<25>

It was something I could just let slide, even with such a disgusting postscript.

“Taylor, where are you going?”

The man asked. Taylor turned his eyes towards the guild member who had just been promoted and muttered softly.

“To Mel.”

“What?”

“I’m going to meet the client before I see the Master. That damn stepfather is considerate at times like this.”

Yes, at least their Master knew how to reward properly. Taylor decided to be content for now.

The man looked at him and shut his mouth. Under his white hair, his eyes, visible on his smiling face, were darkened with emotions beyond simple joy of reunion, but he still looked happier than anyone else.

* * *

I froze with my mouth open at the news of the prison break that came one after another.

It’s funny. Just because I didn’t come to see them…

“So….”

No. I bit my lip. Margaret Colin Eilish, you’re just a supporting character.

…Just a supporting character? Really?

The method Carlix and Taylor chose was more than enough to confirm their obsession. Rather, it felt too real. It was too much to be just affection poured onto a supporting character.

I had to admit. I had more room to maneuver than the original protagonist, Beatrice Mary Rosen, who had already reached the end. More people wanted me than her. Their personality settings hadn’t changed, but the target had definitely changed.

“I am.”

So now am I the villain? Such meaningless worries filled the silence with a bit of fatigue. Outside, there were talks about a prison guard at Sinalore Alcatraz committing suicide. It was also mentioned that the sword in his hand was custom-made, raising suspicions of bribery.

It was the first time I really felt the actions of those described as simply crazy obsessive men in the novel. Florencia Jay Eilish had never caused a scene in front of me, so it wasn’t unreasonable.

The sword wasn’t given to kill others. I scratched my head.

“…Being a villain.”

The whispers of the soldiers and maids weren’t loud, but they were constantly heard from various places, hurting my ears. Beatrice, true to her role as the original protagonist, tried to keep the servants’ mouths shut, but of course, that wasn’t easy.

Crown Prince Damon Ed O’Brien was originally a cruel person. Of course, given that he was born a royal and had a succession issue, some degree of cruelty was acceptable, but he also had a villainous side. I tried to predict how he would punish those involved in this incident.

History is written from the victor’s perspective. The Crown Prince mercilessly dealt with the guards who had failed in their duties. There was no need for me to predict anything further. Rather, it seemed that Kestiel Reload was going to suffer. The fact that a person named Clark was subjected to nearly torturous interrogation before his death was not surprising.

All of this was romanticized as the price of failing to protect Beatrice in an instant.

Of course, only for Beatrice herself.

“…How cruel…”

“Scary… Then… My lady…”

“Maybe us too…”

The whispers that occasionally reached my ears were from the maids. I sat on the bed, quietly listening to their approaching footsteps. They were slowly stirring up trouble within the happy ending.

“-Shh.”

The whispering stopped at the door with one of them giving a warning.

After delivering the letters to me, they quickly left. I heard that Sir Hyzen was raising his voice, criticizing the Crown Prince for censoring all the letters that came to me out of anger.

Afterwards, the voices suspecting Beatrice and the Crown Prince repeated again, like an echo.

I clicked my tongue and read the letters that had come to me. As I said, the Crown Prince rigorously monitored every letter that came to me, so it was quite surprising to find a letter from Glacies at the very bottom.

I looked around a few times and then smiled coldly. If this was indeed a considerate gesture for me, then Kestiel Reload was undoubtedly a very considerate, devoted character.

Admiring the delicacy of returning the censored letter, I recalled his overall assessment of Beatrice.

A woman like the Pope. Noble above all, but can do nothing without her followers.

His personality, which the world disparaged, was as rude as the rumors. I remembered the time I burst into laughter at his rude remarks.

‘He seems worse than the rumors.’

‘He’s a guy who used to swing a wooden stick on the streets. His nature wouldn’t change.’

‘Ah, true.’

‘Aren’t you going to refute that?’

He told me that after returning with Beatrice, he had gradually started to distance himself from her.

Yet, he stayed close to convey matters related to Florencia, which clearly showed that his pure affection was twisted.

‘He was quite upset when I advised him to let your love with the Crown Prince flourish.’

‘Of course, considering the loyalty you’ve shown so far.’

‘…A stray dog with its leash removed lives freely according to its values. That can’t be called betrayal.’

I felt a bit of interest in his words, spoken with a complicated expression.

“Well, it was quite an answer.”

The hand rummaging through the stationery paused with that self-mutter.

From the unexpectedly thick, torn envelope, two letters emerged. One was a status update on a commission from someone called Master, and the sender of the other was…

“Fernand.”

Carlix Fernand de Hamel.

The former Grand Duke.

* * *

 

「Margaret Colin Eilish,

You are cold. I don’t need medicine. I believe you already understand my feelings to some extent, but you can’t just ignore me if I have something to say about your sister… Because you’re Margaret.」

There was no embellishment in the letter. I felt hollow, so much so that the tension I had was rendered meaningless, and I muttered to myself.

“This crazy Grand Duke…”

At the end of the sentence, his middle name was written in cursive – and quite elegantly, too. I stared at the signature before folding the letter in half.

“My sister, huh.”

And then in half again. As I turned my head, I saw a newspaper article labeled with the nickname “Terrorist of Sinalore.” I burned the folded letter in the candlelight shining on the table.

“…A textbook villain, indeed.”

He could have just said he wanted to see me. I muttered with a faint smile. Rather than the excitement of a young girl, a sad smirk lingered like a mist on my curved lips.

I can visit Glacies anytime. Although he doesn’t have much patience, he has enough character to understand the situation. With that level of blind devotion, he would show some degree of patience.

A slight delay won’t cause any big problems. I muttered nonchalantly. It was a while later when I realized that this really was a complacent attitude.

Well, anyway. I opened the official guild document that was in the envelope. The neatly lined sentences showed the effort made to appear sincere in serving the client.

「We have sent reliable collectors simultaneously upon confirming the commission request. A guild member will provide detailed guidance before departure, so please refer to this. If there is any unavoidable delay in information delivery, please use your seal to inform us. The amount will be charged from the bank vault under the client’s name.

The list of scheduled collectors, their order, and the amount are as follows:

– Omitted –

– We wish you a comfortable night. Cartel Knight.」

Cartel is the name of the guild master. After confirming the letter, I twisted my lips.

If the Crown Prince gets angry, there are two things he could do. Advance Florencia’s execution date or try to kill me directly. So, I had to take definite measures beforehand.

It worked out well.

“…I’m becoming more like my sister. What should I do?”

I muttered to myself, thinking of Florencia. I had memorized all the letters, and since the commission documents could be retrieved as copies, they were no longer needed, so I intended to burn that paper as well.

To be precise, I tried to.

“Ah, burned…!”

My hand, brought close to the flame in a daze, trembled from the sudden heat.

“I must be crazy.”

How much had I lost my mind? I narrowed my eyes and set the paper on fire. This time, I didn’t get burned.

‘What a pathetic thing to do.’

The crackling sound of the burning paper didn’t last long. Instead, a small knock filled the silence. I was about to open the terrace door, thinking of complaining about the delay in sending the attendant from the guild, but I froze in that motion.

I had no choice.

“Mel.”

I saw eyes swallowed by emotions, unfocused. He smiled innocently, shyly tousling his spiderweb-like white hair a few times.

“Here to guide you on the commission.”

Taylor said. His cheeks, reflected in the still-lit room’s light, were faintly flushed pink.

I had to stand still, unable to realize my body was being embraced by the man. A ticklish, nameless sensation spread throughout my body.

“I missed you so much I could die.”

He buried his head in my shoulder and whispered happily.

Taylor couldn’t control his strength properly. I was bewildered and ended up tapping his back, struggling to call his name as I gasped for air.

“Taylor. Can’t breathe.”

“…”

It wasn’t a big movement. If it were any other romantic male lead, he would have been startled and apologized, but unfortunately, that didn’t seem to apply to Taylor Knight.

“Just a little longer.”

His happy voice sounded muffled, as if it was softened by his characteristic drowsiness. I felt like I had turned into the white pillow he often hugged.

“Let go.”

I sighed and repeated. He shook his head, still buried in my shoulder, and stubbornly mumbled something.

“I didn’t think you’d welcome me.”

“…”

“But you can’t send me away again, Mel.”

“I can’t breathe.”

“You can’t leave. You can’t go back…”

Because there will be no ending that you spoke of.

Taylor added, and it felt like something struck the back of my head.

What did he just say?

‘…Ending?’

Yes, he definitely whispered that. I twisted my body in shock, trying to break free from his embrace. Taylor ground his teeth and lifted his head, pretending not to know anything as he smiled.

“Still, it’s good to see your face. I missed you.”

Ending. That was not a word that should come from someone unaware they were a character in a novel. I slowly rolled my crimson eyes. My body, still held tightly, protested the discomfort, but that wasn’t the main issue now.

Oh, no way.

I ground my teeth. Whether he had feelings for me or not, I could dismiss it as a distortion within the book. A character within the text was a being within my knowledge, not impossible to utilize or escape from. I had the option to return, and I had no obligation to reciprocate the feelings of the Grand Duke or any other male leads.

They didn’t harm their own. If that assurance became a fact, I could pretend to accept it and use it to my advantage.

But if this smart assassin, fully aware of his existence, deliberately tried to keep me here, not for emotions but simply because he wanted me to stay. Then…

‘You…’

Could it be?

“Did you meet Sir Reload?”