Chapter 109.1 [Manwoojeol Extra]
Writer: thursdays Editor: Yahiko PR: LightBrin
1.
“I love you.”
It wasn’t proper for a noblewoman to say those words so openly, but Raviel felt it with all her heart. She loved the crown prince, noodle-hair and all.
Noodle hair? Why had she thought of that?
The blond locks on the prince’s head did share a peculiar resemblance to last night’s dinner.
Raviel shook her head and continued tightening the bonds around the crown prince. He, in return, mumbled something behind his gag. It may have been a scream. Raviel didn’t particularly care. Rather, it was almost cute.
“I love you so much, Your Highness, and it pains me to see you ruin yourself like this. I should never have helped you to ditch the palace tutors when we were children. I see now that it is up to me to correct my wrongs.”
She cleared her throat, and a gray-haired servant held up a board with words written on it.
[Lesson 1. Only a scumbag cheats on his fianceé.]
The board was nicely decorated at the borders with lilies. The lily leaves were choking a man’s neck.
The crown prince stopped mumbling as his eyes glazed over in fear.
“Don’t be an idiot. I’m not going to kill you.”
When Raviel sniffed disdainfully, she noted that the man had peed himself.
She sighed.
“Get him a change of pants,” she told the gray-haired servant. “Now I’ll have to start all over again.”
The gray-haired servant gracefully bowed and left the room.
In the meantime, Raviel set up the camera. She had been told that the camera was cutting-edge technology that could be used to preserve memories.
Blackmail was a good memory, was it not?
It only took two days after Raviel’s loving remedial lessons for the crown prince to act foolishly again.
Maybe she should have bashed in that noodle-like noggin of his to make spaghetti. Flavor was always important in a good dish, and red would suit him so well…
Raviel had been absent from school that day due to her illness. However, she was more than capable of arranging transport to the dormitories where the Lady of the Golden Silk resided.
She did have to catch up on her work, but she could spare half an hour for this.
When she stepped out of the carriage, it was nighttime. Most students were already in their beds, except the few strolling in the warm spring air.
Magnolias drifted in front of her, white and pure.
Crunch. She crushed them underfoot. This made their perfume even more fragrant.
Raviel made herself at home in the parlor of the residence hall. She waited for her guest to come out.
Five minutes later, the Lady of the Golden Silk and her gloomy-looking butler came bustling in.
The Lady of the Golden Silk’s makeup looked like it had been hastily done. Raviel covered her grin by opening her fan.
“What did you call me for?” asked the Lady of the Golden Silk.
Her tone of speaking was still too brash for a country chit. Her butler placed a gentle hand on her elbow, not that she was heeding his silent warning.
“I didn’t call you for anything,” said Raviel, amused. “I was just sitting, and you just arrived.”
The Lady of the Golden Silk opened her mouth like a goldfish before closing it again.
“Who else would you have come for?”
Who else indeed?
“Maybe I came to meet your butler,” Raviel joked.
She watched as the Lady of the Golden Silk turned furious eyes upon her servant and her butler stuttered denials, flushing.
Flushing?
Perhaps she could make use of that. She shelved the thought for later.
“I was kidding. April Fools, and all that,” Raviel said. “Anyway, I have a gift for you.”
She held out an envelope for the Lady of the Golden Silk to take. The butler grabbed it, and their gloved hands brushed against each other.
The butler suspiciously reddened again. He turned around and handed the envelope to his lady.
“Check it,” said the Lady of the Golden Silk.
No doubt that she suspected her of putting something nasty.
The butler obediently opened the envelope. His eyes turned wide and round.
“U-uh… Um… This is…?”
“A moment of the crown prince when he was vulnerable,” said Raviel. “I thought you might enjoy it, since you are ever so close to him.”
Swiik. The Lady of the Golden Silk’s hand swiped away the photograph so quickly that Raviel nearly missed it.
“Th-th-that’s…”
Raviel had taken some liberties with the prince as he was in his remedial lessons. The results were unsuitable to be in any record, print or photograph.
“……”
The barony’s lady’s face turned red, then green. Perhaps she should have been called the Lady of the Copper Silk.
Mission complete, Raviel left the dormitory without another word to the idiot duo.
She was satisfied with her work for today. What was left of her heart was still breaking after the prince had gone on another date with the Lady of the Golden Silk, but at least she could drag him down with her.
If he was dumped… If his heart broke, and she was there to help him… Would his eyes turn kind again? Would he smile at her like he used to do, once upon a time?
She didn’t need him to love her back, necessarily.
Even friendship—no, a lack of enmity—would be enough.
The magnolia petals that fell from the branches looked lonely and lost.
But this moment was not her trauma.
2.
Why did time pass by so slowly?
Raviel had been waiting for Gongja to regress for six days since the last time. There was a version of him running around, and she was rather fond of him, but he wasn’t the same as her lover.
Raviel’s work was done nearly on autopilot now. She had done this time loop for so long that she didn’t need to focus as she signed papers, arranged for the prince’s assassins to be taken out, and made sure that the economy didn’t implode because of a poorly received tariff.
Gongja 3 (her nickname for the current version of the butler) squirmed on her lap.
“Can I move now, milady? I really don’t think this is appropriate…”
“Nonsense. You’re my exclusive butler, are you not? This is what butlers do in this world.”
Gongja 3’s eyes showed that he knew she was bullsh*tting him, but he wasn’t certain enough to call her out on it.
Raviel ruffled Gongja 3’s hair. It was nearly imperceptible, but he leaned into her touch. Maybe quiet days like this weren’t so bad, though she still eagerly awaited Gongja Prime.
“I’m going to miss you when you’re gone.”
Gongja 3 stiffened on her lap. Slowly, his head turned toward her.
“Do you… intend to kill me?”
What was it with her love interests thinking that she would kill them?
“No, butler. Don’t take things so seriously. I won’t ever kill you.”
This statement didn’t hurt her until much afterward, when she was staring into her beloved’s dead face, a sword in her hands. Thus, it did not become her trauma.
3.
“Gongja, please… Say syke…”
Tears flowed from Raviel’s eyes as she held the body of her dead lover.
“You liar.”
She continued in that position. She felt the last of his body heat escape from her arms. Raviel closed his eyes, wishing him a quick regression.
She did not draw her blade from his chest. She wasn’t sure that she ever wanted to hold that particular rapier ever again.
It was a long time later, what felt like an eternity to her, when she stood up.
Raviel must have been dizzy from crying so much. Her vision blurred, and she walked right into a wall.
“Motherfu—”
Painful and humiliating as it might have been, this moment was not her trauma, either.
4.
“Raviel Ivansia,” said the Lady of the Golden Silk. “I love you.”
The Lady of the Silver Lily’s mortal enemy winked, bounced her ample bosoms, and blew a kiss at Raviel.
Raviel woke up screaming, but this did not become her trauma.
5.
“Ganja, please… Say syke…”
Unfortunately, Raviel’s hemp plant did not respond. Tears flowed from Raviel’s eyes as she held the pot of her beloved, unquestionably dead pot.
Had she overwatered it? Was she not a good enough farmer?
This was the problem with education these days. They focused too much on economics, history, politics, court manners, literacy, swordsmanship, and the running of an estate rather than on the important things in life.
Like cultivation.
This plant was one of the few medicines that could help her chronic pain, and now, she would have to find alternatives.
This moment became very close to being Raviel’s trauma.
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