“Someone you have a very deep connection with… and with our young master, too.”
Roten muttered the words under his breath, shoulders sagging. I repeated them slowly in my head, then tilted my head.
“Pardon?”
“The only young master of House Kazliden, the family currently governing Proud…”
“Oh.”
So… I’m kind of doomed, huh?
Felix Kazliden.
There was no way I didn’t know that name.
“Life.”
It was supposed to be a hopeful evening.
I was absentmindedly poking at a piece of delicious meat with my fork, quietly contemplating my life choices. But no matter how I looked at it, I couldn’t find a satisfying answer.
“No way this is how we meet…”
I had expected, at most, to cross paths with him someday. I was technically positioned as the “first love” of the story’s hidden mastermind, and he was the ruler of Proud.
But I was supposed to avoid him.
If anything, I’d assumed I might glimpse him from a distance—never like this. Never this close.
“Amel.”
My grandfather, who had been silent until now, called out cautiously.
“What’s wrong with your face?”
“W-what do you mean?”
I flinched a little and asked back. He frowned, his expression sharpening.
“You look like you’re about to be laid in a coffin.”
“…A coffin. I might end up in one soon, actually.”
“What?”
The moment I said it, his face stiffened. Clack! He set down his knife and asked in a low, chilling voice,
“Who is it?”
“Pardon?”
Only then did I realize how that sounded. But my grandfather was already deep into his conclusion.
“Who is threatening to kill you?”
“…?”
Sorry, but why did the genre suddenly shift?
“W-what do you mean, assassination threat?”
“You just said you were going into a coffin! Who would put you in one alive? Don’t tell me those bastards are threatening you again!”
“No, it’s not that.”
“Ungrateful trash. What right do they have to mess with you? I should’ve properly cleaned up the streets months ago…”
“Sir, that’s not what I—”
“Damn it. If I’d known, I would’ve done a proper sweep myself…”
“….”
I think I’ve missed my chance to correct this.
So I quietly kept eating the pre-cut meat.
By the time I was halfway through my plate, my grandfather finally calmed down and picked up his knife again.
“Don’t worry. Who do you think I am? I’ll take care of those lowlifes myself.”
“Thank you…”
There had been a misunderstanding, but…
Still, they did deserve a bit of punishment.
For the sake of the bigger picture, I decided not to correct him.
I continued eating the perfectly cooked meat.
Then my grandfather, as if he’d reached a firm conclusion, spoke again.
“I’ll be going out tomorrow for a bit.”
It sounded like a declaration of war.
I had a feeling arguing would be pointless, so I just asked him not to cause a bloodbath and kept eating my vegetables.
‘…I should ask later if there’s a back entrance out of here.’
Even if I was changing the original story, Felix was still the final boss. Staying close to him was not good for my lifespan.
‘Right. If someone has to move, it should be me.’
Leaving here safely was already a luxury.
I shrugged and started planning tomorrow in my head.
The next day.
After eating the breakfast my grandfather prepared with great enthusiasm, I headed straight to Raymond.
“Lady Amelia!”
“Welcome!”
Roten was already waiting at the entrance and hurried over with a bright smile.
“Perfect timing. The workshop you mentioned yesterday has already been prepared.”
“So fast?”
Right, this was a business building. Of course everything would be ready.
Roten smiled confidently as I looked at him.
“There is nothing money cannot solve!”
“Oh!”
I clapped lightly.
So this was the power of capitalism.
There was a reason everything had been prepared in just a single day.
“Shall we head up right away?”
“Ah—before that, can we stop by the fourth floor?”
“The fourth floor? If you want desserts, I can have a servant bring them.”
“I’d like to see them in person.”
Because honestly, baked goods deserved to be admired properly.
Just imagining rows of pastries made me strangely happy. And the smell—oh, the smell alone was dangerous.
‘This is what true welfare feels like.’
You had to appreciate things like this before starting work, or the day wouldn’t go smoothly.
“Very well. Let’s go to the fourth floor first.”
Roten led the way, saying he had some time while Gilbert was in a meeting.
I followed closely behind, memorizing the route as we walked.
The moment I stepped into the fourth-floor corridor, the aroma hit me.
‘This smell is lethal.’
My stomach growled immediately.
‘My grandfather told me to eat in moderation, but…’
How was I supposed to resist this?
‘I’m eating it.’
No one here knew me except my grandfather. If I stayed quiet, no one would ever find out.
“Ah! Roten!”
As we entered the largest room, a warm-looking man greeted us with a wide smile. Roten bowed back politely.
“It’s been a while.”
“Why haven’t you visited lately? I even prepared your favorite egg tarts.”
“Haha, I’ve been busy with fieldwork lately.”
Roten then turned to me.
“This is Head Chef Vincent.”
“Oh! So this is the—!”
His eyes widened like a rabbit.
‘Huh? Does he know me?’
I lowered my head politely, thinking I should at least greet him properly—
“Hm?”
A familiar voice cut through the room.
“…?”
I glanced sideways.
The chef clapped his hands.
“Your Highness, the young duke! What brings you here?”
“Coffee and bread.”
A boy with blue hair lifted an empty mug, as if demanding service.
The chef nodded immediately.
“You really should call a servant next time. For you to come all the way yourself…”
“It’s fine. I just came out because it was noisy.”
Then his gaze shifted slowly.
And I could feel it—he was looking straight at me.
“…Ha.”
Of all places to meet.
I straightened my posture again.
Felix Kazliden.
With his striking violet eyes, he looked at me with a clearly displeased expression.
“Greetings, Your Highness. You came early. My grandfather is currently—”
“I know. He stormed into the meeting room.”
Right. So I was just waiting here quietly.
His voice was cold, almost cutting.
So this was the future villain.
Just standing there made the atmosphere feel heavier.
I swallowed hard and met his gaze.
‘But seriously… he’s really good-looking.’
A bit sharp, a bit cold—but “beautiful” suited him better than anything else. He looked like the textbook definition of a noble-born prince.
If the protagonist had a warm, sunshine-like presence, this guy was the opposite—cold, almost shadowed.
‘No wonder the fandom went crazy over him.’
People probably drew fan art and everything.
Now I understood why.
But none of that changed the fact that I needed to stay away from him.
“So why is she here?”
