Chapter 21
“Hey, Mister Jang. Are we done with today’s work?”
“Hahaha! Have some snacks, snacks!”
“Alright! Another productive day of farming!”
I don’t know when it started, but at some point, the Black Hawks began talking like this.
‘Does farming enthusiasm spread by contact or something?’
I watched them plowing the fields while laughing loudly, completely unimpressed, then squatted down and started doodling on the ground.
Without thinking, my hand drew Aksion.
A very small Aksion, especially compared to Vanilla.
‘He needs to be taller than the female lead… sob.’
Ever since I realized that Aksion’s growth had stopped, I’d been clutching my head and worrying whenever I had free time.
Not long ago, I used to scoff at moms who fed deer antler medicine to help their kids grow.
I never thought I’d become someone worrying about a child’s growth myself.
‘Ugh…’
Could Ruben—the being that grows by eating misfortune—be related to Aksion?
Thinking about the book I read in the library, I slumped my shoulders even more.
If I searched for more information, would I find a clue?
“Cillia!”
I heard Cedric’s voice just as my shoulders drooped so much they might reach the Earth’s core.
“I was looking for you.”
“Huh? Why?”
Cedric walked up to me, pink hair fluttering.
He was still learning how to farm, wearing boots and a straw hat.
Though at this stage, “farming” was really just shaping the fields and turning soil.
“There’s going to be a ball for His Majesty the Emperor’s birthday soon, and you were invited too.”
“…Huh?”
That Emperor Scarlet?
Why would she invite me…?
When I stared at him blankly, Cedric smiled shyly.
“You’ve looked kind of down lately, so I recommended you go to cheer up.”
After saying that awkwardly, he hopped away toward the fields like a rabbit.
He looked exactly like a high school girl walking away shyly after confessing.
Ah.
So you recommended me.
“……”
Telling me to go to a ball to cheer up—only he would think that was a good idea.
Cillia’s social circle was extremely small, so she was almost never invited to balls.
And she didn’t enjoy crowded places like marketplaces anyway.
So of course, a ball wouldn’t be refreshing.
‘But the kind of “refreshing” he means isn’t that, is it?’
Cillia had a pretty face, and surprisingly, she was popular at balls—men often approached her.
But once, when a rude nobleman crossed the line, she took off her shoe and slapped him across the face.
That incident made her famous.
She had said this afterward:
“Ah. I thought he was a pest stuck to a potato.”
Remembering that, I made a serious face.
So when Cedric told me to go to the ball to refresh myself, what he really meant was—
Go beat someone up and come back.
* * *
“You said you weren’t going, so what is this?”
“So what.”
Clop, clop.
I heard horse hooves outside, along with carriage wheels rolling smoothly along the paved road.
With a sulky face, I looked at the man sitting across from me.
Legs crossed, posture arrogant—
Of course, it was Dazhar.
‘Isn’t the Emperor’s birthday ball coming up? Are you going too?’
‘Why would I? It’s annoying.’
He definitely said that.
So why are you here now?
“Do you think I’m going because I want to?”
Dazhar muttered irritably, twitching his eyebrow.
I had planned to sneak off alone.
Apparently, Dazhar had never attended the Emperor’s birthday ball before.
But this year, Emperor Scarlet personally named him and summoned him.
‘Sigh.’
We had one thing in common: neither of us wanted to go.
But I still had two reasons why I had to.
First, Cedric had submitted my name—if I skipped, it would hurt his reputation.
Second, there was something I needed in the capital.
‘I heard there’s a famous mechanical craftsman there.’
I planned to commission farming machines for rice cultivation.
So even if I went to the ball, I’d just show my face briefly and sneak out.
After all, the celebrations lasted several days.
* * *
After traveling for half a day, we arrived at the capital, which was overflowing with festival energy for the Emperor’s birthday.
Passing through brightly decorated streets, we entered the Imperial Palace.
After resting in the prepared rooms, we headed to the ballroom the next day.
“Duke Dazhar Siastor enters!”
At the attendant’s loud announcement, the chatter in the ballroom stopped instantly.
Hiding slightly behind Dazhar, I watched the nobles’ faces fill with admiration—and fear.
His status really was something else.
“Oh my, isn’t that Duke Siastor?”
“They said he changed his schedule to attend. He really came.”
“He’s never attended the Emperor’s birthday before.”
“Pardon me—haven’t you heard? That child. Perhaps he decided she needs a mother?”
“Oh my!”
Voices searching for daughters filled the room the moment he entered.
Dazhar must have heard them too, but he simply smiled gently.
Still, I caught his quiet whisper.
“Don’t go anywhere. Stay next to me.”
“Why?”
“To block the ‘mom brigade,’ I need someone with your reputation.”
“……”
Thanks for acknowledging my infamous reputation.
But I refuse.
I conveyed my feelings with an indifferent look, but he didn’t even glance at me and walked inside.
Since I’d been hiding behind him, I had no choice but to follow.
“Lady Cillia Evanroar enters!”
The attendant announced loudly.
The ballroom froze again.
I felt countless eyes snap toward me.
“Eek…!”
Someone even gasped in fear.
They probably remembered me slapping a nobleman with my shoe at the last ball.
I forced an awkward smile, checked my name on the list, and entered.
‘Feels like I’m casting a spell.’
The nobles parted before me like a receding tide.
‘My reputation really is impressive.’
I knew my reputation wasn’t good—but seeing nobles desperately avoid eye contact…
‘Nice.’
I hated crowded places, so this was extremely comfortable.
Unlike me, Dazhar was surrounded by people.
I saw his golden eyes roll toward me.
They were clearly saying:
Get over here, now!
But—
I had no intention of listening.
I crab-walked sideways, slowly putting distance between us.
“Why should I stay next to him?”
I shrugged and slipped out of the ballroom.
Cedric might have recommended the ball as a way to “blow off steam,” but I wasn’t interested.
I’m a pacifist, you know!
“Is this the way?”
I left immediately after stepping foot in the ballroom.
To reach the capital streets, I had to exit the palace, so I strode through its wide halls.
Instead of the main road, I took a garden path to avoid being caught by Dazhar.
That’s when I heard it.
Rustle.
Rustle, rustle.
It was the kind of noise that felt like it was demanding to be noticed.
“……”
I decided to ignore it.
It felt like trouble.
But then a small voice called out behind me.
“H-Hey!”
A woman’s voice—strange and suspicious.
Reluctantly, I turned.
A woman was tangled awkwardly in bushes.
She wore a yellow cloth over her head and huge glasses.
Suspicious didn’t even begin to cover it.
“…C-Could you help me?”
“……”
Every instinct screamed that helping her would bring trouble.
But somehow, not helping felt even worse.
So I helped.
“Thank you. Ahem.”
“You’re welcome. People should help each other.”
I smiled kindly as she brushed leaves off her clothes.
“Did you sneak out of the ballroom too?”
I was planning to leave immediately, but she was heading the same way.
What’s with that old-man way of talking?
I nodded.
“Yes. You too?”
“You too…?”
“Oh—um. Miss? Lady? Noblewoman? What should I call you?”
Cillia had no friends besides Cedric—especially no female friends.
And as Karl once said, she never received proper etiquette education.
And I was a transmigrator, so of course I didn’t know noble etiquette.
I had no idea how to talk to noble ladies.
“Ahem. Just call me Scarl— ah, no. Call me Kal.”
“You can’t.”
“What? Why?”
“That’s my butler’s name.”
Sorry, but as a former romance-fantasy reader, I refuse name duplicates.
“……”
She looked taken aback.
Then she muttered, “Hmm, fair enough,” and spoke again.
“Then call me Retsi.”
“Okay, Retsi. I’m Cillia.”
“Cillia? Cillia Evanroar?”
She seemed to recognize me.
