Chapter 3: WHMSM

Chapter 3

In the end, I accepted the check and quietly slipped it into my inner pocket.

At the same time, I handed the Master a piece of paper with a woman's name written on it.

"Oh, and could you throw in some information about this lady as a bonus?"

The Master fell silent for a moment before letting out a small, helpless laugh.

"Just this once."

"I knew I could count on you, Master!"

A moment later, he passed me the information.

That concluded all my business here.

Having accomplished my goal, I was about to leave with a refreshed smile when—

"...Ah, but may I mention one more thing?"

"Of course."

Afraid he might suddenly change his mind, I pressed a hand protectively over the check in my pocket and nodded.

"Recently, a VIP of the sort I cannot name purchased information regarding you, my lady. As your creditor, I thought it best to warn you in advance of the possibility I fear most."

"Wait... are you saying I might die because some VIP looked into me?"

The words alone sent chills racing down my spine.

In the novel, the Master reserved the phrase 'a VIP I cannot name' for only a handful of people.

And among them was Duke Lakan.

"I'll be careful."

For someone fated to die at the hands of Duke Lakan—the second male lead for Rinea—this was invaluable information.

I frantically searched my memories, trying to figure out what exactly the Duke was doing at this point in the story.

Still, there was nothing I could do about it right now.

I needed to finish the rest of my errands and head home.

I opened the door and stepped outside.

"Phew..."

I had been walking for a while when I heard footsteps behind me.

Slowly drawing closer.

"...Huh?"

The Master's warning flashed through my mind.

Don't tell me Duke Lakan is already after me?

No, that couldn't be right.

As far as I knew, Asha Delmore—the woman whose body I now inhabited—and Duke Lakan barely had any connection.

Did selling that information somehow alter the story?

I hadn't sold anything important enough to change the plot!

I should've bought some kind of self-defense weapon earlier.

The story hadn't even properly begun yet, and I'd let myself get far too comfortable.

I quickened my pace.

But whoever was following me caught up much faster than I expected.

"...My lady."

"Aaaah!"

It was a low, languid voice.

Yet somehow, just hearing it sent a primal sense of danger through me.

I broke into a run.

The man chasing me easily caught up, even on the crowded main street, and abruptly stepped in front of me.

My vision was instantly blocked by a broad, imposing figure that looked like a solid wall.

"I'd like a moment of your time."

"W-W-Who are you?!"

Startled out of my wits, I looked up at him with a face pale enough to faint.

He was a complete stranger.

His long, cold eyes held a strangely sensual edge, and their mere gaze was enough to make me feel pressured.

"I think you know who I am better than anyone, my lady. Please, spare me a moment."

"You think I know you?"

He looked like the leader of some underground crime syndicate.

Was he someone Asha knew in the original story?

The problem was that the novel never went into detail about a minor villain's background.

Honestly, I had no idea who he was.

But one thing was certain.

Standing before this man, I felt like I couldn't even breathe freely.

I had always considered myself fairly brave.

"W-What is this about? Please, let's talk here."

If we didn't speak where there were plenty of witnesses, I was certain I'd be dragged off somewhere and killed.

With a face that terrifying, burying people alive probably feels like a daily routine to him.

The man pressed a gloved finger against his temple.

His expression carried an unmistakable air of weariness and boredom as he shook his head.

"This isn't the sort of conversation we should have in public."

"Th-Then..."

"My carriage is waiting. Please join me for a moment."

A wave of dizziness washed over me.

Without meaning to, I shut my eyes.

At a single gesture from him, a black carriage pulled up to the curb.

The coachman immediately climbed down and opened the door.

As though nothing in the world could possibly stand in his way, the man smiled.

"It's quite comfortable. You needn't worry."

Comfortable, huh?

That only made me more nervous.

Why does this feel like I'm being invited into a coffin?

As I hesitated, he tilted his head, genuinely puzzled.

"Do you not know how to board a carriage?"

He extended a hand clad in black leather gloves—the sort that wouldn't even show bloodstains.

Determined not to get in, I nonetheless found myself yielding under his elegant pressure.

Even so, I tried to avoid being completely isolated with him.

"Could we at least leave the door open while we talk—"

"It won't take long."

"...Right."

Just as the thought I'm doomed flashed through my mind, the man ducked his large frame into the carriage after me.

Thunk.

The door closed mercilessly behind him.

Who in the world is this man, and why is he after me...?

As I cautiously studied him from across the carriage, he finally spoke.

"I brought you inside because I wished to apologize for rejecting your confession."

"...What?"

With looks that striking, I was certain I would have remembered him.

Ignoring my reaction entirely, he continued.

"It would be improper to discuss a lady's private affairs out in the street."

What was he talking about now?

Blinking rapidly, I sorted through the information in my head.

"So you're saying I confessed to you... and you turned me down?"

"If pretending not to remember eases your embarrassment, then yes."

He smiled faintly, his expression saying, I understand everything.

The smile looked so fierce that I couldn't tell whether he was being considerate or threatening me.

"Sorry, my memory's been awful lately. May I ask your name again?"

For a brief moment, he looked genuinely confused.

Still, he answered immediately.

"I am Marquis Rivandel."

Who?

I honestly didn't remember anyone by that name appearing in the original novel, but I nodded as if I did.

"Ah... yes, I think it's coming back to me now."

"If I recall correctly, it has only been two months."

"Well, I did get married and widowed in that time, so things have been a little hectic."

At my words, the intimidating-looking man offered a sincere apology.

"...I failed to consider that. My apologies."

Contrary to his fearsome appearance, Marquis Rivandel spoke quite gently.

Encouraged, I asked the question that had been bothering me.

"But if you rejected my confession, shouldn't that have been the end of it? Why chase me down, put me in your carriage, and apologize now?"

A rejection was a rejection.

Apparently, before I possessed this body, Asha Delmore had been in love with Marquis Rivandel.

But that had nothing to do with me.

Unfortunately, the Marquis seemed to think otherwise.

Leaning slightly closer, he smiled with narrowed eyes.

The smile was oddly dangerous.

Like a beautiful flower hiding poison among its petals.

He hadn't even appeared in the original story, so I had no idea what he did for a living—or what he was really thinking.

Yet he continued in an easy, pleasant tone.

"At the time, you were engaged to another gentleman. Naturally, I had to refuse you firmly."

"I see."

So Asha Delmore hadn't liked the man she was meant to marry and had confessed to her longtime crush, Marquis Rivandel, before the wedding.

Simple enough.

Still, this man obviously wasn't interested in me.

Certain of that, I looked back at him with mild indifference.

Then Marquis Rivandel smiled brightly.

"But the truth is, I also wished to get to know you better."

"...Excuse me? Me?"

"Of course, I wasn't interested in you at the time. However, you were the first person ever to confess to me."

"What is this?"

The words slipped out before I could stop them.

Apparently not hearing my mutter, the Marquis continued.

"I wanted to apologize, but you stopped attending social events entirely, so I had no opportunity to speak with you."

"Then you weren't following me?"

"Of course not. I had business of my own today. I simply happened to see you from behind and thought..."

His lips curved into a smile.

"...perhaps this was fate."

"F-Fate...?"

Why was a man that handsome calling me his destiny?

And not just any man—a marquis.

A powerful noble.

I have a bad feeling about this.

This is definitely...!