CH 23

If Odette had her way, all the imperial investigators and guards in the world would be unable to find Marienne Didi.

“I’ve died and came back to life.”

Vileon said to Marienne’s mutterings.

“I’m afraid that’s becoming a speciality of Aide Didi.”

“What? It’s not my speciality.”

Technically, Vileon was saving her every time. Marienne’s eyebrows drooped further.

“Hmph.”

She wasn’t trying to be silly. Without realising it, she had come close to dying again. Odette’s terror was different from that of the beastly northerner.

A whimper escaped him, a belated relief.

“What will I do without Lord Byers?”

I owe you this favour.

“Thank you for not kicking me out.”

“Don’t say that.”

Vileon gave me a stern look.

“I told you, I’m the one who should be thanking you.”

He waited for Marienne to recover her emotions before advising her.

Odette now knows of Marienne’s plan to cut the Duke’s hair.

Odette has given her promise to stay out of it, but that doesn’t mean she thinks it’s okay to make the Duke bald.

“Her Highness and the Duke have many similarities. Being proud is one of them.”

Vileon deliberately lowered his eyes to hers.

“So, Marienne, if you’re going to take the Duke’s head off, please don’t do it the day before an event the two of them are attending together.”

“Ah.”

“A duke is a duke, but Her Highness won’t give you any more chances, especially when it comes to his hair, and by her own admission, she’ll be furious.”

First warning, a yellow paper bird.

Second warning, pig blood and intestines.

The third warning, a red card, was narrowly averted by Vileon earlier, so Marienne has no chances left.

Let’s not push Odette into a situation where we can’t even postpone the event. Let’s hold our own.

Marienne took Vileon’s advice to heart.

“But what event would they both attend together?”

If there’s going to be an imperial ball or something soon, and I need to know the date in advance.

Vileon replied quietly.

“A couple’s engagement, for example.”

He paused for a moment.

“It’s next Friday.”

◇ ◆ ◇

‘I thought this was going to be bad, but it’s even worse than I expected.’

Today is the day of the engagement of the Fourth Princess to the Duke of Blackwood. Despite her best efforts, she had been unable to prevent this day from coming.

She wondered if other book possessors feels the same way she did.

Marienne grimaced, like someone who swallowed cod liver oil and can’t seem to rinse their mouth out.

The taste of cod liver oil reminded her of Cain Blackwood.

‘In a word, nauseating.’

Marienne’s after-dinner game of lies last night had taught her a taste she’d never known.

To put it simply, people from the Earl of Byers were geniuses at shameless acting, and Marienne Didi was not one of them.

From the moment she saw the word murder on the card she’d drawn, Marienne had lost control of her facial muscles.

Vileon, who was worse off, tried to turn the arrow to someone else, but his strategy failed.

Marienne was forced to lift the lid of a small jar in the middle of the table and gulp down a spoonful of cod liver oil.

“Poor aide. How unfortunate.”

Even Daisy, the youngest of the Byers, who had persisted with Marienne to the end, looked pitiful at the sight.

The Countess explained that the disgusting oil was a wonderful nourishment for the heart.

Of course it is, it must be very good for you.

And I was beginning to think that even fish oil, so fishy and horrible, was more useful than the northern guy.

“Aide Didi?”

Chloise, the second child of the Byers, entered the guest room.

“Have you finished choosing your dress?”

“I can’t decide between the two.”

“May I help you?”

Chloise approached with a confident stride, but then ran into a conundrum.

“Um, Aide.”

Chloise chose her words with a complicated face.

“We’re attending an engagement ceremony, and after the ceremony there’s a ball, so why are you choosing between the same black outfit…”

“They’re not the same at all, look. The one on the right has lace all the way down the sleeves, and the one on the left has ruffles running vertically from the chest.”

“Black dresses like these are for funerals.”

I know, I know. Today is the funeral day of my heart. Marienne said to herself.

‘But Odette won’t let you go if you actually wear this.’

Witness the brilliance of the original heroine, who immediately pours pig blood and entrails over her head because her opponent doesn’t understand her elegant warning like a paper bird.

If it hadn’t been for Vileon, the lowly Marienne Didi would have been gutted early on.

Her upper half in a nameless field, her lower half in a ruined sea.

It was said that she never found her head.

‘You need to keep your head on straight.’

In other versions of the play, a heroine whose place at the centre is threatened might be blackened and turned into a villain, but not Odette.

Odette is already complete.

She doesn’t need to be blackened to deal with obstacles.

“Haha, I was just kidding, actually. I think I’ll wear this…”

Marienne pulled a glossy light grey dress from her wardrobe.

It had puffy puff sleeves, lattice embroidery, and pearls at the corners.

The colours were subdued, but the pleats and ribbon trim at the back suggested it was glamorous, but not to Chloise’s eyes.

“Too bland for an aide your age…”

Excuse me, maternal noblewoman. There are dozens of pearls on the shoulders here.

“Ah, it would look better with diamonds.”

Chloise asked me to wait a moment and then brought something from her room. She held out a platinum tiara and necklace set with diamonds.

I was afraid to ask how many carats they were.

“Now that’s a ballgown!”

Chloise beamed. Marienne immediately fell to her knees and begged her not to punish her with the diamonds.

“I’m going to lose it, I’m definitely, definitely, definitely going to lose it, and I haven’t got a cent to make it up to you!”

Chloise was horrified and tried to help Marienne to her feet. It had worked so well on Vileon, and it was working on his sister.

Eventually, Marienne was able to leave the Count’s house without anything around her neck.

She was so drunk with relief that she didn’t notice Chloise scribbling in her notebook with a puzzled look on her face.

◇ ◆ ◇

Marienne was allowed to attend the ceremony as the Chancellor’s aide, but since she wasn’t a noble, she was given the seat at edge of the back row.

‘A good place to go to the washroom.’

That’s about it. She had the advantage of not being able to see the annoying northerner’s face. She was quite content.

But Chloise felt sorry for her.

“Maybe when Byers becomes a man, we can have a front row seat.”

I appreciate the kind words. But as much as the Countess likes me, I don’t think she’d adopt a full-grown adult.

Marienne smiled wryly and waved Chloise off to the front row.

The engagement ceremony took place in a sacred atmosphere. It was so solemn that I was slightly confused as to whether it was a coronation or an engagement.

It was made more solemn by the fact that Odette and Cain both wore stoic expressions and didn’t smile for a moment.

“Still, they’re handsome and beautiful, so it’s fitting to see them side by side.”

“Their auras are similar.”

“Her Highness, the Fourth Princess, is looking radiant today.”

“I thought the Duke of Blackwood would never marry.”

“That’s true, and it’s to the Fourth Princess. I must confess, I doubted it at first.”

Despite the solemn atmosphere, there was plenty to talk about. Marienne listened to the gossip out of the corner of her eye, watching for an opportunity to slip out of the ceremony.

A lady with a handkerchief over her mouth quickly made her way to the doorway. Her chance was now.

‘Let’s bury her!’

Marienne pretended to help the lady and ran out of the ceremony.

The security officer, who would have pestered her with questions about who she was, where she was going, and to wait until she was finished, recognised the pregnant lady and quickly opened the door for her.

Probably a lady of high birth. For some reason, the size of the gemstone in her brooch was unusual. No wonder she was a commoner and a civil servant.

Marienne escorted the distraught lady to the lavatory and then casually parted ways.

From now on, she will be busy.

Today is D-Day.

Marienne was about to enter the northerner’s bathroom and swap shampoo for depilatory when all eyes in the palace were on the engagement ceremony.

That’s right. She’s going to try the plan that failed last time.

As she walked down the hallway, out of sight, she remembered an unexpected discovery from the engagement.

‘Odette’s engagement dress is different from the original.’

In the original work, Odette wore a rosy red silk dress that matched the colour of her eyes.

However, the dress we saw earlier was purple, embroidered with silver thread. She didn’t get a good look at Odette’s face, but she did see her dress dragging on the floor.

‘That means there’s a chance the plot could change…!’

Marienne’s heart pounded with anticipation.

The key to the lavish room had already been obtained from Vileon.

Marienne peeked through the heavy curtains into the hallway. There was no one in front of Cain’s room.

Just wait peeled hard-boiled egg. I’m coming.

Just then, a voice spoke behind her as she strode confidently on. It was a low voice, barely above a whisper.

“Sister, are you lost?”

The voice was so close she could hear the other person’s breathing.

She couldn’t believe he’d been this close and not noticed. Marienne whirled around, furious.

The first thing she saw was a silver rosary necklace.

The man with the blood-soaked auburn hair was dressed in form-fitting priestly robe.

Suddenly, the scent of crushed rose petals wafted through the air. The man’s long, dense auburn eyelashes were accentuated by his slow blinks.

There was an illusion of purple smoke rising behind him. Marienne was confused.

‘Who are you, and why do you have special effects?’

And as soon as the man began to speak again, Marienne thought she knew who he was.

“I hope I can be of any use to you, dear sister…”

A decadent atmosphere that somehow reminded her of a snake tempting her to eat from the tree of knowledge of good and evil.

Priest Leslie Anais.

Marienne’s opinion of him was the same as it had always been.

A cult.