Chapter 15 –
Ophelia glanced at Haidar’s face, which was clearly tinged with defeat, then turned her gaze away.
Haidar had a hot temper. It would be best to stop pressuring him at this point. Besides, he didn’t seem like he’d go so far as to shove another invitation at her in this situation anyway.
Surely, he had at least enough self-control not to show his temper in front of her.
Ophelia decided to wrap things up.
“…I’ll overlook this rudeness just this once. But next time, be more—”
“A bastard like you really thinks she can’t settle for anyone less than the Grand Duke of Ronen now, huh?”
And that was the reply she got.
Ophelia sighed inwardly.
I went and expected too much from a person again.
It wasn’t hard to guess how Haidar had learned of the rumors involving Ian.
No matter how fast rumors spread, there was no way news from the capital could’ve reached such an isolated place in just a few days.
‘He must’ve looked into it himself.’
The reason was obvious even without asking. It was a power play. A warning.
Ophelia took a step back. She had no intention of confronting Haidar’s large frame up close.
She hadn’t expected him to act this brutishly, but what use was regretting past misjudgments now?
As Haidar closed the distance she had just put between them in a single step, he let out a sneer like a growling beast.
“They say you stole your sister’s man, Your Highness. Got greedy for noble blood, did you, bastard girl?”
“Well. One thing’s certain—I have no interest in men who aren’t even noble enough to begin with.”
The moment those words left her mouth, she staggered. Only afterward did she realize she’d been slapped. The metallic taste in her mouth hinted that the inside of her cheek had split.
He hit me just because I offended him slightly?
Is he brain-damaged?
“You got what you deserved, flapping that tongue in front of me when all you’ve got is that filthy half-blood.”
Ah, come to think of it, maybe the one with the real hole in the head wasn’t him—it was me and my situation.
A position with no backing, no strength to take down a man twice her size.
As Haidar closed in with a mocking smirk, Ophelia steadied herself against the desk behind her.
Apparently, hitting her had given Haidar a sense of victory. His large frame loomed as he glared down and growled.
“Being treated like a princess made you think everyone was beneath you, didn’t it? Know your place. Do you really think anyone would care if something happened to you here?”
He grabbed her shoulder roughly, chuckling viciously.
“All that nonsense about being an inspector—everyone knows your father’s trying to sell you off to me. Hah! I was even willing to go easy on you since you’ve got a decent face. And yet you act all high and mighty?”
“…I’ve heard that a lot—that I don’t know my place.”
In contrast, Ophelia remained calm.
She had dealt with men like him countless times—men who, despite their mediocre skills and small worlds, strutted around as if they ruled it all.
They were always quick to ignite at the slightest bruising of pride and never failed to show their pettiness even while stomping others down.
He must’ve thought poking at her weaknesses would make her explode with rage or fall into despair, just like he would have.
But she had lived her whole life with those “holes,” so what effect could it possibly have now?
The phrase “know your place” had followed her like a shadow the entire time she lived in Ronen.
Haidar had picked the wrong opponent.
He should’ve thought about how many like him she’d already faced.
How she had endured all this time without any power or backing.
But then again, if he’d had the brains to think like that, this situation wouldn’t have happened in the first place.
She didn’t know her place?
“Haidar Ladin. It’s you who doesn’t understand the situation.”
So proud of himself for just one slap, was he?
“Haidar Ladin. You don’t understand the situation.”
Ophelia raised her elbow and struck the crook of Haidar’s arm with all her strength.
“Argh!”
His arm buckled weakly, the hand gripping her shoulder instinctively letting go.
She didn’t miss the chance.
She reached out for something she had spotted earlier.
A quill pen, still wet with ink.
She hadn’t wanted to use this opportunity so soon…
“You damn bitch!”
“Watch your back, you piece of trash.”
“What—?”
CRASH!
The window spanning the wall shattered into pieces as something large burst through it, slamming directly into Haidar and sending him flying.
That something, which had just charged into Haidar from outside, had caused all the chaos.
Ophelia had intended to create such an opening, but when she recognized what the “large thing” was, she let out a surprised, breathless laugh.
“I heard Asello’s feather was broken, so I thought I’d drop by.”
The “large thing” that had slammed Haidar into the wall now stood up, brushing off glass shards.
He had just flown through a window, and yet his body was flawless—without a scratch.
I didn’t think I’d see him again this soon.
Golden hair that shimmered in the light, and green eyes with vertical pupils like those of a raptor.
His body, nearly bare except for a large cloak.
Staring at the nearly naked man, Ophelia said his name.
“Hello, Sante.”
The moment his name was called, Sante realized this woman was the very human the others had spoken of.
Last night, the most troublesome of his Siren brothers had made a commotion as they came searching for him.
—Sante, that woman lit up the whole ocean! I’ve never seen the lapels shine so bright!
—So we each gave her one of our feathers. She said she’ll bring land food next time!
The younger the Sirens were, the more mischievous and cruel.
Considering many recent shipwrecks had been caused by those brothers, their sudden obsession with a human woman was certainly odd.
Of course, when four of those noisy brats showed up babbling at once, Sante had considered tossing them all into the seabed just to shut them up.
Still, as their leader, he had shown mercy and listened until they collapsed from exhaustion—and that turned out to be the right move.
—Oh right, Sante. She said to bring you to her.
Only after all the noise had died down did anything useful finally emerge.
—Explain that again, Asello. A human woman asked to see me?
—Yeah. Do you know her?
—What does she look like?
—Red hair, like the sunrise. Eyes blue as the equatorial sea. Pale and thin.
Pale? That usually meant a noblewoman. Had he met someone like that before?
Asello’s explanation was vague, but not incomprehensible.
After combing through his memory, Sante concluded it must’ve been someone unremarkable.
If they’d been close or important, she would’ve already had one of his feathers. Since she’d had to ask the children to fetch him, they must’ve parted after a brief encounter.
It wasn’t rare for humans enchanted by Sirens to remain unable to forget them afterward. So Sante had initially dismissed the matter.
—Doesn’t seem like anyone important. I already gave her a feather, so leave me out of it. It’s not a big deal.
—But Sante, she specifically said you.
—Yeah, and I just said don’t involve me, so where’s that part of the conversation gone?
—No, Sante. She said your name. She said “Sante.”
Only then did he understand.
She hadn’t said “bring the Siren leader” or “your chief.”
She had said “Sante.”
Sante swept back his tousled hair with one hand.
The strands briefly lifted from his smooth forehead before falling back into place.
His narrowed eyes slowly scanned the red-haired human woman.
It didn’t take long.
Once done assessing her, Sante’s red lips curled as a deep, decadent, and magnetic voice flowed out lazily.
“Well now… this is interesting.”
