“Rather than crawling into your bed to become your mistress, it would be cleaner to roll around with just anyone I meet in the central plaza of Ejon. You cheap wretch not even fit to be a courtesan.”
At those calm, cutting words, the servants flinched. The chief butler stepped forward, biting his lip hard.
“Young Duke, please mind your words……”
“You bastard.”
The ebony cane with a gold-plated head whipped around. Olivier pressed firmly against the servant’s chest as if stubbing out a cigarette and muttered coldly,
“Before a wretch like you points out my words, straighten up your master’s filthy conduct. Or else.”
The cane tapped the servant’s solar plexus.
“Saint. Nazaro. Mental hospital. Immediately. Throw him in there.”
The servant’s face flushed bright red, his shoulders trembling as he dropped his gaze.
* * *
A few steps from the last stair, Olivier’s legs finally gave out and he swayed. His hand, gripping the banister tightly, was slick with sweat.
“Monsieur?”
He could feel the valet at the entrance watching him carefully.
“Ah, I tripped.”
He quickly schooled his face into composure, pretending to smooth his clothes, and regained the perfect demeanor of the Young Duke, but his stomach began to churn as if he were about to vomit.
I’m really going crazy……!
Olivier took several deep breaths and walked all the way to the plaza without even taking his carriage. It was only after passing Gaeseon Plaza and reaching a park thick with greenery that he could finally face the reality before him.
I have to escape from Ejon right now!
* * *
Henri was utterly bewildered, for it was the first time he had seen Olivier d’Amfierre so pale.
He had always seemed detached from worldly affairs, sometimes even bored. A master who was ever unhurried in all matters. Henri had rarely seen him so agitated……
“Where on earth did you go to come back like this……”
The clothes he tore off and threw fell haphazardly to the floor. While the maids busily gathered the clothes, Olivier pressed Henri.
“Henri, I need to find a marriage partner. Right this instant.”
“Huh? Right now?” Henri’s face was overwhelmed with confusion.
“You burst in like that, and what is this all of a sudden?”
“Think quickly. The sooner, the better.”
Olivier let out a deep sigh and anxiously flipped open his cigar case.
Ah! Damn it! The case slipped from his hand and clattered to the floor. Olivier roughly gathered the cigars and buried himself in the sofa, his face scrunched up.
“I have to ruin my life as quickly as possible.”
“Whose what are you ruining?”
Henri blinked stupidly.
“My life, Olivier d’Amfierre’s honor. Olivier d’Amfierre’s reputation!”
“What……”
“Wait. Not the fortune, just the honor.”
Olivier, who had just put a dry cigar in his mouth, added again,
“I can’t fall forever—just enough to hide somewhere and then come back moderately……”
Henri stared blankly at his master babbling incoherently, and only then did Olivier add irritably,
“I met her. Mademoiselle R.”
“That woman?”
Henri’s eyes went wide.
“I thought she wasn’t an ordinary madwoman, but if you met her in person, then surely……”
“Shut up. Do you think something like that happened?”
Olivier snapped in disgust as if having a seizure, and Henri shrugged his shoulders.
“No. It’s not that I thought so. I just figured it wasn’t something Young Master’s temperament would let slide…… I wondered if you lost your temper and charged right in again……”
“Exactly. That’s why I have to run away.”
Olivier swept his hand through his hair and spat out irritably. Only then did Henri see the nape of his master’s neck drenched in sweat, and he shook his head.
“Who is Mademoiselle R that such cleanup is needed? To the point that d’Amfierre is so flustered……”
In that instant, Olivier suddenly clamped his mouth shut.
The weight of that silence felt so terrifying that Henri, who hadn’t even heard her identity yet, was seized by an indescribable fear.
“Why on earth are you…… ugh.”
Olivier sprang up and strode toward Henri. He yanked Henri close as if to devour his secretary and whispered something in his ear, and Henri’s eyes grew impossibly wide.
“We’re fucked……! Ah, no, I’m sorry, Young Master.”
As a shriek burst out, Olivier nodded his head.
“I have to run away. Her eyes had completely gone crazy. She was wearing nothing but a negligee with her whole body bare.”
Hoo…… Henri took several deep breaths as if his soul had left him. Olivier released the staggering Henri and sighed, pressing hard on his temples.
“I’m not joking, Henri. I have to be thoroughly buried in some gutter and stay away from Ejon.”
“Could it be that Young Master……”
Henri’s head throbbed at the thought of cleaning up this mess, just the same. Henri, who had been thinking of fleeing far away, barely composed himself looking at his master.
“Surely you didn’t say something to her?”
Olivier coughed and replied vaguely.
“Yeah. I probably did.”
“Have you gone mad…… forgive me, Young Master. What did you say?”
“A well-dressed beast…… cheap…… appetite-ruining…… filthy affair.”
“Wow.”
Henri’s face turned pale. Though he was his master, he was certainly a hopeless hothead.
“I also said it would be cleaner to roll around with anyone I meet in the central plaza of Ejon.”
Hu-eok……
Henri, who had been blinking his eyes as if he would faint at any moment, grabbed a wine bottle and drank straight from it. Inwardly, he was already cursing him out as a crazy bastard a hundred times over.
Henri wiped his mouth and asked gloomily.
“Young Master, this isn’t a dream, is it?”
“Unfortunately, no.”
The two, who had been engulfed in shock, began to compose themselves and discuss countermeasures.
“Now, listen carefully, Henri.”
“Yes, yes, Young Master.”
Henri quickly took out his notebook.
Olivier closed his eyes tightly, took a deep breath, and began to circle the room, snapping his fingers.
“A person to marry within the day from now.”
“If it’s marriage to Olivier d’Amfierre, we could contact several people right now and……”
“Someone who will definitely accept divorce papers in half a year, a year at most.”
“Ah, that’s a bit……”
“So Grandmother’s desired match is absolutely out. Exclude every woman who has ever had any marriage talks with me.”
“Then, there are far too few candidates……”
“She must have no ties to Ejon’s political circles. If we enter marriage talks, the period will drag on, Grandmother will intervene, and the Imperial family won’t accept it either.”
“Ejon political circles, excluded……”
“Filter out the economic side as well. Real estate, gold mine investments, railroads, steel—absolutely refused. Only a family completely unrelated to business will have a clean aftermath.”
“Ejon’s social world is swept up in a real estate and investment craze, Young Master. Families not involved in such matters are not without greed for money—they’re simply already ruined houses.”
“Stop making useless excuses and find one.”
But there really aren’t any…… Henri muttered and jotted it down anyway. ‘Economic, investment-related families, excluded.’
“I shouldn’t have to tell you that appearance matters to some degree. Still, she needs to be somewhat presentable, don’t you think?”
“How blunt, Young Master.”
He wants so much despite being in such a hurry…… Henri clicked his tongue.
“That’s because if I marry suddenly with no plausibility, it won’t do. Think realistically, Henri. It has to be convincing.”
Olivier’s finger pointed at his own handsome face.
Plausibility…… Well, indeed. With that face.
Henri nodded reluctantly.
“Then shall we choose from among actresses?”
“Theater, the arts world is out too. They’re close to the press, so rumors spread too fast. There’s no need to blab the reason for such a hasty marriage.”
“Theater, arts world excluded……”
Henri, who had been eliminating this and that, let out a long sigh. If they excluded even these, just who could possibly handle Olivier d’Amfierre?
But Olivier restlessly circled the room, pouring out words.
“Since we’ll clearly have to live together for six months, living habits are important too. She must be a clean woman, not overly lazy, must have an artistic sense, and I hate picky eaters too……”
Each time Olivier’s fingers folded down listing this or that condition, Henri’s pen busily moved faster and faster.
The conditions for a fake spouse of six months at least and one year at most were written out in such length they practically dragged on the ground, and then Olivier stopped dead in the middle of the room as if he could think of nothing more.
Then, like someone who had just remembered the most important thing, he suddenly turned to Henri with an “Ah!”
“There’s something most important, Henri. Someone who absolutely, absolutely does not use perfume. We might stay under the same roof even for a moment.”
“There’s no woman who meets all these conditions, Young Master. I’m afraid marriage seems impossible……”
Henri’s eyes, completely exhausted and empty, stared blankly at Olivier.
“This is more demanding than the previous conditions. What young lady among socialite debutantes doesn’t use perfume……”
“Henri, Henri. My life is on the line.”
“But where are we supposed to find someone within a day from now, and when would we even exchange marriage proposals? Rather, anyone at all, even tonight……”
“Henri.”
A look of displeasure immediately rose on Olivier’s face.
Right. That mysophobia. He knew it all too well. Henri’s shoulders slumped.
“If only you had met with someone earlier……”
Henri, who had been grumbling, looked up at his master with a strange feeling.
His master, who had been restlessly circling the room, was standing stock-still in front of the balcony.
Staring intently at something.
What on earth is he looking at? Henri craned his neck to follow his master’s gaze, but there was nothing special in that line of sight save for young-faced maids beating blankets on the roof of the mansion across the way.
“Henri, wait a moment.”
“Yes……?”
Seeing Olivier turn around with a bright face, Henri felt a chill run down his spine.
Has he gone mad from too much stress……?
“A good idea just came to me. It might be simpler to solve than I thought?”