Chapter 9
The day of the party.
Ulysses sat nervously on the edge of the sofa, bouncing his leg. Today, the man who claimed to be Evelyn’s fiancé would finally appear.
‘Just what kind of guy is he that the noble lady who used to pine for me suddenly turned away?’
Dahlia had said he might be a fake fiancé. Ulysses thought the same at first, but the more he thought about it, the less likely it seemed.
‘Unless she truly hates me now, there’s no way she’d just kick aside my…’
For the record, Ulysses’s thing was still intact.
Anyway, that wasn’t the point. Aside from the Prabiche family, no one in the empire could surpass him. So who was this guy who managed to seduce Evelyn in a single day?
‘Still, if he isn’t a fake fiancé, none of this adds up.’
“…Ha.”
‘No, even if he is a fake fiancé, why would she kick me to the curb?’
“Your Highness.”
‘Who the hell is it? Who dared… wait, did I just say dared? Why? Why does it sound like I’m bitter over losing her—’
“Your Highness!”
As the voice calling him snapped him out of his thoughts, Ulysses quickly looked up. Of course, standing before him was his lover, Dahlia.
“Your Highness, is something troubling you?”
Dahlia sat beside him, looking worried, and took his hand in hers. The moment her soft hand touched him, all the clutter in Ulysses’s head cleared like mist.
Smiling gently at the sudden calm that washed over him, Ulysses shook his head.
“No, it’s nothing. Nothing at all.”
“…”
Dahlia was sure he was hiding something. But she couldn’t push him for answers—not when he looked so genuinely at ease.
It would seem strange to press further. So instead, she gave him his favorite gentle smile and said,
“The party will begin soon. Let’s go, Your Highness.”
“Yes, let’s.”
Ulysses stood up first and reached out his hand to Dahlia. But just then, something about her outfit caught his eye—something that wouldn’t normally have bothered him.
He sighed and said,
“Didn’t I give you a dress as a gift?”
He had given her many gifts, including dresses. But not once had Dahlia worn one of them.
Fidgeting, Dahlia made an excuse.
“It just felt like too much for someone like me…”
The truth was, she had planned to wear the dress today—to fan the flames of Evelyn’s anger.
But there’s a chance I might run into that gentleman from before.
The man who’d introduced himself as Raphael had seemed very frugal. Not wanting to come across as a flashy, superficial woman, Dahlia had opted for a modest party dress instead.
But Ulysses understood it differently.
Right… even if she had worn them, she probably would’ve been Evelyn’s punching bag.
He sighed sympathetically and pulled Dahlia into his arms. Her warm, familiar scent enveloped him.
“Don’t say that. That dress was made for you. If you won’t wear it, then who will?”
“I’ll definitely wear it next time.”
“You’d better.”
Ulysses released her and smiled in satisfaction. Dahlia smiled back and took his outstretched hand.
The two of them left the crown prince’s palace and boarded a carriage. They soon arrived at the main palace, and Dahlia carefully stepped down with Ulysses escorting her.
The herald spotted them and stood at attention, calling out with great formality,
“His Highness, Crown Prince Ulysses Etoile Sandrium—”
“Wait.”
“Your Highness?”
Ulysses cut him off and clamped a hand over his mouth. Dahlia looked at him in confusion, only to follow his gaze.
There, in the shadows near the wall, two figures were locked in a kiss.
“Eek!”
Dahlia gasped and covered her eyes with both hands. Ulysses frowned.
“How dare they do that in the sacred imperial palace…”
“It’s fine, Your Highness. Let’s just go.”
But it wasn’t so easy to ignore. Ulysses had already heard the voice.
“Move over, Raphael.”
“Just a little longer.”
The woman’s voice—pushing away the man—sounded far too familiar.
No way…
Ulysses moved instinctively.
“Your Highness!”
Dahlia rushed after him, but couldn’t keep up with his long strides.
When he saw the two figures illuminated by moonlight, Ulysses froze. Dahlia, out of breath, caught up and asked,
“Wh-Why, Your Highness…”
But she couldn’t finish. Because it didn’t make sense. Even though she could only see his back, there was no mistaking the man with long, mint-colored hair: Raphael Celestian, the Marquess.
G-Gentleman…?
He had looked so modest when they met in town, yet now he was dressed so flamboyantly. Like… like Lady Prabiche herself.
Dahlia’s gaze shifted to the woman in his arms. As if sensing their presence, the woman gently pushed Raphael away and turned.
Her languid, seductive lavender eyes… her soft, flowing pink-blonde hair…
“…Lady Prabiche.”
Evelyn—upon hearing her name—looked down at them haughtily. Her expression, usually flawless, had one glaring flaw.
A smear of red lipstick around her mouth.
Ulysses’s lips curled in disdain.
“My lady. What exactly do you think you’re doing here?”
* * *
“My lady. What exactly do you think you’re doing here?”
Judging by how Ulysses and Dahlia’s eyes were locked on my lips, I could guess what kind of misunderstanding they were having. But really, the reason my lipstick was smudged was simple.
A butterfly landing on my lips… was not a pleasant experience.
No matter how beautiful Evelyn was, I didn’t expect an actual butterfly to land on her lips.
Butterflies, it turns out, are prettier from afar. Up close, they’re a little gross. I had instinctively freaked out. Raphael had tried to help me, and of course, those two had to show up right at that moment.
Perfect timing.
Even after the butterfly flew away, my lips still felt gross and tingly. I’d rubbed at them so hard they were practically peeling, and Raphael hadn’t backed off—an act of divine luck.
Smiling sweetly, I fanned the flames of their misunderstanding.
“Can’t you tell what I’m doing?”
“Why here, of all places—!”
“Oh, please. Worse things happen on the terrace all the time. What’s so bad about a few kisses outside? It’s not like we’re strangers—we’re engaged. Right, Raphael?”
“Yes, Evelyn.”
Raphael, earning every penny, nodded calmly. Ulysses and Dahlia stiffened again. Ulysses, in particular, asked like an idiot,
“En… gaged? To him?”
“This is my fiancé, Marquess Raphael Celestian.”
Raphael gave a polite bow. I casually rested my hand on his shoulder, and he instinctively wrapped an arm around my waist.
“Your Highness asked me to bring him today, so I did. Do you believe me now?”
“…”
But it wasn’t the reaction I expected. Ulysses was one thing—but even Dahlia looked like a mute mermaid, her mouth opening and closing wordlessly.
What’s with them?
A bad feeling crept over me. I said hastily,
“Your Highness, we’ll go in first. It wouldn’t be proper for us to enter after you.”
“We’ll see you inside, then.”
We walked past the original main couple. Once we were far enough away, I whispered to Raphael,
“They weren’t very… enthusiastic, were they?”
“No. That was not the reaction of people who were happy a nuisance was gone. Also, you should fix your lipstick.”
“Oh.”
Apparently still committed to his role until we left the palace, Raphael took out a handkerchief and gently wiped my smudged lips.
Despite how little time had passed since I’d possessed this body, I’d already grown used to being pampered. As Raphael fixed my lips, I frowned and mulled over a thought.
Why do they look so annoyed that the villain is out of the picture?
In Oh, My Dahlia, there were many antagonists, but the Prabiche family had only ever viewed Evelyn as an inconvenience—not someone to be actively destroyed.
Which meant I, Evelyn, was the real obstacle now.
Villains are supposed to disappear so the protagonists can have their happy ending. But with a reaction like that…
Don’t tell me… this is one of those twisted relationships that only works when the villain sticks around.
Like the kind where tormenting the villain is what brings the two lovers together.
Now that I think about it, Ulysses was always the one most eager to take Evelyn down…
In the original story, Ulysses was the classic white knight—riding in to save Dahlia from the wicked villainess Evelyn.
But he’s honestly dumber than expected. Aggressive, sure—but really, just hot-tempered.
Suddenly, I remembered the mystery of the wide-brimmed hat. Ulysses still thought I had ruined it.
No way…
I glanced at Dahlia’s bowed head—still in shock—and hoped I was wrong. But just in case, I decided to prepare.
It takes a fox to know a fox. So I asked Raphael,
“Raphael. What’s your impression of Lady Hebe?”
