Chapter 60
Marienne froze on the spot.
She didn’t know why she had to hold her breath when this wasn’t even a crime scene—but she did anyway.
“Wait. Am I absolutely sure this isn’t a crime scene?”
Her eyes rolled downward to the enormous velvet box wrapped with a ribbon.
Inside was a diamond jewelry set worth an unimaginable sum, a satin gown with a three-meter-wide skirt, embroidered with golden thread and covered in thousands of crystals along every pleat.
And next to it, a pair of ribboned heels made from the same fabric, their five-centimeter heels plated with what looked like pure gold.
She couldn’t help but laugh bitterly.
Who in the world gold-plates the heels of shoes?
Well, apparently there are plenty of lunatics out there.
If that man offers money, the craftsman will make anything.
And the person who received this box full of extravagance—
—was none other than Marienne Didi, a government official.
“Bribery. Bribery. Oh my god!”
Marienne slammed the box shut.
The next problem? Her small, cozy office—belonging to the Third Secretary—had absolutely no space to hide something that huge.
“What do I do? It won’t fit under the desk… Ugh, okay, push it into the corner for now.”
She looked around for a piece of cloth to cover it. If she angled it just right, maybe it could pass as a round table she’d recently added to the room.
“That should do… right?”
Now that she had caught Odette’s attention, Marienne was no longer just a lowly bureaucrat. Every word, every action mattered.
She had to avoid doing anything that might reflect poorly on Odette.
But what if Her Highness found out that Marienne had received such an enormous gift from Odette’s fiancé?
“Ugh, this is so unfair! That bastard! I cover for him for once—save him from being a bald-headed wreck because I was too busy with my own love life—and this is how he repays me?!”
Knock, knock.
Should she just pretend not to be here?
Knock, knock.
But whoever was outside was persistent—like they knew she was inside.
Please, please don’t let it be an auditor making a surprise visit.
“Uh… who is it?”
“Knew you were in there.”
The door opened without waiting for an answer.
Marienne, who was already on edge, grimaced at the sight of the intruder.
“You.”
She pointed accusingly at Kain.
“Since you’re here, take this box with you. Refund it. Now.”
“Marienne Didi, I guess you’re not used to custom-made goods.”
Kain’s calm, smug tone was infuriating.
“There’s no such thing as a refund.”
“Watch that mouth of yours.”
“So either wear it… or burn it. Your choice.”
Her finger trembled midair as she pointed at him.
“Why should I deal with something you bought?”
Marienne jerked her chin toward the nameplate on her desk.
“Open your eyes and read that. I’m a government official with the Ministry of State. Not part of the Duke of Blackwood’s cleanup crew.”
She’d barely spoken a few sentences, and she could already feel her blood boiling.
Marienne stomped her foot.
“Because of your inconsiderate behavior, I could get arrested for accepting a bribe! And if not that, then what? I’ll be dragged off by the Fourth Princess’s people!”
Kain brushed his hair back lazily.
“You call this a bribe? How amusing.”
“For the Blackwoods, this is a small gift.”
Marienne Didi—certified “Sane Person in a Room Full of Lunatics”—had to keep herself together whenever this reckless northerner was around.
“That’s not the point…”
“Did you try it on?”
“With a skirt that wide? I’d need three or four maids just to help me put it on. Think I could do that alone in this tiny office?”
“I see.”
See? What the hell was that supposed to mean?
Marienne’s lips puckered in annoyance. She didn’t even bother hiding her irritation anymore; managing her expressions in front of him was a waste of effort.
“I’ll send a maid, then.”
“If you’re going to send someone, make it a strong and handsome footman. Preferably with cute chestnut-brown hair.”
The only way to deal with nonsense was with more nonsense.
And for once, that made Kain frown. Marienne flipped her hair like she was the very picture of innocence.
“The dress aside—you must’ve at least tried on the necklace.”
If he hadn’t said it in that matter-of-fact tone, she might’ve actually done it.
Marienne flicked her hair the other way.
“I ignored it completely.”
“…Why?”
“It wouldn’t suit me. That’s your opinion, not mine.”
She stepped closer to the door. The nearer she got, the more self-satisfied Kain looked.
She ignored him, peeking out the hallway window to make sure no one was around.
“Good. No one’s there.”
Relieved, Marienne turned back to him.
“Now take that box and go back to your room.”
Kain’s eyebrow twitched.
Even if you pluck and trim each hair with tweezers, you couldn’t sculpt eyebrows that perfect.
Random thought—but Kain Blackwood really was handsome.
His skin was pale as snow from the northern tundra, his blue eyes sharp and glacial.
He was the kind of man you could glance at once on the street and still tell stories about for the rest of your life.
In short, Marienne’s aesthetic sense was just fine—she wasn’t denying that he was dangerously good-looking.
“…What’s that look for?”
When Marienne silently looked up at him, Kain shifted slightly.
“Kain Blackwood.”
“…”
“In my opinion…”
“…”
“You’d be perfectly fine if you just kept your mouth shut.”
He tried to act like he wasn’t listening, but she could tell he was.
The moment he opened his mouth to protest, Marienne pressed a finger to his lips.
“Shh.”
“Get this off me.”
“I said quiet. Be quiet and I’ll let go.”
“You—”
“Lips! Lips! Lips!”
She poked his mouth with her finger repeatedly.
“I know you’re a violent, rude, self-righteous brute, but if you could just keep this mouth shut—!”
She cupped his face to stop him from turning away, pinching his lips together so they puckered like a duck’s beak.
Kain’s eyes went wide. Clearly, no one had ever dared do this to him before.
“If you don’t talk, I can’t know for sure, right?”
Of course she knew. She just said it to make a point.
“Who knows? Maybe if you stay quiet, I’ll suddenly find you… charming?”
“…”
“You look like you’re about to punch me, but think about it. Isn’t it a good deal? You won’t get yelled at for giving me presents, and everything goes the way you want. All you have to do is zip it.”
Marienne gestured to her hand still on his lips.
“Can I let go?”
“…”
“I’m letting go.”
She finally released him, hesitated for a second before wiping her hand on her skirt—and then decided against it.
Maybe her words had gotten through. Kain said nothing, only scowled down at her.
“See? That’s so much better.”
While she was at it, she decided to drill one more thing into his head.
“And when you smile, don’t do that annoying little smirk. Smile properly, like you did at the competition.”
Kain clearly wasn’t used to being ordered around. He tensed up, about to argue.
“Shh!”
Marienne wagged her finger in front of him.
“Medicine that works always tastes bitter. You may not like what I’m saying, but think about it. You can smile nicely—why don’t you ever do it?”
“…Nicely?” he repeated, like the word itself disgusted him.
“Yes, nicely. You smiled a little after your violin performance. That smile earned you extra points.”
Marienne sighed.
“By the way, when did you even learn the violin?”
“…I’ve always known how.”
“Since birth?”
“…”
“Not since birth, right?”
“…Since twenty-two years ago.”
“Wow.”
Marienne shook her head.
“Couldn’t bring yourself to say ‘since I was three,’ huh?”
Being the fearsome Duke of the North must be exhausting.
Everyone’s three years old at some point—but apparently, the Duke couldn’t even admit that.
Maybe she’d teased him too much, because he straightened his posture, radiating his usual intimidation.
“What, came to check if I fainted out of joy after getting an expensive gift?”
“No. I knew you wouldn’t faint.”
“Then why?”
“Your office is ridiculously small. You think you can hide that box under a cloth? I came to check.”
As soon as he opened his mouth again, her irritation came rushing back.
“And what are you going to do after checking?”
“You and Beers commute together, right? Then the Chancellor will see that box sooner or later. Maybe not today, but eventually. You’re not meticulous enough to discreetly get rid of what’s inside.”
Typical. The man had zero social skills—and yet he had the nerve to talk to her like that.
Was this seriously how you spoke to someone you liked?
Marienne’s lip twitched.
“I’ve never been in a secret relationship, but I know it must be absolute hell.”
“Oh, do you now.”
Marienne folded her arms and leaned to one side.
And then the bastard did something that made her jaw drop.
He smiled—softly.
“When a woman in a secret relationship receives a gift from another man… it can be fatal to someone like Beers, who overthinks things.”
He said it with that smooth, elegant tone—his icy blue eyes glinting faintly as a cold breeze seemed to sweep through the room.
“I’m not just trying to break you, Marienne Didi. If you want something, you shake the world around it first.”
Damn this northern devil.
He never listens when you talk—but when it comes to manipulation, suddenly he’s a genius.
Marienne inhaled deeply.
Stay calm, she told herself.
To beat him, she couldn’t let herself lose control.
“Thanks for the thorough explanation, but you’re still more attractive when you keep your mouth shut.”
“…”
“I got your point. Now go. I have work to do.”
She glared at him until he finally turned to leave, then slammed the door behind him.
“This isn’t beast taming—it’s monster training! Why is that idiot even trainable?!”
She hadn’t expected her “training” to actually work.
At this rate, for the sake of everyone’s safety—well, mostly her own—Marienne Didi might have to keep this up until the day Odette ascended the throne.
“Ughhh… Do I really have to see that jerk’s face until then?”
Fuming, she dropped to the floor in despair.
Your Highness, please, it’s not too late to pick another ally. That man’s a walking disaster for our mission.
Poor transmigrator Marienne.
Pushed around, trampled over, surrounded by rich people sitting comfortably in power.
One day, she swore, she’d buy her own diamonds.
Of course, with her current savings, she couldn’t afford even a chip of one.
That was life as a broke extra in someone else’s story.
“Ah… what a pitiful fate.”
