FPML 54

Chapter 54

At that moment, a single question filled Marienne’s mind.

‘Did the Empire’s Flower Contest ever have a swimsuit round?’

Normally, the answer would be no.

From what she had overheard earlier in the conference room, being chosen as the “Flower of the Empire” was a far greater honor than she had imagined.

First, the top three winners would ride in lavishly decorated open carriages and parade through the capital.

A marching band and a troupe of performers would follow before and after the carriages, making the beauties shine even more.

At the end of the parade, a royal chamberlain and the mayor of the capital awaited them.

Amid everyone’s congratulations, the three beauties would receive handsome prize money and follow the chamberlain to the Imperial Palace.

There, they would be granted an audience with the Emperor, treated as honored guests, and later invited to the Imperial Ball held in autumn.

Even a noble of low birth couldn’t dream of such privileges — but being chosen as the Empire’s Flower made them possible.

Because of this, not only commoners but also many young noblewomen participated in the contest.

‘This world doesn’t even have swimsuits. A swimsuit competition would be unthinkable. For them, that would be the same as walking on stage in see-through nightwear.’

But this time, it wasn’t a beauty contest — it was a handsome man contest. And if the contestants were men… perhaps they could be made to show a bit more.

Maybe not full swimsuits — but a shirtless round might not be too much to ask.

Surely that would contribute to world peace. At least a little. Especially if it could ease the worries and fatigue of her fellow women.

‘…Pull yourself together, Marienne Didi.’

Marienne shook her head, chasing away the image of Vaileon in those ridiculously tight leather pants that clung like a second skin.

“Are you against it?”

Vaileon asked.

“I’m one of the judges, remember? And I’m also seeing you. If Lord Beers joins the contest, it’ll compromise the fairness of the judging.”

“That’s your official reason?”

“That’s the public reason,” Marienne replied primly.

Vaileon’s faint smile dipped a little — perhaps disappointed by how rational her answer was. He then asked her to tell him the unofficial reason.

“I can’t let other people see Lord Beers’ body wet.”

“…Why not?”

“Do you really have to ask? Even dry, your body is already dangerous enough. Add water to that equation, and we’ll have chaos. Just imagining every woman in the Empire staring at you with glazed eyes—”

“—makes you angry?”

“Of course!”

Marienne stomped her foot mid-stride.

“I don’t care if any other handsome man strips or stands on his hands or strips while standing on his hands—”

“That’s… excessive,” Vaileon murmured softly.

“—but you can’t. You’ll stay right where you belong, buttoned up to the neck and sitting nicely in the Chancellery.”

“You’re more conservative than I thought, Marienne,” he teased.

Vaileon’s tone was gentle, but his eyes gleamed with amusement.

“Even though the audience is made up of people you’ll never meet?”

“Yes! And why do you keep asking? Do you want to strip in public?”

Vaileon laughed.

“It’s just… this is the first time I’ve seen you jealous.”

Marienne’s face flushed scarlet.

Jealous? Of all words, that one? Couldn’t he use something with a bit more dignity, like possessiveness?

She wasn’t some clingy royal concubine to be described with a word like jealous.

And hearing it from Vaileon’s lips made it worse.

“I’m not jealous.”

“No?”

“No. I’m just… worried the other contestants will lose their confidence the moment you appear. And I prefer your neatly dressed self, that’s all. So there are many logical reasons for my stance.”

“Mm, understood.”

Vaileon was still smiling when he spoke next.

“When I was jealous, my chest ached. But when it’s you, it’s different. I can’t stop smiling — you’re too adorable.”

“There it is again! That word!”

“Sorry, sorry.”

Vaileon raised both hands in mock surrender. To any bystander, they might have seemed overly serious about a trivial matter. Perhaps it was only Marienne who looked flustered — Vaileon looked positively delighted.

“But Marienne,” he said in a soft tone, “how do you know my dry body looks ‘amazing’?”

“That’s because that time in your office, your shirt—”

Marienne suddenly broke into a coughing fit.

There was no way she could admit she’d peeked through a partition hole.

Vaileon rubbed her back gently, asking if she was all right.

“Ahem, I’m fine,” she managed.

“Even when you’re dressed, it’s… obvious,” she added hastily. “Your clothes fit closely enough to show your build.”

“Do I wear my clothes too tight?”

“N-no! There’s no need to wear them bigger! The fit is perfect now.”

She couldn’t risk him hiding that physique — her eyes had rights too.

Thankfully, Vaileon let the matter drop.

“Do you like that I’m letting you be possessive?” he asked.

“Do you?”

“Honestly?”

His voice dropped, low and rich.

“I’d be happy even if you chained my ankle with a shackle.”

A shackle?

Marienne blinked at the man who looked like a radiant summer morning made flesh.

“…You have some very hard-core tastes.”

He wasn’t acting like a nobleman — more like someone longing to be a willing captive. Marienne couldn’t take her eyes off his bright, laughing face.

Yes, this treasure should be wrapped tightly under my skirt and hidden away.

The others could have their shirtless contestants — she’d keep her own prize fully clothed.

◆ ◇ ◆

The ruler of the vast northern lands — the Duke of Blackwood.

A man whose strength rivaled the heroes of legend.

That people feared Cain Blackwood and bowed before him was only natural.

And Cain had always been the kind of man who had to possess whatever he desired.

At some point, he had come to want the pink-haired lunatic from the Chancellery — Marienne Didi.

“At first, it was pure annoyance.”

The reckless little rabbit who acted without fear or restraint infuriated him. She was unlike any person he’d ever met.

Plenty had tried to provoke the Iron Duke before, hoping the flawless, arrogant noble would slip and fall.

Their motives differed, but the intent was always the same — just as his late father, the former Duke, had once warned him: “You’ll hear this often.”

And yet, Marienne’s reason had been so absurd it stunned him.

“Because you’re an unlucky black-haired man.”

‘What does that even mean?’

She had even said, with disgust:

“A cold-hearted, black-haired duke from the North — how irritating!”

‘You hate me for that? Really?’

She must have had no sense of self-preservation. At first, he had dismissed her as a lunatic buzzing around him.

But then he started to wonder why.

Why she acted that way.

Marienne was terrible at hiding her feelings, so it didn’t take long for Cain to realize the truth.

She did it — all of it — for Vaileon Beers.

More precisely, for Vaileon’s hopeless love for the Fourth Princess.

The foolish rabbit had apparently believed that if she kept drawing the princess’s attention toward Cain, the princess would finally turn to Vaileon.

But strangely enough, that foolish sincerity stirred something in him.

‘What does he have that I don’t?’

Why was Marienne Didi so devoted to a man like Vaileon Beers?

What did it feel like to be the one who received such blind support and affection?

How had she discovered the secret about his hair — and why hadn’t she sold that information to anyone?

She hadn’t even told Vaileon, the man she idolized.

‘You irritate me. And you intrigue me.’

At the same time, he wanted to break her pride — to make her admit that though she once adored the gentle Vaileon Beers, she had ended up falling for the arrogant, ruthless Duke of the North instead.

He wanted to see her flushed, furious face as she confessed it.

Just imagining that moment thrilled him.

‘I’ll bring her to my estate. If I can find something to blackmail her with, I’ll make her obey. Once she’s there, I’ll train her in my own way.’

But there was one thing Cain hadn’t accounted for.

Vaileon, the man long resigned to unrequited love, had found new light in Marienne.

Cain had underestimated him — thought he’d never act on his feelings.

But Marienne and Vaileon had become lovers.

All because of that locket Cain himself had thrown into a pond in anger.

‘If I’d known things would turn out like this, I never would’ve thrown it.’

Cain ground his teeth. A flyer caught on his polished boot. His already grim expression darkened further.

‘Even trash dares to block my path now?’

Normally, he’d have just brushed it off and kept walking.

But for some reason, today, he stooped to pick it up and look.

It was exactly what he thought — a cheap advertisement aimed at women.

The words “Empire’s Flower Contest” gleamed in ornate letters.

He was about to crumple it when something at the bottom caught his eye — a name both familiar and infuriatingly rare.

He hadn’t misread it. There, in the list of Special Judges, was the name Marienne Didi.

“Why is the Chancellor’s aide judging a beauty contest?”

He read the flyer from top to bottom.

Apparently, this year’s summer festival would feature the first-ever male category of the Empire’s Flower Contest.

Phrases like “A beautiful young man just for you!” and “A shocking performance that will leave you breathless!” were scattered across the page — exactly the sort of nonsense Marienne would dream up.

Cain stared at the flyer, his expression darkening further, before tossing it into a trash bin.

But as he walked on, his eyes landed on a poster board in the square.

It bore the same contest notice — and a crowd of young men had gathered before it.

Pathetic, Cain thought. No man in his right mind would want to preen for female spectators.

Yet there they were — some joking, some reading the requirements with surprising seriousness.

And most of them were, annoyingly, quite good-looking.

‘You said you hate me because I’m a black-haired man from the North.’

And suddenly, a thought flashed across Cain’s mind.

‘But what if I changed both my name and my appearance? Would you still hate me then, Marienne Didi?’