Chapter 126
Arcanda was innocent and adored by everyone. But perhaps because of that, she was lacking when it truly mattered. Her grasp of etiquette was shallow, and she lacked the poise and refinement expected of a noble lady.
It had never mattered. Everyone loved her anyway.
“Arcanda. You’re not upset because I suddenly interrupted, are you?”
“Hm?”
Stepping closer, Iora lowered her voice and, just as Arcanda herself had done moments earlier, put on a faintly sorrowful, apologetic expression. The important part was to speak first—to gently pour out her words before Arcanda had the chance to say anything.
“I truly was just passing by… And it wasn’t that I was ignoring you. It’s just that, with His Imperial Highness standing here, it would have been rather… improper for me to greet you before him.”
As expected, Arcanda was quick to grasp the situation.
Iora watched as uncertainty flickered across her face, the corners of her eyes softening with unfamiliar confusion.
“O-Ovid… I’m sorry. I was just so happy to see Iora that…”
“It’s all right, Arcanda.”
Oh, how utterly adorable she is.
“I’m sorry, Iora.”
“It’s all right. You’ve already apologized, haven’t you? If you keep apologizing like that, it’ll start to sound as though I’d done something terrible to you. Arcanda, I didn’t do anything, did I?”
Just as always. I never did anything.
Carrying that unspoken meaning, Iora smiled warmly. Even standing before that sickeningly hypocritical girl, she found herself smiling.
Perhaps she owed that to Vigros, who had so generously demonstrated just how terrifying a smile could be.
“N-No. As if you could have done anything wrong.”
“Mm. Thank you. But next time, I think it would be better not to behave that way in front of His Imperial Highness. Ah… you’re not upset with me, are you? I only said it because I was worried someone might speak poorly of you over this, Arcanda…”
To anyone watching, Iora’s conduct had been impeccably proper. Even the maids who had been insulting her moments before found themselves unable to utter a single word.
From behind her, Shana let out a delighted little giggle. “Hehe!”
For a split second, the corners of Iora’s lips nearly twitched.
Shana, honestly, what am I supposed to do with you if you’re this pleased?
“I-I see. Thank you, Iora!”
But Arcanda remained undeterred.
Beaming with a radiant smile that no one could possibly criticize, she reached out. Her hand came close enough to link arms before gently resting on Iora’s sleeve. It wasn’t rude. It was an innocent, endearing gesture.
Yet that easy familiarity sent a chill racing down Iora’s spine.
“Iora, now that we’ve run into each other, would you like to spend some time together? We never really got the chance to talk last time. I truly want us to become friends. We’re in the same position, after all.”
“Here? Right now?”
“…Mm.”
It was simply a continuation of the conversation from moments ago.
Iora narrowed her eyes.
Her escort knight, Guillen, stepped forward as though to offer Arcanda his place. His gaze briefly lingered on her before falling away again.
It was a look of admiration. It was familiar. Far too familiar.
The realization hit Iora all at once.
As she took her seat, Arcanda hurried after her and settled into the chair beside her.
Then, wearing an expression overflowing with guilt, as though she had been waiting for the chance to bring it up, Arcanda leaned in and whispered:
“Why? Are you still upset because of what happened the other day? But I…”
With effortless grace, Iora cut her off.
The intention behind Arcanda’s words was painfully obvious. She was trying, once again, to paint Iora as the cruel, spiteful villainess who lashed out over nothing.
“Oh, I know what you’re about to say. But, Arcanda, I told you—I truly am not angry. Fortunately, I have a little time to spare at the moment.” She turned to the crown prince. “Your Imperial Highness, if it pleases you, would you allow me to join your conversation for a while? The two of you are quite close, so I’m sure you wouldn’t take offense if Arcanda forgot to ask your permission first.”
“…Very well. If you have no objection, my lady, then you’re welcome to join us.”
Because her words had been cut short, Iora caught the sharp click of Arcanda’s fingernails striking together.
She seemed flustered by her latest mistake.
And by the fact that this conversation with Iora was unfolding nothing like she had expected.
Arcanda had surely realized by now that Iora was no longer behaving according to the novel’s original storyline.
Hadn’t she once flown into a rage, accusing Iora of acting unlike the villainess and even staging incidents herself?
Arcanda was deeply obsessed with preserving the flow of <The Saint’s Flower>, the story in which she was the heroine.
That was why, in her growing anxiety, she had forced this meeting to happen today—even though, originally, it wasn’t supposed to take place until much later.
‘Now then, how should I play my part?’
A cool smile spread across Iora’s lips.
* * *
Lake had grown quite fond of his lord’s newly acquired fake girlfriend. Things had already been going well enough before, but ever since she came along, everything seemed to fall into place even more smoothly.
She’s a lucky charm. A real blessing!
“Tsk, tsk. There he goes again.”
Lake clicked his tongue like a woodpecker pecking out a lecture, drawing exasperated looks from the subordinates around him.
To be fair, Vigros was someone even his own allies found intimidating. Anyone who had witnessed that monstrous strength of his felt fear long before they ever felt admiration.
But Lake knew an even greater terror.
His lord had more money than anyone could reasonably spend, and the workload was absolutely hellish, but the pay was generous enough to make it all worthwhile.
The scariest thing in the world was ending up flat broke, without a single coin to your name. Compared to that, a foul-tempered lord like Vigros was nothing at all.
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