a married couple. You are free to use it as you please,” he says.
Ooh, for a married couple, I see. But since we’re a fake couple, he must mean that I can think of it as “my room” as he said that I can use it as I please. As I understand what he means, I turn to my husband and give him a short nod.
“I understand. Um, er, where will you live?”
I will do my best to not delve into things too deeply, but it’ll be problematic for me if I don’t know basic information.
“A detached room – there is another building on the outskirts of the garden, so I will be there.”
“With your girlfriend?”
“That’s correct.”
“I understand. I will do my best to avoid that area.”
“…”
For some reason, he sports a strange expression. Did I say anything strange?
“Is something the matter?”
“No. It’s simply that you’re so very indifferent about this…”
“Well, is that not how our contract is?”
“That is true. Well then, I will take my leave now.”
“Very well. Thank you for your hard work.”
“…”
His expression is strange again.
Once my husband leaves and I’m alone, I stretch out and let out a groan.
Today was really tiring. A wedding ceremony, then a reception. I didn’t get used to acting like a happy couple even by the end. By the end, I was definitely stiff. I hope no one noticed.
Then, two maids enter as if they swapped places with my husband and take care of my needs. I finally wear my nightwear and go straight to bed ☆.
Tomorrow I’ll start my life as a cosmetic wife at last. Well, I’ll think about all that tomorrow… zzzz.
A few days after we responded that we would accept the Duke House of Physalis’ marriage proposal, the good Duke himself came to our home. Along with a number of betrothal gifts.
Fancy and exquisite dresses, gorgeous jewels – items I’ve only ever seen from a distance. There were loads of various other gifts.
It’s a secret that everyone in my family didn’t just get agitated, but outright pulled back at the sight of the fancy goods brought into our home one after another.
“We might be able to pay off our debt just by selling off all of these…” I mumble idly.
“Hey! Viola! You can’t say that!”
My mother immediately denies my words, a black aura emanating from her despite her wide smile.
The Duke gallantly appears in front of this shell-shocked House of Euphorbia.
“A pleasure to meet you, Lady Viola. I am Duke Cercis Tinensis Physalis. I am very much pleased that you gave your assent to accept my offer of marriage,” he greets graciously, then smiles such a beautiful smile that you can’t help but blankly stare at it.
I on the other hand, am standing straight up, stunned at the Duke’s handsomeness. It’s the first time I’ve seen him in person.
I did hear in rumours that he was handsome, that he had good looks, but the real thing was even better than rumoured. Slender and tall with a tight body. His dark brown hair is cut short and refreshingly kept neat in a normal knight’s style. His similarly dark brown eyes are manly, his nose bridge straight and long, and his mouth is currently smiling softly. Every part of him was very much perfect. All the different parts of him create a perfect harmony even when they’re put together to make one handsome man.
With such a dazzling man in front of me, it would be more unreasonable to ask me to not become nervous.
“A -A pleasure to meet you, I am Viola.”
I stuttered.
But the Duke doesn’t comment on my ungraceful state and instead smiles cheerfully.
He takes my hand in an instant and turns to Father.
“You’re lovely, just as the rumours say. Earl Euphorbia, I wish to talk for a bit with Lady Viola, but would you mind?” he requests for a chat.
“Yes, yes, feel free, feel free. If you would like, we may prepare seats for you in the garden,” Father agrees, nodding his head like a bobble head figure.
“Thank you very much.”
Having gotten permission the Duke decides to head there immediately. I ended up going to the garden with him.
We enter the modest garden, the bright afternoon sun shining down. The moment the Duke and I become alone, he speaks.
“I would like a wife just on a superficial level, a cosmetic wife.”
With a smile, the first thing out of his mouth is this.
What? What did this guy just say?
“Cosmetic, you say?”
I doubted my hearing for a moment at the Duke’s words. Dontcha think that’s not the kinda thing you should say with a big smile?
… Ahem, I lost control of myself. I thought that I had heard wrong thanks to the loud chirping of the birds in the garden.
“Yes, cosmetic. To tell you the truth, I have a lover I’ve been dating for over six years. While I do love her, she’s regrettably a former wandering dancer. She’s not just any commoner - no one even knows where she came from. Since everyone around me opposes it, I cannot marry her.”
My uncertainty disappears in an instant. The Duke, his beautiful smile unfaltering, is cheerfully telling me an incredible story.
“I see…”
“But recently, the people around me have been whining about how I should marry, how I should make an heir.”
“I see.”
“But they still won’t allow me to marry her. And I have no intention to break up with her. And so, I will obtain a wife in nothing but name, and live with her as husband and wife on the surface.”
“… What?”
As it was such a crazy story, all I could bring myself to do was continuously give simple answers. I did change the intonations slightly however.
To summarize, the person I’m to marry (the Duke) already has a lover, and so I will be his mistress despite being his lawful wife. No wait, aren’t I less than a mistress? He’s already decided he won’t love me. Um, huh? Wait a second, I’ve started to get confused. You call a lover a mistress, right, normally. Then what would his lawful wife like me be? Ugh, I’ve started to get confused. Enough. Well, how should I say it… as expected, there’s no such thing as a free meal. It would be weird if there wasn’t a catch. I was strangely okay with the fact that there was.
Frighteningly, the Duke maintains his smile. As I stare at him, my thoughts in a disarray inside me, he continues.
“Oh, I do not care if you do as you please. It will be problematic for me if you’re too overt, but I do not mind if you have a lover. I promise that you will experience no inconveniences in regards to clothing, food, and accommodations.”
The Duke smiles brightly.
I almost tripped at those brutal words delivered with a smile! Hey, hey! There’s a demon here!
My mouth agape, I stare at him in astonishment.
… Let’s act a bit more noble, me. Let’s start by closing that stupidly open mouth.
A normal young noble lady would’ve probably been livid at him by now, but my situation is a bit complicated. After all, this engagement is related to my family’s debt problems.
If something isn’t done about our debt, Father, Mother, and my young sister and brother will struggle. If I got angry at these terms and tried to dissolve the engagement, my family will go straight back into poverty. Though well, we’re already as poor as we can be. To make things worse, high society will be sure to shun us. “Nobles in ruin who sullied a prestigious noble!”, they’d say… though that sounds a little cool ☆.
No, no, no, no, all I have to do here is endure it myself.
I mentioned this earlier as well, but I’ve luckily been rather unfamiliar with romance. For all eighteen years of my life, there’s been no one I’ve been interested in, and I’ve cared so little about my future that I even thought, “We’re poor so I might not mind being single for life helping out my family ☆.” Honestly, being able to live with zero troubles is rather great for me. I don’t have to worry about my life when I get old!
After thinking all this in my head in an instant, I speak.
“I understand. If you keep your promise about the debt, I do not care about anything.”
My response was pretty calm.
But well, I still don’t think I’ll take a lover or anything.
The Duke looks a little surprised, perhaps because I replied so indifferently without getting angry. But he immediately returns to his smile from before.
“I’m glad that you’re a perceptive person. I’m counting on you from now on.”
He holds out his right hand to me. Is this a handshake indicating the end of business negotiations? I take his hand in mine with no hesitation.
Here, the political marriage become marriage through contract between the House of Physalis and the House of Euphorbia was officially decided.
Author’s Note:
Thank you again today （*＾－＾*）
I am very happy that so many people read this!
With your encouragement, I’ll do my best!
T/N:
As most of the author’s notes are along the lines of this one, I won’t be translating any more unless they have new info.
Picking this up at someone’s request. Don’t know how long I’ll continue it though, as the story hasn’t grabbed me yet.
Chapter 1: A Business Negotiation under the Name of a Marriage Proposal
Ding dong, the temple’s bell – nicknamed as the bell of happiness – rings out.
This is Rosier, the capital city of the kingdom of Fleur.
Inside the castle, built on a small hill overlooking the capital, a wedding was being held in a temple dedicated to this country's religion – the most sacred place.
I am currently standing at the entrance to the temple, being stared at by everyone in attendance. I am, after all, the bride in today’s wedding.
The priest stands on the altar, while the handsome groom stands next to it. He wears the official uniform of the Kingdom of Fleur Knights. He’s really dazzling to a stupid extent. Is this what you’d call being blessed by the gods? And wait a second, is this person really going to become my husband? No matter how rose-coloured your glasses, I’m completely average. The groom is more beautiful than the bride – what a painful truth…
No, no, this is not the time to escape from reality. The wedding ceremony has already started!
The wedding ceremony where I, Viola Mandshurica Euphorbia, will be wed to Cercis Tinensis Physalis.
My father, Earl Euphorbia, slowly escorts me along the red carpet to Duke Physalis. The duke, sporting a soft smile, approaches us and extends a hand. He’s to take my hand from my father.
Everyone has their own purpose for this marriage.
Well, things will turn out the way they turn out. Resigning myself, I start taking things seriously. I hide everything underneath my mask – my smile – and take the Duke’s hand.
This marriage has never been anything but political in the first place. I am certain about this.
I, Viola Mandshurica Euphorbia, am a daughter of an Earl’s house that is prestigious but has no money. That’s right, we’re terribly poor. Partially because we were never a family that lusted for power, until now, we all lived modestly with ‘poor yet dignified’ as our motto. We had no luxuries or extravagances. We only made the bare minimum effort to participate in even high society. Still, my family of five – father, mother, me, my little brother, and my little sister – lived happily together.
But go back three years. Our lands faced the largest famine ever recorded, and in order to save the people, Father needed to go deeply into debt.
That debt is to blame for everything!
We had to live even more modesty than before – at poverty level, rather. No matter how hard we worked. I ended up just staring at my hands.
But everyone in the family still did their best! At times, I did the work of the maid, the gardener, and sometimes even the chef all by myself! Since I had always preferred working with the servants rather than living like a noble, it wasn’t tough for me at all.
That’s when the head of the House of Physalis sent me a marriage proposal.
That was exactly one year ago.
“I’m to marry Duke Cercis Physalis?”
I had suddenly been summoned to Father’s office only to be told something crazy.
My light blue eyes went so wide I worried that they would fall out of their sockets. I was just that shocked.
But I wasn’t the only one who was taken off guard.
“That’s right. He’s also perfectly aware of our current financial situation – he said that he will shoulder the debt, so in exchange, let him marry you,” says Father, looking bewildered.
It’s true that it’s sudden. This situation is akin to lightning coming down from a clear sky.
But a question rose up in my head.
“Have I ever met the Duke in person?”
I cock my head to the side and think, but I can’t recall any connections between us in the slightest.
“That’s right… you haven’t, right? We fell into poverty shortly after you made your social debut, so you haven’t attended many soirées either?”
Father cocks his head to the side as well.
“Right? And it’s not like I’ve ever been flirted with? And people don’t even gossip about me in high society, let alone spread rumours? So why? A Duke should have no shortage of marriage candidates to choose from.”
Father and I cross our arms in unison, as if we were mirror images of each other. “Hmm,” we say, trying to think up any ideas, but as expected we come up with nothing.
The Duke is very young, only twenty-four. Normally, he works as a knight in the castle. And not just any knight – an elite knight, the leader of a special force despite his youth. He’s handsome as well, with the knight uniform apparently suiting his tight, flexible body very well. Apparently young noble ladies swoon at the sight of him. Oh, but I’ve never met him myself so this is all hearsay – or rather, rumours.
Why would such an amazing thing like this Duke send a marriage proposal to an average noble girl from a poor and ruined noble house drowning in debt? (Just saying it myself makes me depressed.) I don’t understand at all.
“Well, we have no reason to decline on this side - rather, we need to happily accept it – but what do you think, Viola? I’ll decline if you don’t want to.”
My kind father respects my opinion, but it’s not like we can decline. There’s no way that a declining Earl’s house can reject an offer of marriage from a high class Duke’s house. And even if we turn the offer down, it’s not like anybody else is going to want to marry a dull girl drowning in debt. I had so few hopes I had even started thinking “I might not mind being single ☆.” If it saves my family, go on, hand me over as many times as you need!
“No, Father. If it’s for our house, I will happily accept,” I say, smiling brightly. I nod firmly.
Author’s Note:
Thank you for reading （＾＾）
I’ll be happy if you read through it quickly, just like usual ♪
This story is set in I guess the Middle Ages to the early modern period. It would be good if you thought of it as the country next to the main country in most stories （*＾－＾*）
I’m counting on all of you this time around again!
T/N:
This author really likes flowers! As you may know, fleur means flower and rosier means rosebush in French.
There’s a certain type of Asian violet known as viola mandshurica, or sumire in Japanese.
Euphorbia is the name for a genus of flowering plants.
Cercis chinensis is colloquially known as the Chinese redbud. Here the author writes the name as Tinensis rather than Chinensis, though.
Physalis is another genus of flowering plants, in the nightshade family.
