Chapter 14
When this all first began, I had been foolish enough to believe something.
That effort always brought results.
I had known misfortune, but I hadn’t known true malice.
I spent nights chasing through back alleys, tracking down unlicensed magicians, facing criminals one by one.
I wore out my shoes searching for witnesses, gathering statements.
Sometimes I even humbled myself, bowing my head in public, begging people for help.
I gave my entire life to proving my innocence.
And what did I gain?
Bottomless despair, and a life of resignation.
From that bitter failure, I learned only one thing.
That if I just kept repeating the old methods, I would never catch the culprit.
If I had spent years chasing without ever once stepping on their shadow, how could I possibly catch them now?
And yet, the clue was already in my hands.
They had gotten away once before, with Rohwinas.
They must be confident they could escape again, so they made their move.
But unlike then, this time, the situation wasn’t entirely in the culprit’s favor.
Because I had realized it.
And because the ones who drank the potion now also knew what had happened to them.
No one would act exactly as the culprit had hoped.
Of course, letting them know that truth would be foolish.
Yes, I wanted them to feel how humiliating, how infuriating, how disgusting it was to be tricked.
But more than that—my chance would come when the culprit underestimated me.
When they thought I was harmless and let their guard down.
By now, the culprit was probably…
Calling them “the culprit” felt too generous.
They deserved something closer to an insult.
But I didn’t know their age, or gender, or even their social rank.
After a moment of thought, I decided. From now on, I would call this wretch the Pervert.
Because what else could you call someone with such twisted tastes?
Someone who tied together two innocent people, sat back waiting for it all to fall apart, then calmly repeated the same game with others, all while hiding their face.
If that wasn’t a pervert, then what was?
A super pervert, at least.
By now, the Pervert must be watching the situation carefully.
Waiting to see if the men who drank the potion would act as expected.
Waiting to see if I would make a pitiful, humiliating show of myself.
I felt a vein throb in my temple.
What did this Pervert think I was?
Humans have something called the ability to learn.
Yes, I had shut myself in, miserable, for years.
But that didn’t mean I would just throw myself at the first man who looked at me kindly.
Did they really think I would march into the trap again on my own?
The love potion was an ancient magic, controversial even among scholars.
Last time, it had destroyed me socially and left me drowning in debt.
This time, it might cost me my head.
Of course, that would only happen if the truth were revealed to the world. But still…
“…Wait.”
A chill ran down my spine.
Thinking back, the timing of Rohwinas’s exposure was far too perfect.
No way.
Could it be?
Could that also have been the Pervert’s doing?
Just when news of my engagement to Rohwinas had spread, just when our marriage seemed certain…
Was it the Pervert who threw the bomb?
Because they couldn’t stand the idea that I might marry safely, rise in status, and actually live happily?
Of course. Why would anyone secretly feed a potion if they never planned to expose it?
The thought made my stomach twist.
But strangely, I could already see their next move.
Wouldn’t it be the same this time?
They would wait until I smiled in relief, thinking I was finally safe and happy—
then pour cold water over everything.
Until that moment, they would never reveal the truth themselves.
And that meant I had time.
Time to dig quietly, to search for their identity from the shadows.
My frantic, restless mind calmed a little.
The Pervert…
Why did they hate me this much?
It was hard to understand how someone could hate another person so deeply.
Even in my anger, a trace of sadness brushed against my chest.
But no. A Pervert was a Pervert.
I decided not to waste more thought on it.
For now, my job was simple—
To look like someone who might fall for kind words,
but never actually fall.
To keep that act going for as long as possible.
With the three men.
Why had the Pervert chosen those three?
Because they were a pervert?
The moment I named them that, every answer seemed to circle back the same way.
Or maybe they had chosen extra men, just in case I didn’t fall for the first?
“….”
In the end, “because they’re a pervert” was the only explanation that made sense.
When I stepped inside the tent, a sharp tsk of the tongue greeted me.
I hadn’t even spoken yet.
But the old man must have read the truth from the way I walked in.
As soon as I turned, he asked,
“Don’t tell me… it was all three?”
I hadn’t thought I was that easy to read.
Rubbing my cheek, I shrugged.
“…Well.”
“I’ll need a clear answer, Baroness.”
He already knew, but he wanted to hear it from me.
Annoying.
His eyes gleamed, waiting eagerly.
I didn’t know what was so entertaining about gossip like this.
“Yes. All three of them drank the potion.”
While I pushed aside a pile of books and sank onto the sofa, his gaze never left me.
“Your face has grown weary in only a few days.”
“Wouldn’t it be stranger if I looked cheerful?”
The old man gave a short laugh of agreement.
“The truth is always like that. Truth spares no one. Sometimes it’s mercilessly cruel.”
His eyes had a strange, chilling glint as he said it—
odd for someone who had spent his life chasing secrets.
I answered lightly,
“Like the kind of truth you’d be happier never knowing?”
“If you were in that position, Baroness, what would you choose?”
I shook my head firmly.
“There’s no choice. What good is happiness if it isn’t truly mine? I’d rather know the truth, even if it makes me miserable.”
The old man seemed unsurprised. He adjusted his glasses.
“And of course, you told them the truth as well.”
“….”
Naturally.
I had never once hesitated over that decision.
Why wouldn’t I tell them?
Should they waste their lives, clinging to feelings born from a potion?
Only to realize too late and regret everything?
No. Not again.
“Hiding it would be no different from lying to them.”
“I don’t mean to question your choice, Baroness. But… tell me. Are you truly so cold that you’ll hold to it until the very end?”
His piercing blue eyes studied me, sharp and searching.
And suddenly, I felt a strange recognition.
This old man—Margaret—
had once been like me.
“…So, what will you do next?”
I thought of the Pervert.
But I didn’t say the word aloud.
Instead, I replied carelessly,
“For now, I’ll start gathering ingredients for the antidote.”
“You feel responsible for them, then.”
Logically, I had no obligation.
I wasn’t the one who fed them the potion.
But he was right. I couldn’t simply ignore it.
After all, the Pervert’s true target wasn’t them.
It was me.
“And the culprit? Won’t you search for them?”
“I’ll try. But I won’t expect much.”
He gave me a thoughtful look, then made an offer.
“In that case, how about I provide you with information on the antidote ingredients?”
“And in exchange?”
“All I ask is that, when you visit me, you share stories with me.”
“…Stories?”
“Yes. Nothing important. Even trivial talk, like now, will do.”
An offer without clear terms was dangerous.
Sensing my hesitation, Margaret added,
“You may refuse to answer any question you dislike, and I will not press further.”
That was fair enough.
I agreed without much hesitation.
Some antidote ingredients were extremely rare, not seen for decades.
Even great noble houses couldn’t guarantee access.
I could use brokers, but still…
“Then I look forward to working with you, Baroness.”
“And I with you.”
We shook hands.
But I didn’t let go right away.
“Then today, I’d like some information. Has the Heart of Merinis appeared on the market recently?”
Margaret lifted one eyebrow, lips twitching in mild amusement.
He began to answer—
“I—”
But a shadow passed outside the tent.
A man’s voice interrupted us.
“Sir Margaret. The third young master requests your presence.”
I looked at the old man sharply.
Margaret—that was his name.
The third young master?
Surely not… the third son of the ducal house?
Margaret looked only mildly displeased.
“I am with a guest. Can it wait?”
The man hesitated.
“Count Canesion has come in person.”
My posture straightened at once.
Rohwinas.
As my face twisted, Margaret watched with great interest.
The man continued.
“If it isn’t urgent, perhaps the guest could be sent away?”
Margaret looked at me.
I nodded stiffly.
“Tell him to come in.”
My body nearly sprang to its feet.
But Margaret asked,
“Running away, Baroness?”
“….”
“Is there something you’re guilty about?”
I froze and sat back down immediately.
And regretted it at once.
His eyes gleamed with amusement.
Of course he wouldn’t miss the chance to witness my reunion with Rohwinas.
Too late, I realized.
But I couldn’t run now.
My pride wouldn’t allow it.
The footsteps grew closer, loud and steady.
One man’s presence filled the tent.
Damn it.
I shut my eyes tight.
