Chapter 23
He waved his hand gracefully, his smooth face gleaming.
His hands were so fine and delicate that the phrase “jade-like hands” came naturally to mind.
But what good were pretty hands—or a pretty face—if his personality was like that?
The boy gave me a few more gentle waves before leaving the room.
My head hurt.
The air in the room must have been contaminated by that short encounter.
I scrubbed the palm that had brushed against his arm against the blanket. Thankfully, there didn’t seem to be anything wrong.
If I’d stayed with him any longer, my hand might have rotted clean off.
That’s just what older brothers are like.
I should’ve realized it back when I first heard his name was something like “Taco-whatever.”
This was clearly my mistake.
Like Harriella and the Third Prince, Harriella’s brother also had a peculiar first name.
And that meant he wasn’t just some one-time side character.
Apparently, this rotten third-rate romance novel didn’t contain a single normal male character.
Ah, I’m so tired…
No matter how handsome they were, I didn’t want to meet any more male characters.
I missed Anna.
Pure, untainted Anna—the only clean place in this whole world…
Hugging my pillow tightly, I repeated Anna’s name over and over.
And right on cue, a neat, polite knock echoed at the door.
Anna! It’s Anna!
The only person who would knock so courteously was her.
“Come in!”
I greeted her happily—
But the person who opened the door was not who I expected.
A breathtakingly handsome man, the kind who could steal your soul at a glance, stepped into my room.
Under his ebony-black hair gleamed melancholy red eyes that drew me in.
Black hair and red eyes…
Suddenly, I remembered Harriella’s brother mentioning someone called Young Lord Carl-something.
Wait a minute—
It’s him, isn’t it?
That’s the male lead, right?
Why is the male lead showing up here?!
I couldn’t make sense of what was happening.
How had he ended up in my room? I had no idea.
The only thing I could tell was that this life cycle was going down in flames.
My mind went completely blank.
I stared at him rudely, like I was inspecting an exhibit, before finally speaking.
“…Who.”
“…Who?”
“…Who are you?”
The male lead’s eyebrow twitched. His face didn’t show much, but he was clearly baffled.
Are you offended? Believe me, I’m just as confused as you are—but I still need to confirm who you are, don’t I?
“…I am Kallian Caledonia. Not that you asked out of ignorance.”
His voice carried a subtle sting.
Well, fair enough. If I’d once proposed to someone and they pretended not to know me, I’d be stunned too.
Anyway, that confirmed it—the gorgeous man before me was indeed the male lead.
“Ah, I’m Harriella Lurupel.”
“I know.”
“…Right.”
And just like that, our conversation died within ten lines.
Truly befitting a male lead saddled with a childish setting about being “a man from the cold north who doesn’t know love.”
After all, a good male lead never speaks more than ten lines to any woman other than the heroine.
As a romance novel reader, I could understand him.
…But understanding didn’t make it any less frustrating.
Maybe the heroine would’ve found this silence romantic, but for me—a mere villainess—it was suffocating.
I felt like a dumpling steaming in a pot.
Awkwardly glancing around like a shy child, I realized I hadn’t even offered him a seat.
“Uh… please, sit.”
“Alright.”
He sat down instantly. Guess his legs were tired after all…
“I’m sorry for my poor hospitality. I’ll have a servant bring tea. What kind do you prefer?”
“That won’t be necessary.”
“O-okay…”
Usually, you’d at least pretend to drink the tea out of politeness, wouldn’t you?
Was his personality as sharp as his name?
“Um, forgive me, but Lord Carl—ah, Young Lord—what brings you to House Lurupel?”
“Do you not remember?”
“Remember what?”
“I rescued you from bandits in the mountains. No, that’s not quite right—you defeated them, not I.”
“Oh…”
So that wasn’t a dream?
I blinked in shock.
It wasn’t that I’d forgotten the attack. How could I forget something so intense?
But I hadn’t realized the entire thing was real.
I’d thought half of it must’ve been a dream—
because seriously, how could I, weak little me, defeat a whole bandit gang with a stick?
“Ah! Then the person who caught me when I fainted was…!”
I suddenly remembered someone lifting me up before I lost consciousness.
I hadn’t seen the face, but I clearly remembered the feeling—
the solid arm against my cheek and—
…No.
It wasn’t proper for an adult like me to be thinking that about a child.
Anna had said he was only three years older than Harriella.
Which meant… wait.
He’s eleven?
That face, that body—eleven?!
“Um, excuse me, but how old—uh, how many years have you lived?”
“Eleven.”
…Seriously? No secret royal birth twist or anything?
“It’s true.”
“I didn’t even say anything.”
“It’s written all over your face.”
“Ahaha…”
So it was true that he’d grown up rough in the harsh northern lands.
Judging from his appearance… well, let’s just say he looked mature.
No—only good things! Children are precious!
Anyway, unlike the tiny eight-year-old Third Prince, this eleven-year-old male lead was enormous.
He looked at least fourteen.
There was no such thing as “average” in this world’s character designs.
But whatever—people grow differently.
I decided to follow Anna’s example and keep an open mind.
Accepting things quickly made life in a ridiculous world easier.
“By the way, thank you for your help. You brought me safely back to the Rudbeckia Court, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
His age didn’t matter. What I really needed to know was—
“Um… did you tell my father, Count Lurupel, what happened?”
How had he cleaned up the mess from yesterday?
If he had any sense, he would’ve realized the Third Prince and I had snuck out secretly.
We’d worn shabby robes and had no guards with us.
“I suspected you’d slipped out without the Count’s permission.”
Thank goodness—at least he wasn’t blind like the Third Prince.
“However, I thought the Count should know, to fully root out the bandits.”
“…Excuse me?”
The problem was that he had no sense of flexibility!
“I—uh—so, what did you do? You didn’t tell him the truth, right?”
“I intended to—up until we reached the Rudbeckia Court.”
He intended to? So he didn’t actually say it?
Hope flared faintly in my chest.
I looked up at him; his crimson eyes were calm, unreadable.
“But then you started talking in your sleep.”
“I… what?”
“You said the secret must not be discovered. That if it was, lightning would strike you dead.”
“I—I said that?”
I’d lost my mind.
Here I was calling the Third Prince stupid—turns out I was the real idiot.
I gingerly touched my head. Thankfully, no lightning yet.
“…Is Count Lurupel… abusing you?”
“Pardon? No—what?”
“I’ve heard even in the north that the Count’s temper is as fierce as a thunderbolt.”
But where the sky falls, there’s always a hole to crawl through—
He’d completely misunderstood me!
“Did I… say anything else?”
“Just those two lines. Then you fell asleep as if dead.”
Thank goodness.
I sighed so openly in relief that his expression darkened with suspicion.
“So the Count is mistreating you…”
“No, he’s not!”
“Do not fear. Come with me to Caledonia. I will raise you into a fine knight.”
“That’s very kind, but—wait, what?”
“I said I will personally train you. I have never seen such potential. It’s as if I see my younger self in you. You will surely walk the path of a Sword Master.”
He was deciding my career path entirely on his own!
Why would I do that when I could just stay here and live a peaceful, wealthy life as a lazy rich girl?!
“…I don’t wanna.”
