~Chapter 15~
“For the Emperor’s birthday banquet—don’t you think silk would be the perfect fabric?”
“….”
“And what about blue? Like your eyes and hair. It’s a color that suits me too, you know.”
“….”
It was one of Duke Peredil Seymour’s rare days off.
Even though the imperial palace mandated time off, he found going to work much more tolerable.
Having never truly rested in his life, relaxation felt more like a burden than a reprieve.
He was haunted by the constant feeling that he would never live up to his father’s legacy—so simply not working filled him with a crushing anxiety.
Besides, work kept his mind from drifting to unpleasant thoughts.
That made his office the only place he could truly call a sanctuary.
But not even he could defy a direct imperial order.
So he spent the day waiting for this unwanted vacation to be over—something he had, by now, grown used to doing.
He was quietly enjoying a rare moment of peace in the library of his estate when an unwelcome guest appeared.
“Why so silent? I’m only trying to make sure my fiancé looks perfect at the Volleingan banquet.”
“….”
He wanted to tell her that if she really cared, she’d do better to leave him alone instead of fussing about clothes.
But he bit his tongue.
He figured it was better to say nothing than give her a reason to talk more.
“Ugh, looks like I’ll be seeing that face I hate again—Luna Woodville.”
Vivian knew exactly what buttons to push. She dropped the name like a weapon, and sure enough, Peredil flinched—just slightly, but enough.
He tried to hide it, but she noticed, of course. She always did.
“Don’t worry,” she said, flashing a sly smile. “You think I’d cause a scene in front of His Majesty? I’m not that reckless. So how about dropping the scary glare?”
“I’m not glaring,” he muttered, turning to the window.
That’s when she casually lifted herself onto his desk and perched there like she owned the place.
“She’ll be there too, won’t she?”
That caught his attention.
When he turned back to look at her, Vivian reached out and pressed her cold hand against his cheek.
“You know, that girl. The one who made your heart race. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten already?”
His expression twisted.
The mere memory of that redhead—the woman who had stirred up his emotions without warning—left a bitter taste.
If he ran into her again, it would only throw him off.
Just like last time.
“Doesn’t it disgust you?” Vivian whispered.
“Seeing someone rise through pure luck, without even trying?”
No sooner had she said that than Peredil’s mind conjured Joyce’s angry face—the way she’d lashed out at him.
And in that moment, he felt ashamed to even be standing next to a woman like Vivian, who gossiped and sneered like a petty aristocrat.
He stood up abruptly and shot her a cold glare.
“Don’t touch me without permission.”
Meanwhile…
“Lady Luna, does the Duke still avoid eye contact whenever you run into him at court?”
“Hmm… I wish he would. But I think he still stares at me like he’s trying to burn a hole through me.”
Well, of course Peredil still couldn’t ignore Luna.
She was the one who saved his life.
And instead of repaying her, he ended up making her suffer—largely thanks to Vivian.
It wasn’t strange that he felt guilty.
After all, he kept seeing Luna cry.
I first read The Moon of Coventin in college for a character analysis assignment—and I got an A+ for it.
Back then, I wrote that Peredil’s feelings for Luna early on were rooted in guilt.
After she moved to the capital, she was always crying. And he felt bad.
He pitied her.
He wanted to fix it, even though he rarely cared about anything that didn’t benefit him.
Guilt can turn into love—just like hatred can.
That’s what happened with Peredil and Luna.
Emotions don’t exist in a vacuum. Even if you think you’re feeling them alone, they’re always tied to someone else.
So, before his guilt turns into love, I need to redirect those feelings my way.
The problem?
Peredil isn’t someone who confronts emotions head-on.
He avoids them.
So I’ll have to take the scenic route.
“Sigh… We’ve got a long road ahead.”
“Don’t get discouraged. I believe in the story you’re writing, Joyce.”
“Luna…”
Thanks to her kind words, the stress clouding my mind cleared.
With my confidence back, I eagerly shared my plan for the next episode.
“I’m trying something new at the Emperor’s banquet—something different from what I’ve done so far. But first, I need to solidify the Duke’s feelings toward me.”
“Feelings? What kind?”
“Hatred, of course.”
A new voice chimed in. Count Philip, who had recently decided to start speaking to me informally, had apparently been listening.
It was a warm day, and Luna and I were chatting on the terrace.
I had no idea when the Count had arrived.
His wife, Madam Molly, stood behind him, smiling awkwardly.
She’d clearly been dragged here.
“I want the Duke to confront me this time,” I said. “Up until now, it’s always been me who approached him. This time, I want him to be the one to snap first.”
They all stared blankly.
Guess I didn’t explain it well.
“Back where I’m from, we have a saying: ‘Even a worm will squirm when stepped on.’”
“Another new idiom!” Luna exclaimed, eyes sparkling.
She was always fascinated by my sayings, like they were magic spells.
“According to my character analysis, the Duke is the kind of person who blames himself for everything. He avoids conflict and doesn’t like to make a scene.”
Everyone nodded solemnly, totally absorbed.
Their attention made me giddy.
“So instead of yelling at me, he blamed himself for hurting Luna. That guilt is the only reason he let me off the hook. But—”
(Okay, I knew all this because I’d read the novel, but I was delivering it like some prophetic genius.)
“But… the Duke is colder than ice. He’s not going to show emotion easily, is he?”
Even quiet Madam Molly couldn’t hold back her curiosity.
“Exactly. That’s why we need the worm.”
“The worm?”
“Yes! He may look lifeless, but even the Duke will flinch if I keep stepping on him. Guilt only goes so far.”
“So you’re calling the Duke a worm?” the Count asked, eyes wide.
“Right. He’s the worm. If I keep poking at his conscience, he’ll twitch.”
Philip and Molly looked impressed.
“I’m going to walk with Luna to and from work—just enough to make the Duke go, ‘What the hell did I even do wrong?!’”
Philip raised a hand like a kid in class.
“What’s the title of this episode? Last one was A Stormy First Encounter, right?”
“Haven’t decided yet.”
“Honey, since we’re making the Duke squirm, how about The Duke Is a Worm?”
“No, no—Stomping the Duke is way better!”
Those two were completely in fan mode, bickering like teenagers over episode titles.
Luna looked horrified.
Eventually, she and I had to break them up before night fell.
In the end, we reached a truce:
The second episode would be called:
“Stomping on the Worm Duke.”
Peredil’s vacation ends tomorrow.
That means tomorrow…
the stomping begins.
