Chapter 28
Herace ran a hand through his hair as he straightened up to face me. Just from lying down for a bit, his hair was mussed, strands falling freely.
“You just told me you’re good at handling unexpected situations now. But if you freeze up and can’t say a word—how am I supposed to believe that?”
He grinned playfully.
I forced my mind, still blank from panic, to refocus and opened my mouth.
“Th-th—”
Me, stuttering? That shocked me so much I had to pause, take a deep breath, and press a hand to my chest.
“So… yeah. You’re right.”
He wasn’t wrong. I hadn’t handled the moment well at all.
“I think,” Herace continued, eyes glinting, “we should practice more as a couple before the party. What does my girlfriend think?”
Before the Saintess’s first Prophecy Day, we’d be attending a grand party together. That would be our stage to appear as partners, planting the idea of us in society’s eyes. Then, after Prophecy Day, we’d aim for the perfect moment to reveal our relationship.
Costumes, scenarios, dramatic twists—the things that would keep people talking—we had so much to plan.
And in that moment, I realized something important.
Herace might spring shocking surprises on me out of nowhere, but as my partner, he had never once made a mistake.
Suddenly, I felt the urge to be just as perfect. The words slipped out of me before I could stop them.
“You can kiss me.”
“…Huh?”
Herace blinked, a small sound escaping him. He looked away, tilting his head.
Strange. Wasn’t he the one who’d wanted me to get used to physical affection?
“That’s nonsense—”
“It’s not nonsense. I’m saying you can kiss me, Herace. Let’s kiss. Right now.”
“What in the world…”
His whole body went stiff, proving I hadn’t imagined his hesitation earlier. I boldly raised my hand toward him.
“We’ve already held hands. You’ve kissed the back of my hand too. I’m fine with holding hands now, but I still can’t quite get used to kisses on the hand.”
I nodded firmly, eyes shining with determination.
“So start there. Kiss my hand again until it feels natural. Once we’re past that, we move on to the next step. Like you said—we don’t have much time left.”
I didn’t just sit and wait. I grabbed his soft, warm hand myself, giving a little shrug.
“Or should I go first?”
At last, Herace’s lips curved in a faint smile. He took my hand, lifted it, and pressed his lips lightly against the back.
It wasn’t unpleasant. But my stomach knotted tight all the same.
I thought, with sudden relief, that it was a good thing he hadn’t jumped straight to a real kiss.
A few days before the party, I received a letter from Whisler.
As expected, it was full of flowery sentences about how foolish I was, with long, “kind” explanations of all the terrible things Herace must have done to me. Things he hadn’t done at all.
Does Whisler have too much time on his hands?
It didn’t matter much. He wasn’t important anymore. Still, his persistence was so absurd it stirred a flicker of curiosity.
Ah. He must be trying to win me back just because Herace wants me now.
Pure jealousy. The old saying was true—someone else’s cake always looks bigger.
“Well, until then, I’ll use him however I can.”
I muttered to myself and turned to the next page: the notes I’d written from my recent conversations with Herace.
“Dress: red. Ideally similar to the masquerade gown, but with a richer, more elegant design.”
I skimmed through the long descriptions, replaying them in my head.
At first, I hadn’t understood why. Even if I wore something like the dress from that night, almost no one would connect it back to me. Honestly, I still didn’t know how Herace had figured me out back then.
To me, dressing like that again had no real benefit. So I’d asked why. His answer had been simple—it was for his fun.
So I gave up arguing. I’d wear the red dress.
Next came the matter of an antagonist for our romance. Of course, Herace didn’t disappoint.
“There will always be someone to play that role. And if not, we’ll make one.”
If it had been anyone else, I might have doubted them. But it was Herace. I let the worry go and focused only on preparations.
Once we finalized the script for the party, everything would be set.
Days passed. I’d sent him letters to review the plan, but strangely, no reply came.
“…Why is he silent?”
Usually, even if he was planning some outrageous surprise, he’d send at least a short note.
“…Maybe it just didn’t reach him.”
It wasn’t impossible. His villa was secluded, and the forest around it was like a maze. Messages had gone astray before. And since everything had to be sent in secret, delays were nothing new.
The party was tomorrow. At this point, I’d just have to move forward without confirmation.
“…It can’t be helped.”
Accepting reality, I tidied up and went to bed.
Oddly enough, I found it easier to accept changes now than before.
Of course—it made sense. I’d been practicing. Growing. And most of all, I had Herace by my side.
With teamwork this solid, success was inevitable. That was the confidence of someone who had survived freeloaders at university and endured years at a black company.
“Tomorrow will be busy.”
Tomorrow, when nobles’ curiosity about me was at its peak, I had to win their favor as well.
And beyond that—I had other plans too. Because this was still a novel, and I was someone who had read it before I fell into it.
***
“How do I look?”
“Unlike plain old me—you look perfect, my lady.”
Clara’s eyes sparkled as she gazed at me in awe. She pressed a hand over her trembling lips.
“My lady… you’ve evolved from a sloth to a koala, s-sniff—!”
“A cute koala, right?”
“Yes. A very cute koala.”
“…Are you crying?”
When I stepped closer, she lifted her head with a completely calm expression, as if nothing had happened.
“No. Just got some water in my eyes. Did it look like tears?”
“Mm, I thought it was.”
She wiped at her eyes with her sleeve, muttering:
“Good! That means it was convincing. I was testing how realistic it looked.”
“Interesting. Keep testing things like that—it might come in handy for me later.”
After a final check, I left the mansion.
As I walked down the hall, I noticed the servants staring wide-eyed, unsure what to do with themselves. Some gasped in awe, others let out startled sounds.
So, Herace must be here.
It made me wonder—was I like that too, the first time he surprised me?
No. Not anymore.
Now I knew him better than any of them. And with that thought, pride welled up inside me.
The moment I stepped outside, I saw him.
The sunset blazed behind Herace, like a painting splashed across the sky. He stood waiting in a refined gray jacket, the glow framing him like a halo.
“You’re here, Philena?”
The wind caught his hair, sending the golden strands dancing. With the air of someone both free and tender, he reached his hand out to me.
“I’ve always been waiting for this. Even if it’s just for a fleeting moment—I wanted you to come to me.”
