Episode 62

【 The Summer Villa Conspiracy 】

“Is that so?”

To be honest, I didn’t know that until Raisha just confessed herself.

Could it be?

I suddenly felt certain that Raisha wasn’t just providing stories for articles but was actually writing them herself. She shyly admitted, “The articles about His Grace the Grand Duke in the gazette were written by me.”

“You mean the one with the portrait?”

“Yes. I didn’t include any personal feelings, though.”

I recalled the imperial gazette I had scrutinized to learn more about Chris. The illustration hadn’t done justice to his beauty at all.

For a brief moment, the vivid image of Chris looking directly at me flashed in my mind, but I quickly brushed it aside.

Thinking back, the articles about the Grand Duke, as Raisha claimed, neither praised nor criticized him. For a publication like the imperial gazette, known for its sharp tone toward figures deemed adversaries of the imperial family, the neutral stance was surprising.

So it was Raisha.

I looked into Raisha’s dark eyes, which sparkled as if catching some hidden light.

“I never imagined anyone would figure it out. Not even my parents know. You’re the first, Lady Mindia.”

“It was purely by chance on my part.”

“I don’t think so.”

Only because I knew the original story.

If Aria had the inevitable pull of a heroine, I had the advantage of being someone who had possessed this body.

As we walked, Raisha glanced around quickly and whispered, “Please, don’t tell anyone…”

“I won’t say a word.”

For a noble to write newspaper articles, especially a woman, was considered unbecoming and damaging to their dignity.

I nodded, understanding Raisha’s situation. She hesitated before adding softly, “And if people knew I was writing, they’d start pressuring me.”

“Pressuring you?”

“To avoid criticism and only write favorable stories.”

Raisha’s expression turned into one of exasperation, as though the idea alone was tiring.

I couldn’t help but smile.

I hadn’t expected her to be this kind of person.

Her reaction earlier to the mention of truth and justice hadn’t been without reason. I replied sincerely, “I’m sure you’ll continue to write great articles.”

“Thank you for your kind words.”

“Great. In return, would you mind refraining from writing overly negative articles about me or His Grace the Grand Duke? If possible, I’d prefer positive ones.”

“Oh, I wasn’t planning to,” Raisha replied, her cheeks slightly flushed, though it seemed the suggestion hit a nerve.

I found myself liking her. It seemed she didn’t find me too unpleasant either.

“It feels somewhat relieving, actually. Writing articles all alone and keeping them to myself was starting to wear me out.”

“I hope your next article brings good news.”

“Could it be about an engagement between you and His Grace the Grand Duke?”

Raisha’s journalistic instincts seemed to have surfaced immediately.

I felt a pang of unease, as if my secret engagement had been exposed.

“I won’t publish anything, I promise. But can’t you give me a little hint?”

“…That’s not something I can speak of without permission…”

“Oh.”

The mere thought of that engagement made my heart race, as though it was pounding in my fingertips.

Just as I was about to laugh off the conversation, someone called out.

“Catch this!”

“What? Wait!”

Splat!

Something spilled onto me. Raisha, who had been standing shielded by my body, gasped in horror.

“Lady Mindia!”

“Oh, there you are, my lady.”

“My apologies for the mishap.”

I looked down at the bright red drink staining the hem of my dress.

Unknowingly, our conversation had led us to the main hall, decorated like an indoor pool where water flowed freely.

Tipsy noble youths, dressed lightly for swimming, were splashing one another with alcohol.

How very noble-like.

I resisted the urge to voice my sarcasm as I looked at my now-soaked dress.

I wasn’t surprised, though. Even before my regression, such incidents were common for me. Something similar had nearly happened during a banquet.

The young men who had spilled the drink on me were looking at me with drunken, sly grins.

Followers of Aria, no doubt.

It wasn’t a difficult guess, given that these were the same men who fawned over Aria in the original story.

Thanks to the events of the previous debutante ball, I had already fallen out of favor with Aria’s followers. I was well aware that some had secretly celebrated when I fell from my horse during the hunting festival.

Raisha, however, was the one to react on my behalf.

“You should have been more careful!”

“Lady Raisha, we didn’t do it on purpose…”

A small scuffle broke out between Raisha and the young men.

“Step aside.”

A cold voice suddenly cut through the noise.

“…Your Highness.”

The Crown Prince, dressed lightly in short-sleeved attire for swimming, approached with a frosty expression. Aria and her friends stood some distance away, watching the scene with wide eyes.

The young men, who had been bickering with Raisha, quickly fell silent and stepped back.

The Crown Prince strode up to me and looked down at my ruined summer dress. The thin fabric, now soaked, had started to cling and slightly reveal the hem beneath.

“This is quite unfortunate.”

He ran a hand through his wet hair, his piercing gaze fixed on me. As his arm moved, the muscles along the inside of his arm tensed, and a strange heat seemed to emanate from him.

His wet attire, a casual uniform for swimming, clung to his skin, highlighting his physique and adding to that odd intensity.

“Oh my.”

“…How could this be?”

Several young ladies audibly swallowed, captivated by the sight. For me, however, the scene left no impression.

After all, if it was about this kind of beauty, Chris in the snowy northern landscape wouldn’t lose in comparison.

What foolish thoughts am I having?

While I silently scolded myself, the Crown Prince reached out to take a towel from someone nearby.

He then knelt gracefully and brought the towel to the hem of my soaked dress.

“Your Highness.”

I barely managed to suppress my shock. Audible gasps came from those around us. Even Raisha seemed caught off guard.

Quickly, I knelt to meet the Crown Prince’s eye level, attempting to prevent the scene from escalating further.

The Crown Prince’s blue eyes shimmered with the reflection of the water nearby.

“Why are you doing this, Your Highness?”

“Your dress is wet.”

“But there is no need for someone as noble as you to kneel before me.”

It was my polite way of telling him to stop overreacting.

The Crown Prince suddenly smiled, a smile others might find charming and irresistible.

“Are you worried about me?”

“Anyone here would feel the same.”

I spoke while placing my hand over the Crown Prince’s, gently pushing it away from the hem of my dress. His large, well-structured hand twitched slightly under mine.

“Lady Reinhardt.”

The Crown Prince’s gaze burned with an intensity as our eyes locked.

“Mindia, what happened to your dress…?”

Aria had approached from behind, her voice filled with concern.

“I’m fine, Aria.”

“But you don’t have many dresses, do you?” she said bluntly.

Her words were factual but inadvertently malicious. Behind her, several young ladies watching us exchanged glances, their expressions brimming with amusement.

It’s not like she meant any harm.

It was true—I hadn’t brought many dresses to the villa.

“You won’t have anything to wear now,” Aria said, her expression genuinely worried. One of the ladies in her group stepped forward and spoke.

“I heard Lady Aria lent you a dress during the banquet?”

“That’s right. Lady Mindia’s fall ruined both her dress and Lady Aria’s room.”

Another young lady chimed in, clearly supporting Aria’s version of events.

The speaker smirked subtly.

“Why not lend her another dress, then?”

“What a great idea!” Aria immediately agreed.

“…”

I glanced around. Unfortunately, Helena, the only one likely to lend me a dress, hadn’t yet arrived at the villa.

I had heard her older sister, the Viscountess of Steins, was busy preparing for her upcoming wedding, so it wasn’t surprising.

Still, borrowing another dress from Aria felt… uncomfortable.

“I’m really fine…”

I had barely started speaking when—

“Let’s go, Mindia!”

“Yes, Lady Mindia!”

Suddenly, Aria and the young ladies around her began ushering me toward Aria’s room.

Though they weren’t forceful, their actions felt like a calculated push, leaving no room for me to escape.

“Aria?”

“Come now. You need a fresh dress,” she said, her smile unwavering but her eyes holding an unyielding determination.

She was being so kind that refusing her outright would only make me seem like the rude one.

“You’re lucky to have someone offering to help you change out of those dirty clothes.”

“Indeed. Hurry along now.”

As I was herded away, I caught Raisha’s bewildered expression as she watched the scene unfold.

Some of the younger ladies who were close to Raisha whispered among themselves as they glanced at us.

The Crown Prince, who had been observing silently, furrowed his brows slightly as I was all but dragged off.

“Wait.”

“Your Highness, would you accept a toast from me?” one of Aria’s male followers interjected, attempting to distract him.

Ignoring the commotion behind me, I found myself alone, unceremoniously pushed into Aria’s room.

“Feel free to wear anything in the wardrobe!” Aria’s cheerful voice came from outside the door.

I glanced at the wardrobe and let out a bitter laugh.

Great.

The wardrobe was full of dresses, all designed to reveal shoulders, collarbones, or a daringly low back.

Aria, with her clear, flawless complexion, could pull off any of these effortlessly.

I looked down at my body, still hidden beneath my current dress, and laughed again.

There’s no malice in this, right?