FPML 11

Chapter 11 

Marien was chewing on a long jelly stick. It was chewier than regular jelly, so it had that satisfying bite against her molars. From beyond the bush where she was crouching came the shy voice of a young noble lady.

“If it’s not an inconvenience, may I speak with you for a moment? I don’t know if Your Grace remembers me, but I am…”

How many words would it take before that young lady got rejected? Marien slowed her chewing.

“It is an inconvenience.”

The voice that cut through the air was colder than a blizzard on the northern snowfields. The girl on the other side must have been completely flustered.

“P–pardon?”

“I would appreciate it if you didn’t disturb my rest.”

“Ah, I only…”

“I want to be alone.”

“Ah…”

There was the sharp sound of a book snapping shut. One second, two, three. The young lady mumbled an apology and hurriedly tried to leave. She was in such a rush that she nearly tripped over her own dress hem.

Marien watched the lady’s staggering retreat. She looked just like someone who had bumped into a ghost in the middle of the night.

There was only one reason she’d been that shaken. The wretched Cain Blackwood had snapped his book shut and glared at her like he was about to freeze her to death.

When a towering man of 188 centimeters fixed you with a murderous glare, who wouldn’t run?

And Cain Blackwood wasn’t just any man—he roamed battlefields like they were his home. He had literally cut down people before. The killing intent he gave off wasn’t just for show.

That made six young ladies now, hadn’t it? All of them had tried to talk to the northern duke, and all had fled.

‘Looks like it’s my turn now.’

Marien’s eyes lit up, but then her face twisted in disgust.

‘Ugh, am I starting to pick up that “군” ending from him too?!’

Anyway, that northern jerk was the absolute worst. Someone that unqualified to be a male lead needed to fall for her bold charms, only to be properly dumped by the heroine in the end.

Marien took a deep breath, then burst out of the bush. She charged straight toward the northern duke, who was lounging on a bench reading his book. Coming to a stop before him, she declared with a resolute expression:

“I like the raisins inside mocha bread!”

“……”

“Got it?”

She slammed a brown paper bag onto the tea table, glared at him with all her might, then sprinted off just as suddenly as she had appeared.

During the whole commotion, Cain Blackwood hadn’t once lifted his head from his book. But now, he glanced at the brown paper bag on the table, checked inside, and found a sweet-smelling mocha bun.

‘What on earth am I supposed to do with this?’

He had no intention of eating it, but he split it open anyway. If Marien had seen, she would have babbled about how the way he split the bread looked exactly like someone cracking a skull in two.

In any case, the mocha bread—stained here and there with butter—had raisins baked into it.

‘Poison?’

But no matter how much of a ditzy fool Marien Didi was, she wouldn’t hand over poisoned food so openly.

If you were going to kill someone, you’d sneak poison into their usual meals—not walk right up and say, “Here, eat this poison.” That was just common sense.

Then again, if that crazy rabbit had even a shred of common sense, Cain would never have gone so far as to remember her actual name.

Marien Didi.

That pink-haired lunatic had been crouching in the bush for a whole hour.

Cain refused to dignify it by calling it “staking out.” Muttering “Again?” or “What’s so great about that guy?” every time a new lady appeared was no stakeout. That was an insult to real surveillance.

Cain quietly looked in the direction Marien had disappeared. Did she not realize he’d noticed her? Or did she realize and just not care?

If it was the first, she was an idiot. If it was the second, she was reckless beyond belief. Cain figured it was probably both.

And he was right. The “raisin in mocha bread” declaration was only the beginning.

From then on, Marien would pop out of nowhere, shout in his face, and dash away again.

“I know you’re still a virgin!”

“……”

“You haven’t even had your first kiss yet!”

“……”

“Wanna know how I found out?”

“……”

“It’s a secret!”

One day, she even brought a “peace offering” in the form of soup. At first glance it looked like an ordinary cream soup, with diced potatoes and bacon floating inside.

Cain had a passing servant taste it first. “Smells good,” the man said, taking a spoonful—only to instantly writhe and jump around in agony. Whatever had been put in it, it was unbearably spicy.

Another day, an arrow came flying at his back.

Cain paused, wondering whether to catch it or just let it hit him. To be honest, it was so weakly shot he doubted it could even pierce him.

Thud.

In the end, it just bounced off his back and clattered to the ground. Tied to the shaft was a note.

Look to your right.

Cain lifted his head and turned. Beyond the iron bars, Marien was holding a child’s toy bow. The crazy rabbit silently mouthed words without making a sound.

I just hit your heart.

After this happened several times, Cain Blackwood couldn’t help but wonder.

Inside the imperial palace, where even the emperor himself didn’t dare treat him lightly, only this insane rabbit ignored every rule of propriety.

“…Why do you always talk informally to me?”

Now that he thought about it, she had spoken that way from the very beginning. Not just informally—she swore at him too. Once, hadn’t she called him something like a “dick stuck in a rusty door”?

“Looking all innocent, like you don’t even know what that means.”

Cain slowly swirled the blood-red wine in his glass.

“You cursed me to my face.”

Did he really have a reason to let Marien Didi live? He tilted his glass, tasting the wine.

The merciless Duke of Blackwood didn’t go easy on anyone just because they were a small woman. Acting like that, without caring for her own life, people would only be shocked if he didn’t kill her.

“Killing her in one blow would be boring. I’ll have to think of a way to slowly bleed her dry instead…”

The crazy rabbit’s motives could be uncovered later, right before her final breath.

Cain drained the rest of his wine. Below the balcony, in the darkness, something rustled. He turned his gaze toward the sound.

It was a rabbit.

Not the pink-haired lunatic—just an ordinary rabbit hopping out of the bushes. Cain ignored it and instead looked into the brush it had come from.

There, floating up in the moonlight, was a sketchbook. Bright red writing stood out against the white paper.

Never met a girl like me before, right?

The page flipped.

You’re already in love with me.

From behind the sketchbook, Marien poked her head out. Her pink eyes gleamed eerily in the moonlight as she grinned like a mad rabbit.

◇ ◆ ◇

That night, Marien wrapped her damp hair in a towel like a turban. She had just managed to finish her shower before the public bathhouse ran out of hot water—lucky.

“Couldn’t have gone smoother.”

She was humming nonsense songs she made up on the spot, a clear sign of her good mood.

In front of the changing room mirror, she pulled out the only cosmetic she owned—a jar of cream—and applied it to her face and body.

Clad in a baggy, sack-like nightgown and slippers, Marien planned to just dash straight to her room like this. She wouldn’t bother changing into proper clothes. In broad daylight, impossible. But now, in the dead of night, the only people she might run into were sleepy maids rubbing their sore shoulders.

“Putting on a blouse and skirt again just to take them off later is way too much trouble.”

And if she did run into someone, so what? She wasn’t a princess or anyone of noble standing—just a government worker living in a tiny palace room.

Getting caught running down the hall in a nightgown with a towel on her head wouldn’t cause a scandal. Scandals only happened to important people. At worst, she’d just look like a lazy person.

“All right, time to make a run for it.”

She was about to grab her laundry basket and clothes when she stopped.

“What’s this?”

On top of her clothes lay a small yellow paper bird, folded neatly out of origami. It hadn’t been there when she first set her clothes down before her bath.

“Is this for me?”

As far as gifts went, it was cute. But she had no idea who had left it.

If it were meant as a present, they could have just left it with a note on her door. Why sneak into the changing room and leave it on her clothes? And how did they even know she was here?

“This is the women’s changing room…”

So it had to have been a woman who gave it. Had to be. If a man had come in here just to leave an origami bird, that was downright creepy.

“Anyway, I just want to get back to my room.”

Marien dropped the paper bird back in the basket, pulled out only her clothes, and hurried to her room. As soon as she got inside, she threw herself onto her bed.

The luxurious mattress cushioned her body perfectly. The very first thing she’d bought with her advance salary was a new mattress and bedding.

On her second morning in the world of Alliance Marriage, after waking up sore all over as if she’d been beaten all night, she’d sworn she’d replace the bed before she got sick.

It had cost a lot more than she expected, but every time she threw herself into bed like this, she knew it had been worth it.

“Ugh, what a terrible day. Chasing that northern brute around nonstop—definitely cursed.”

Why did male leads always act like that, grabbing attention in the worst ways?

Even after shooting him with the arrow, even after the sketchbook stunt, Marien still shuddered every time she remembered what she’d done.

So humiliating! So childish! So painful!

“Quick, let’s look at something nice.”

She pulled a portrait from her drawer—postcard-sized, of the young chancellor. It didn’t quite capture Baileon’s radiant presence in person, but it was good enough to soothe her heart.

Propping her chin on her hand, Marien gazed at the portrait with a sweet sigh.

“I’ll make sure your wish comes true. Just trust me.”

That night, Baileon appeared in her dreams. He shyly asked if she’d be his practice partner for kissing. Marien, ever confident, took charge of the situation.

But just as their lips touched, Baileon suddenly pushed his tongue in.

Startled, Marien opened her eyes—and instead of the kind chancellor, the vicious northern brute was before her. From his mouth burst a writhing mass of five monstrous tentacles. Her first kiss was—guhhh!

“Aaagh!”

Marien screamed as she woke up.
It was the worst nightmare ever.