Chapter 16
When the woman heard that, she looked between Dohyuk and Joseph and smiled sweetly.
That smile was almost fairy-like—something out of a storybook.
Her mysterious beauty, unlike anything he had ever seen before, only added to the impression.
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Didier. You came to the Rubiche estate before, didn’t you? Though I believe this is the first time we’ve met face to face. I’m Ena Nox Rubiche.”
Lifting the hem of her dress, she curtsied gracefully.
Joseph gave a sheepish smile. He knew exactly what she was referring to—the time when Dohyuk had refused to leave the Rubiche estate for days, and Joseph had to personally drag him out of there.
Just then, the Empress came out of the drawing room a little late and froze for a moment when she saw them.
“What are you all doing here instead of leaving?”
At her composed voice, Dohyuk, who had been staring intently at the little bell ornament, looked up.
“We were waiting for Ena.”
He gave the bell a pitiful look.
“Do you hate it when I wait for you?”
“Can I be honest?”
Bell glanced at Joseph and the Empress, gauging their reactions. When Dohyuk’s eyes lit up and he nodded eagerly, she replied without hesitation.
“It’s annoying.”
Pfft. The Empress couldn’t help laughing, then quickly looked embarrassed when all eyes turned toward her.
Dohyuk looked crushed.
“I was waiting to take you back to the Rubiche estate. Isn’t this what people usually do when they’re… you know, flirting?”
Flirting.
There it was again. Joseph gave the pair a baffled look. Dohyuk had once more used one of those strange, incomprehensible expressions—words that didn’t exist in any Imperial dictionary.
Normally, people couldn’t understand a word of his and just assumed he was eccentric. The young ladies who tried to act as if they did usually ended up being ignored.
Would even Bell understand that bizarre way of speaking?
“What? Flirting? Flurting? What nonsense. We’re not flirting, we’re fighting. Stop bothering me and go home.”
To Joseph’s surprise, they actually understood each other. Bell even shot back with a made-up word of her own that matched his tone perfectly.
“This is my home,” Dohyuk said.
“That’s not what I meant. I mean go back to your room. I’m going home too.”
“Oh, but I have a room in the Rubiche estate too, don’t I? That means it’s my home as well. Doesn’t the Marquess of Rubiche need a son-in-law? Think about it, Bell. You said you’d give me a chance.”
Son-in-law? Joseph blinked in fascination. Would she understand that word too?
“What do you mean, son-in-law? Do you have any idea how harmful your presence already is to my family’s mental health? If you actually lived in the Rubiche estate, my foster father would foam at the mouth and collapse!”
Sure enough, Bell responded with perfect understanding.
“So being a son-in-law itself isn’t the problem, then?”
Bell fell silent, but Joseph could read the next unspoken line clearly on her scrunched-up face—like a crumpled paper ball.
“What a fascinating young lady,” the Empress murmured.
“Indeed,” Joseph said blankly. “How is she even able to talk with His Highness?”
At that time, the serialized novel The Man of Frederica had reached its climax. The young ladies who had always hovered around Lady Serinne were now avoiding her one by one.
I watched her from afar as she quietly tidied up her desk—her back looking terribly lonely.
“I don’t really feel sorry for her,” Armand said beside me as we studied near the classroom doorway. “Lady Serinne brought this on herself.”
I propped my chin on my hand and smiled faintly.
She was right. Self-inflicted.
But just then, Lady Serinne—who I thought was far away—came up and stood right next to us. Armand yelped, toppled backward off her chair, and crashed to the floor with a loud noise that echoed through the empty classroom.
“I know it’s you. Only you would do something like that.”
Serinne’s voice was calm, not angry.
It was obvious she was talking about The Man of Frederica.
Only I would do such a thing, she said? It wasn’t as if this was the first time she’d made enemies.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, helping Armand back to her seat.
Serinne bit her lower lip hard.
I could guess what had happened—perhaps a hint from Prince Verdi, or maybe one of his noble supporters had spoken to her father, the Marquis.
After all, I hadn’t gone out of my way to keep my identity secret from The Alpine Newspaper. Anyone doing a little digging could easily discover that I, Ena Rubiche, was the writer Kaden.
“Because you’re the writer Kaden, aren’t you?”
Serinne spat the words between clenched teeth, her voice heavy with resentment.
That was strange.
She was the very person who had planted false rumors about me in the Alpine Newspaper. Did she really think I wouldn’t retaliate?
Unless… she hadn’t even known what she was doing—perhaps manipulated by others who wanted to bring me down, thinking I was on Crown Prince Reynold’s side.
“What makes you think that?” I asked calmly.
Serinne hesitated before answering.
“Prince Verdi told me.”
Just as I’d suspected. I had planned to reveal my identity after finishing the series anyway, so I hadn’t bothered asking Editor Herred to keep it secret—but I hadn’t expected my name to spread this quickly.
“If you think I’ll just sit back and do nothing, you’re mistaken.”
She glared at me for a long moment, then turned sharply and left the classroom, heels clicking like sparks.
It wasn’t hard to predict what she would do next.
So that very day, I contacted Herred, the editor-in-chief of The Alpine Newspaper.
『What Is the Real Relationship Between the Crown Prince and Lady Rubiche!?』
『Reporter Eleanor, Who Wrote the Lady Rubiche Feature, Dismissed? Was It Due to the Prince’s Threats!?』
『The Shocking Past of Lady Rubiche—An In-Depth Investigation!』
『Marquis Serinne’s Daughter Speaks: “Everything About Lady Rubiche!”』
Herred had proposed an exclusive interview with Lady Serinne—and she had taken the bait without hesitation, happily slandering me for the entire piece.
The problem was that my foster father and Rioel had no idea what I was doing.
When the interview came out, Rioel was furious. He stormed straight to Winterse, the Marquis’s eldest son, and challenged him to a duel.
The issue? Winterse wasn’t even a knight—he was a civil official. Worse yet, he worked as Prince Verdi’s aide. Apparently, Rioel had barged right into his office in the prince’s palace and thrown a white glove in his face. If Argan hadn’t gone to stop him, it could have turned into a real disaster.
That, at least, was what my informant—adorable, squirrel-like Armand—told me afterward. Everyone else was advising her not to associate with me anymore, but thankfully, she didn’t care and still came to study with me after class.
Even so, things were escalating far beyond what I had intended. The rumors about me and Chodorn had gotten so out of hand that the Emperor himself summoned us to his office.
“I don’t recall Your Majesty ever personally concerning yourself with such matters,” Chodorn said—not defiant, just genuinely puzzled—as he looked the Emperor straight in the eye.
The Emperor sighed heavily from the sofa opposite us.
At moments like this, he almost looked like an ordinary father dealing with a troublesome son.
Almost.
Because to me, it didn’t feel real—it felt performed, as if he wanted to play the role of a gentle, exasperated father.
In truth, it seemed more like he wanted Chodorn to be a problem child, just so he could look like a magnanimous father cleaning up after him.
“I don’t know what the two of you really are to each other,” the Emperor finally said. “But for now, you should keep your distance.”
It sounded almost like something a disapproving father-in-law would say—“I oppose this marriage!”
“The worse public opinion is about me, the better it reflects on Your Majesty,” Chodorn replied evenly.
“Clode.”
The Emperor’s voice dropped cold and low.
I suddenly felt itchy, restless—like I desperately wanted to leave.
Ah. Maybe I should excuse myself.
“If Lady Rubiche suffers any harm because of this, that’s a different matter,” the Emperor said.
I stared at him in disbelief.
Wait. So he was admitting that Chodorn’s bad reputation benefited him?
“Are you saying this out of concern for Ena,” Chodorn said coolly, “or because your plan to isolate me fell apart?”
His tone remained calm, but his words were sharp as blades.
Even sitting next to him, I could feel the sting of it.
Seeing my discomfort, Chodorn sighed, then stood up.
“If that’s all Your Majesty wished to say, we’ll take our leave.”
He extended his hand toward me.
I glanced at the Emperor, then at the maids and aides in the room, before finally taking Chodorn’s hand and standing.
“Lady Rubiche,” the Emperor called out in a leisurely, predatory tone as he leaned back on the sofa.
“A word of advice. You’d better stay away from Clode.”
His gaze was chilling—serpentine and sly, as if he might strike at any moment.
It felt as though one wrong step could make me his prey.
The way he looked at Chodorn wasn’t fatherly—it was possessive, like he saw his son as an object, a tool.
That unnatural fixation sent a shiver through me.
“Thank you for your advice,” I said politely, though my voice was hollow. I bowed and followed Chodorn out.
“Is he… really your father?” I asked once we were outside the imperial palace—then immediately regretted it. “I’m sorry. That was rude of me.”
“I wish I could deny it myself,” Chodorn murmured bitterly. “So I can only imagine how it looks to others.”
His quiet tone made my chest ache.
“I apologize on his behalf,” he added softly. “Don’t let his words trouble you.”
Then, with a gentle smile, he reached out and patted my head.
His expression was calm—so ordinary that I couldn’t tell if he was actually hurt or simply used to it.
Unable to think of any comforting words, all I could do was nod silently.
