-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Vine
Chapter: 4
Chapter Title: A Genius and a Recluse
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Truthfully, I was skeptical even as I handed Darcy the sketch of my idea.
The concept was sound, but the design was far too vague. I'm no engineer; I could only explain that I wanted 'something like this,' which hardly qualified as a proper blueprint.
But for this man, Darcy, the word 'impossible' didn't seem to exist.
“I'll make it.”
After staring intently at the sketch I'd drawn, he readily nodded.
He shot me a pathetic look when I asked if it would be difficult.
I felt awkward. How foolish of me, a mere mortal, to question the ways of a genius!
I decided to keep my faith in this handsome merchant. Besides, it wouldn't be much of a loss even if he failed. I wasn't paying him in advance, and I had magic stones practically overflowing in my room.
Darcy added a condition.
“Our meetings will always be one-on-one. No one else must know about our contract. If anyone finds out, the deal is off immediately.”
Geniuses are meant to be eccentric, they say. I had no complaints.
The contract was settled in a flash. He vanished like the wind, just as he had when he first appeared. We agreed to meet again in two weeks, in the same drawing room.
As he left, I sent him off with a generous amount of the magic stones I had lying around my room.
Now, it was time to practice the art of patience.
I ordered Leticia to clear out all the furniture from the adjacent room. It was all part of my grand plan to lay the groundwork for my movie theater.
I ordered new curtains, so thick that when drawn you couldn't tell day from night, and I planned to put up new wallpaper. My heart swelled at the thought of a screen that would fill one side of the room.
“Ah, I'll have to talk to the theater troupe, too.”
I remembered another task I needed to handle beforehand. I had my heart set on a movie theater, but in an era without film editing, actual movies were out of the question.
Still, I could record and play back plays or operas, couldn't I? A cultural life is crucial, especially when you're enjoying it alone.
Of course, with the Etoile family's fortune, I could have simply bought a theater troupe and held private performances at the estate, but I had no desire to do so. Every move I make draws attention.
I am the villainess. Having my every move become the subject of gossip is quite, no, *exhaustingly* tiresome.
No matter how many times I tell people not to gossip, they never listen. Everyone thinks, *'Just this once won't hurt.'*
I'd experienced it countless times over the past year. It was draining to hear people—through the theater troupe and others—speculating on my reactions and trying to figure out what kind of person I was.
That was one of the reasons I wanted a private theater—a place where no one would care how I sat or how much I gushed over the performance.
I stretched my stiff body and looked at Leticia. My praiseworthy maid!
“Leticia.”
“Yes, Young Lady.”
My loyal confidante, Leticia, answered briskly as always. I smiled at her.
“Let's summon the entire cast of the Cherry Theater Troupe's new opera premiere.”
I should at least decide what to record. Oh, and while I'm at it, maybe I should commission a new script. Something like the over-the-top Korean melodramas I know so well.
“All of them?”
“Yes. Let's have them meet us in the garden.”
“Yes, I understand.”
One of the reasons I was so fond of Leticia was that she followed my orders without question. This time was no different.
On the same day I joyfully summoned the troupe, a rather unwelcome message arrived.
The heroine, Reshuan, had sent a letter saying she wished to see me.
Reshuan's goodwill was a headache in many ways. Whether I accepted or declined the invitation, the gossip would be the same.
The sender herself probably hadn't given it a second thought, though.
Given Reshuan's kindhearted nature, she was most likely genuinely worried that I hadn't been seen in high society lately.
Still, I never thought she'd send a letter personally.
Reshuan rarely sent me invitations directly. For one, the Epekel family didn't approve of me and would intercept her letters.
And I, in turn, hadn't invited Reshuan to the estate for the past year.
I had no desire to endure the male leads' glares, and besides, I didn't particularly enjoy spending time with Reshuan.
I know Reshuan herself isn't a bad person.
The kind and lovely heroine, adored by all. The kind of person who effortlessly attracts a following.
That in itself was a testament to her charm, but I found it difficult to be around her.
The harder I tried to ignore the rumors and be good to her, the more my efforts were dismissed.
When we were together, people would compare us, always putting me down in the process.
This was the heroine buff.
Of course, Reshuan knew nothing about this.
The social awareness I always had to maintain was something she never needed.
I chose my clothes carefully and studied etiquette to get closer to people, but all that effort was overshadowed by her mere presence.
Unlike me, who had to change, the protagonists never had to. They were loved for who they were.
I found myself constantly asking what I was lacking. And with each question, my self-esteem plummeted.
‘It's so much easier now that I've given up.’
The bitter truth that effort doesn't guarantee good relationships no longer mattered. I'll just live however I please.
Just because I was avoiding high society didn't mean I could dodge a meeting with Reshuan entirely.
I needed to meet her at least once and set things straight.
Of course, having Reshuan come alone would be a problem.
“I'll have to tell her to come with the male leads.”
If Reshuan and I met alone, it would undoubtedly lead to misunderstandings later.
I couldn't stand the thought of them hearing about it later, storming the estate, and insulting me.
***
Reshuan agreed when I told her to bring Ryan and Kaysen along.
All three were busy, so scheduling wasn't easy. In the end, we settled on the day right after my meeting with Darcy.
I'd spent so much time coordinating with Reshuan that I still hadn't met with the opera singers or the troupe.
Of course, Reshuan would never know of my consideration. To her, it was simply a matter of course.
I shook off thoughts of Reshuan and stood up from my seat.
Today was a happy day—the day I would meet with Darcy to discuss the magic tool.
There was no need to spoil my mood by thinking about Reshuan.
On the drawing room table lay an envelope, neatly containing the five-billion-gold check we had discussed when drawing up the contract. Procuring such an amount hadn't been difficult.
On paper, it belonged to the Etoile family, but I was the true owner of one of the smaller magic stone mines. A mine that produced magic stones, of all things.
Of course, Marso Etoile, the original owner of this body, had no interest in magic stones themselves at all.
With the check prepared, my thoughts drifted to the room I'd just finished redecorating. The thought of tomorrow's meeting improved my mood.
I had decorated the room in shades of black, creating an atmosphere completely different from the ornate furniture, wallpaper, and accessories typical of this place.
Simple is best. The theme was modern. I got rid of as much ornamentation as possible, ordering furniture that was high-quality but free of jewels or lavish decorations. Once it was done, I was completely satisfied.
The room, awash in black and white, looked like a showroom. It was the kind of thing you'd see on the IKEA website.
The maids, who at first had been aghast, asking what on earth this was, eventually came around. They began popping in and out of the room, their curiosity piqued, admitting that it was starting to grow on them.
Tick. The clock in the room chimed. One minute until two o'clock, the appointed time.
I cut a slice of cake. This time, I'd prepared a fork, plate, and teacup for Darcy as well, though whether he'd actually use them was anyone's guess.
The moment the clock struck two,
Darcy appeared right on cue.
With his hair tied up and a scowl on his face, he looked quite menacing. Without a smile, his eyes were decidedly sharp.
…I had a strong feeling that if we'd met under different circumstances, his personality would be far nastier.
Seeing me flinch, Darcy seemed to register his own expression. He furrowed his brow for a moment before letting the corners of his eyes crinkle into a smile. His brightened face made him look like a completely different person.
“Hello.”
His lovely voice was striking. He would make a great voice actor. Or a radio host.
Shaking myself from my stray thoughts, I greeted him in return.
“Hello.”
“Whew, you wouldn't believe how many people tried to stop me on my way here.”
Darcy plopped down on the sofa.
Soon enough, Darcy's expression reverted to the arrogant yet elegant mask he'd worn at our first meeting. I calmly asked about what I wanted.
“It's been exactly two weeks. What about my request?”
Even as I asked, I was anxious. No matter how confident he was, actually making a magic tool was a different matter. I was prepared to give him a month, or even two, instead of just two weeks if he asked.
As I waited for his answer with a tense face, Darcy crossed his arms and leaned back on the sofa. His silver hair shimmered like a waterfall.
“Before I answer, I have a question. Why are you making this? You act like someone who never plans to go outside.”
“Because I don't.”
I admitted it readily. Rumors would start spreading on their own as I spent more time confined to the estate anyway. What difference would it make if I said it myself?
“Why?”
Darcy asked, his curiosity genuine.
Looking at his face, I considered how to answer.
Should I just make something up?
It's best to keep myself in check and nip any potential problems in the bud.
Especially with a merchant like Darcy. They're notorious gossips.
I stared blankly at Darcy. He didn't press me, but he waited tenaciously for an answer.
Meeting his gaze, my hesitation suddenly felt pointless.
Why was I even worrying about this? If rumors spread, they spread. If they don't, they don't.
None of it mattered anymore.
I muttered in a small voice.
“I'm tired of dealing with people.”
