Chapter 23
Once Odette made up her mind, not even mobilizing every royal investigator and guard in the empire could find the whereabouts of Marienne Didi.
“Back from the dead again, huh.”
At Marienne’s mutter, Vaileon replied,
“I’m starting to worry that’s becoming your special skill, Aide Didi.”
“Huh? That’s not my special skill!”
Strictly speaking, it was Vaileon who kept saving her every time. Marienne’s brows drooped lower and lower.
“Ugh…”
She wasn’t trying to act spoiled—it was just that, without realizing it, she had once again brushed past death. The terror Odette gave off was different from the beastly aura of that northern brute.
A delayed wave of relief made her whimper involuntarily.
“What would I do without you, Sir Viers?”
I need to repay this debt to you somehow before I go.
“Thank you for not throwing me out.”
“Don’t say that.”
Vaileon put on a deliberately stern face.
“I told you—the one who should be grateful is me.”
He waited until Marienne calmed down before advising her.
Now Odette knew about Marienne’s plan to cut the duke’s hair.
Odette had given some vague permission to “not interfere,” but that didn’t mean she approved of the duke being turned bald.
“His Highness and the Duke are very alike. Pride is one thing they definitely share.”
Vaileon crouched a bit to meet her gaze.
“So if you must strip the Duke of his hair, at least don’t do it the day before an event they’ll both be attending.”
“Oh.”
“The Duke is one thing—but His Highness won’t give you another chance. Especially since he personally allowed you to touch the subject of hair, he’ll be even more furious if anything goes wrong.”
The first warning: a yellow paper bird.
The second: pig’s blood and entrails.
The third and final “red card” had just barely been avoided thanks to Vaileon.
Marienne had no chances left now.
Don’t back Odette into a corner where she can’t postpone the event. Protect your own neck.
Marienne engraved Vaileon’s advice deep in her heart.
“But what kind of event would both of them attend?”
Maybe a royal ball soon? She’d better find out the date in advance.
Vaileon replied quietly,
“For instance… their engagement ceremony.”
Then, after a small pause,
“It’s this coming Friday.”
◇ ◆ ◇
‘I knew it would feel awful… but this is way worse than I imagined.’
Today was the engagement day of the Fourth Princess and Duke Blackwood.
No matter how hard she tried, Marienne couldn’t stop this day from coming.
Did other transmigrators in novels feel this way too?
She grimaced like someone who swallowed cod liver oil but couldn’t rinse her mouth.
If cod liver oil had a flavor, it would taste like Kain Blackwood.
‘In short—disgusting.’
Because of the “truth or lie” game after last night’s dinner, Marienne had now learned a taste she could’ve lived her whole life without knowing.
To put it briefly: the Viers family were geniuses at shameless acting; Marienne Didi was not.
The moment she saw the word “culprit” on the card she drew, her facial muscles stopped obeying her.
Vaileon tried to redirect suspicion elsewhere, but his plan failed.
In the end, Marienne had to open the little jar at the center of the table and swallow a spoonful of cod liver oil.
“Poor aide. How pitiful,” said the youngest of the Viers family, Daisy, who’d been grilling her the most. For once, even she looked sympathetic.
The Countess explained that the vile oil was actually a wonderful tonic that strengthened the heart.
Of course. Any medicine that tastes that terrible must be good for you.
And just when she was thinking that even that revolting fish oil was more useful than that northern brute—
“Aide Didi?”
The second daughter of House Viers, Cloise, entered the guest room.
“Have you chosen your dress yet?”
“I can’t decide between these two.”
“Shall I help?”
Cloise approached confidently, only to freeze mid-step.
“Um… Aide Didi,” she began hesitantly. “We’re attending an engagement, remember? There’ll be a ball afterward. So why are you choosing between two identical black dresses…?”
“They’re not identical! See? The right one’s sleeves are all lace, and the left one has vertical frills from the chest down.”
“They’re both black. That’s funeral wear.”
I know. I know. Today is the funeral of my heart. Marienne answered silently.
‘But if I really wear this, Odette will murder me.’
After all, the original heroine, who sent her first warning with a dainty paper bird, had immediately followed up with a bucket of pig’s blood and entrails when that didn’t work.
If it weren’t for Vaileon, pathetic little Marienne Didi would’ve been wiped out long ago—upper half buried in some nameless field, lower half drifting at sea.
People even whispered her head was never found.
‘Gotta stay sharp.’
In other romance novels, when the heroine’s spotlight was threatened, she might “go dark” and become the villainess. But Odette? No.
Odette was already the finished product.
She didn’t need to “go dark” to eliminate obstacles—she just did.
“Haha, I was joking. I’ll wear… this one.”
Marienne took out a glossy light-gray gown from the closet.
It had puffed sleeves embroidered in a checkered pattern, each crossing adorned with pearls.
Despite the modest color, the fine pleats and big ribbon at the back made it look quite luxurious—though Cloise didn’t seem to think so.
“For your age, it’s a bit plain…”
Excuse me, noble-born lady, there are dozens of pearls just on the shoulders!
“Oh! Maybe if you paired it with diamonds!”
Cloise ran off to her room and returned with a platinum tiara and necklace studded with diamonds—each gem so huge Marienne didn’t even dare ask the carat weight.
“Now that’s proper ball attire!” Cloise said brightly.
Marienne immediately knelt in mock despair. “Please, I beg you, don’t make me wear that punishment of diamonds! I’ll lose them, I swear I will—completely, definitely, absolutely! And I can’t afford to replace them!”
Cloise panicked and tried to lift her up, and just like with Vaileon, the trick worked perfectly on his little sister too.
Thus Marienne managed to leave the Viers estate without a single jewel on her.
So relieved was she that she didn’t notice Cloise jotting something down in her notebook with a faintly irritated look.
◇ ◆ ◇
As the chancellor’s aide, Marienne was allowed to attend the ceremony—but since she wasn’t a noble, she was assigned to the farthest side row.
‘Nice. Easy access to the bathroom.’
And even better, she couldn’t see that annoying northern brute’s face clearly. Quite satisfying.
But Cloise looked regretful.
“If you became part of House Viers, you could sit in the front.”
That’s kind of you, but I doubt the Countess plans to adopt a fully grown woman.
Marienne smiled brightly and sent Cloise off to her own front-row seat.
The engagement proceeded in solemn grandeur—so much that Marienne wasn’t sure if it was an engagement or a coronation.
Odette and Kain both wore cold, expressionless faces, never smiling once, which only added to the gravity of the scene.
“Well, at least they look good together.”
“They have a similar aura.”
“Her Highness the Fourth Princess looks radiant today.”
“I thought Duke Blackwood would never marry in his life.”
“I know! And to think it’s the Fourth Princess—honestly, I couldn’t believe it at first.”
Even in such a sacred atmosphere, gossipers would gossip. Marienne half-listened, waiting for her chance to sneak out.
When one noblewoman covered her mouth with a handkerchief and quickly made for the exit, Marienne seized the moment.
‘Perfect—follow her lead!’
Pretending to assist the lady, Marienne slipped out of the hall.
Had she gone alone, the guards would’ve stopped her—Who are you? Where are you going?—but recognizing the pregnant noblewoman, they opened the door without question.
Must be from a high-ranking family. The gemstone on her brooch practically screamed wealth.
Ah, the struggles of being a common-born civil servant.
After escorting the lady to the restroom, Marienne naturally slipped away.
Now she had to move fast.
Today was D-Day.
While everyone’s attention was fixed on the engagement, she planned to sneak into the northern brute’s bathroom and replace his shampoo with depilatory cream.
Yes—she was reattempting the plan that had failed last time.
As she crept down the hallway, avoiding watchful eyes, an unexpected thought struck her.
‘Odette’s engagement dress was different from the original story!’
In the novel, Odette had worn a crimson silk gown matching her eye color.
But what Marienne saw today was a purple gown embroidered with silver thread.
She couldn’t see Odette’s face clearly from her seat, but she had definitely noticed the long train of that dress trailing across the floor.
‘That means the story’s changed…!’
Her heart fluttered with anticipation.
She already had the heavy, ornate key to the luxurious guest chambers—courtesy of Vaileon.
Peeking past the heavy drapes, she checked the corridor. No one was in front of Kain’s room.
Wait for me, Mr. Bald-Egg. I’m coming.
But just as she boldly took her first step, someone spoke behind her in a low whisper.
“Sister… are you lost?”
He was so close she could feel his breath.
How had she not sensed him approach? Marienne spun around, startled.
The first thing she saw was a silver rosary hanging around his neck.
The man had reddish-brown hair like it had been soaked in blood, and he wore a perfectly fitted priest’s robe.
A crushed-rose scent drifted through the air. With every slow blink, his long auburn lashes caught the light.
Behind him, it almost looked as though violet smoke was rising. Marienne was momentarily dazed.
‘Who is this guy—and why does he come with special effects?’
The moment he spoke again, she realized who he was.
“I only hope I can be of help to my lovely sister.”
A decadent air, like the serpent tempting Eve to eat the forbidden fruit.
Leslie Anais—the priest.
Marienne’s opinion of him had never changed.
A complete cultist.
