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Chapter 06
Dorothy frowned slightly as she mulled over the man’s words.
If you like someone, you like them—what does it mean that it “didn’t seem like you did”?
For a moment, Dorothy even wondered whether Lyle had been cruelly led on somewhere. Once that thought crossed her mind, she started to feel a bit sorry for him.
He had sharp eyes and looked smart, but turns out he was just naïve.
“So something like that happened… You must have been really hurt.”
Dorothy offered him some warm words of comfort. But even at that, Lyle’s stiff expression didn’t soften. The wound in his heart clearly ran deep, so Dorothy tried again.
“With time, someone better than her will come along. Please don’t be too discouraged.”
“I wasn’t discouraged.”
Even Lyle’s vehement denial, Dorothy accepted with generous understanding.
“Yes, yes. I understand.”
She had experience in this area. Back when Robbs got kicked around like a neighborhood soccer ball and Rexa laughed at him, Dorothy had always been the one in charge of comforting people.
“Mr. Lyle, you have a nice nose bridge, so I’m sure you’ll meet someone great.”
She wasn’t very good at this, though.
“What does my nose bridge have to do with anything?”
Lyle asked incredulously. Still, his stiff expression loosened just a little.
As Dorothy looked at him with nothing but sympathy, Lyle asked sharply,
“Shouldn’t I be the one comforting you instead?”
Ouch.
“I’ve heard that you already have someone you like, Miss Dorothy.”
Hitting a sore spot right on the first meeting?
But Dorothy Sailor was a one-year veteran of unrequited love.
How many times had noble ladies at social gatherings suddenly interrogated her, doubting her sincerity?
Quick thinking wasn’t something you were born with—it was something you developed. Dorothy only learned that after starting this absurd unrequited-love act.
The Marchioness of Moven’s parting words—saying Dorothy’s confession of loving Duke Cameon had better not be a lie—had done wonders for sharpening her reflexes.
“Ah… so you know.”
In an instant, Dorothy transformed into a woman living with a lingering sadness from an unfulfilled first love.
“Yes. There is someone I like.”
Lyle fell quiet, as if the sudden shift in her demeanor had left him speechless.
Even I think my acting is pretty amazing.
Director Rexa. Scriptwriter Robbs. Actress Dorothy.
The three of them had put their heads together, pulling all-nighters to create this performance. Repeated over a long time, it had matured, fermented, and reached perfection.
Dorothy was confident she could convince even Duke Cameon himself—
though, of course, that would never happen.
The work-obsessed Duke Cameon hated lounging around at parties, so their paths never crossed to begin with.
Even if the duke ever impulsively went out socializing, Dorothy could just stay home.
She studied him daily, like reading the morning paper, so predicting that much was easy.
And from the very start of this ridiculous unrequited-love farce, Dorothy had made a firm decision.
She would never face Duke Cameon in person.
If she did—
…she’d die of embarrassment.
Shaking off stray thoughts, Dorothy gathered herself and focused on her performance.
Go for tragic sincerity, Dorothy!
“I like him.”
Acting meant to persuade had to be more desperate than real feelings.
“I like Duke Cameon very, very much.”
It had to be flawless—so flawless that no one could doubt it.
“It’s just… my feelings alone, though.”
A hint of resignation mixed with a swell of emotion. Perfect.
If she could, Dorothy thought, she’d applaud herself.
“‘You like him’—”
So.
“You’re really saying you’re in unrequited love with Duke Cameon?”
Up until Lyle started doubting her.
What is this man even saying?
“I don’t feel that you like Duke Cameon at all, Miss Dorothy.”
“What do you mean by that?”
He’d just watched her perfect performance up close, and he still thought it showed?
“You said you like Duke Cameon, but isn’t it possible you’re mistaken about the person?”
What. The hell.
“What are you talking about—no! I said I’m in love with Duke Cameon!”
“So you truly are in unrequited love with Duke Cameon?”
Not content with repeating the same question over and over, Lyle looked at her with obvious displeasure.
Why does it matter to him who I like? Ridiculous.
“Yes! I said yes! How many times are you going to ask the same thing?”
“…I just find it hard to believe.”
“What part? That someone cute, charming, and perfect like me fell in love?”
“No.”
He shook his head immediately.
Slow to answer everything else, but quick with that denial. Dorothy frowned.
“Then what are you denying? Cute? Charming? Perfect?”
“All three.”
“What?! You’re saying I’m not cute, not charming, and not perfect?”
Despite Dorothy’s outrage, Lyle replied calmly,
“I mean the part about being in love.”
“Oh. That.”
“Miss Dorothy, you don’t know anything about Duke Cameon, do you?”
His eyes were filled with incomprehension.
“Excuse me, Mr. Lyle. Why do you think I don’t know anything about him?”
Lowering his long lashes, Lyle remained silent.
Between them, his hazel-green eyes showed emotions that refused both understanding and acceptance.
Then again, he wasn’t the first to look at her that way.
People who heard Dorothy’s unfortunate unrequited-love story often did.
“I’m Dorothy Sailor, you know. There’s no way someone like me wouldn’t know anything about the person I love.”
Lifting her chin, Dorothy spoke.
“A pheasant stew simmered for seventy-two hours with premium spices.”
“…?”
“White bread baked from finely ground flour made from the highest-grade wheat grown only in the Momil region. And black tea brewed from Bright Morning tea leaves—Ailam’s signature product, said to be grown solely on morning dew—steeped in water drawn from the well last night.”
“…!”
“That was the duke’s breakfast this morning.”
Dorothy confidently recited Duke Cameon’s breakfast menu, obtained earlier that day. Lyle looked genuinely shocked.
Hmph. Of course. Who do you think I am?
“Our Duke Cameon only orders clothes from a tailor shop on Leon Street. His regular tailor is Bill Knox. He frequents an antiquarian bookstore on Bengal Street, and his taste in books is quite picky. People say he likes military strategy texts, but based on my analysis, he prefers historical works set during the era of the Pantheon Three-Nation Alliance.”
She continued proudly.
“You can’t send a gift of love without attention to detail. Well… he rejected my confession gift, so I can’t send any more. Honestly, I’m glad my money’s saved—no, no, that’s not it. I mean, it’s such a shame I can’t express my feelings anymore.”
Realizing her slip of the tongue, Dorothy glanced at Lyle nervously.
But Lyle didn’t seem to notice. Instead, he looked deeply shaken.
What, is it really that shocking that I know so much about him?
What do people think women in love are like? Dorothy felt oddly satisfied.
“Now you’ll admit it, right? That I’ve fallen for the duke.”
Lyle asked the triumphant-looking Dorothy,
“Did you dig into Duke Cameon’s private life?”
“‘Dig into’ makes it sound like I did something bad. I just wanted to know everything about the person I like. That’s just love! L-O-V-E. Don’t you get it?”
“I don’t.”
Dorothy felt his gaze sharpen slightly. What was that about?
“Do you know Duke Cameon’s real name or what he looks like?”
“Hah. That’s the bare minimum.”
Ridiculous. Still, Lyle waited for her answer.
“You think I wouldn’t know the name of the man I love?”
Reproaching her own overly kind nature, Dorothy replied,
“Feirail Cameon. The duke of the prestigious House of Cameon. He resembles both the previous Duke Cameon and Lady Mason—the legendary couple of their era. Talent, wealth, and perfect looks without flaw. Calling him a man who has everything wouldn’t be an exaggeration.”
In truth, Dorothy had never seen Duke Cameon up close. She’d once glimpsed him at a count’s party thanks to Rexa’s fussing, but even then, only his retreating back. Still, you had to know what mattered.
She recalled documents describing the duke’s flawless model-like proportions. His power and ability were impressive, of course, but his appearance was perfection itself.
And that was what she liked.
“Especially his eyes. Those hazel eyes, like they’re steeped in melancholy—so beautiful.”
So perfect that anyone would believe Dorothy Sailor had fallen head over heels.
“…I see.”
The agreement felt strangely cold.
“It seems easy for you to like someone, Miss Dorothy.”
“Is that strange?”
Dorothy blinked.
“…Didn’t you say it was unrequited love?”
“Yes, and?”
“Knowing that Duke Cameon won’t notice you or accept you—haven’t you ever felt that loving him is painful?”
I must look like someone suffering from unrequited love. Dorothy nodded at the question, while finding it curious that people always asked this.
“The situation can be hard, I won’t lie.”
Memorizing everything about the duke was tedious and exhausting.
“But liking him isn’t hard.”
Liking someone is easy.
Dorothy truly believed that. Liking someone meant living according to where your heart led. You didn’t have to deny or resist it. It might be the easiest thing in the world.
“That’s what it means to really like someone, right?”
A smile bloomed on Dorothy’s lips.
“‘Liking someone’—”
Lyle murmured the words softly. For the second time.
“This works out well. I think I can help you, Miss Dorothy.”
“Help me… huh? W–What did you just say?!”
“I said I’ll help you with your love.”
The man named Lyle, with hazel-colored eyes, added,
“Duke Cameon and I are very close.”
What is this ominous feeling?
“I’m meeting the duke tomorrow. Would you like to come along?”
…She’d definitely gotten herself involved with the wrong person.
