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Chapter 08
Dorothy glared at Lyle and asked,
“Shouldn’t you be riding the carriage you came in, Mr. Lyle?”
“The carriage I came in has already left, so I had no choice.”
“That’s exactly my point. Why did you do that?”
“I’m not sure what you mean,” Lyle replied shamelessly.
“You sent it off empty!”
Thinking about what had just happened made her feel both suffocated and incredulous. There was no need to reconsider it—Lyle really was a weirdo. As Dorothy watched him when she left first, Lyle quickly closed the distance. No matter how she tried to think otherwise, she could only conclude that he was following her, so she asked:
‘You’re not seriously following me, are you?’
And what had Lyle said then?
‘No.’
He answered sharply, then lengthened his stride and overtook Dorothy completely. It felt oddly unsettling, but since her goal had been to put distance between them anyway, she didn’t think much of it and followed behind him comfortably.
The road led toward the entrance of the horse ranch, and Dorothy thought it would be better if Lyle went first. And that assumption turned out to be correct. The only thing different from what she had expected was—
“It wasn’t unavoidable. I saw you deliberately send the carriage away.”
Dorothy had clearly seen Lyle talking to the coachman. The coachman looked troubled after hearing what Lyle said, then left first with the empty carriage. It was obviously Lyle’s doing.
Lyle met Dorothy’s eyes for a moment, then let out a light sigh and said,
“Well, since you saw it, I can’t deny it. Yes, I sent it away.”
Wow. This man really is a weirdo.
“So why?”
“I don’t know.”
What?
“I suppose I thought that if there were two carriages, Miss Dorothy wouldn’t let me ride with you.”
Lyle answered without even blinking.
“Thank you for letting me ride in your carriage.”
So what—did he think I was the kind of person who would abandon someone at a remote ranch you have to ride a carriage all the way up to?
“As someone as well-mannered, polite, and perfect as I am, I can’t pass by a person in trouble. Now stop dodging the question and answer me. What do you want from me?”
“Would you like an honest answer, or a dishonest one?”
That was a question? Lyle looked steadily into Dorothy’s eyes. He is handsome, she thought. If only not for that hair. If she just reached out a little—
“Which would you like to hear?”
Dorothy caught herself just as she was thinking about brushing aside the hair fluttering over his forehead.
“Obviously, I want the honest answer.”
“I wanted to know you better.”
“That was a mistake. Start with the dishonest one.”
“I wanted to get closer to you.”
What—was this man seriously flirting, banking on his good looks? Either way, it sounded like he was implying he’d fallen for her.
Clatter— The carriage suddenly jolted violently. From the recoil, Lyle’s face moved closer, then farther away.
Even amid the shaking, Lyle’s gaze remained firmly fixed on Dorothy. In those strangely colored eyes—somewhere between brown and green—only Dorothy was reflected clearly. As she found herself drawn into them, Lyle’s eyes curved gently.
“Are you all right?”
With a face like that, claiming he’d fallen for her was pretty convincing.
“It’s uncomfortable.”
Lyle immediately asked,
“Is my answer what made you uncomfortable?”
“No. I’m used to that. I mean the carriage.”
I want to know you better. I want to get closer to you.
She’d heard lines like that so many times she was sick of them.
He said he was a fan—so I guess he likes me.
How shallow. To approach her for such a simple reason—if anything, it made her feel indifferent. Everyone openly acknowledged it: Dorothy was the first love of countless boys. One more person wanting to get close to her didn’t stir anything new.
Lyle looked at her with a curious expression and asked,
“Is the carriage uncomfortable?”
Of course it was. A big man had squeezed himself into a one-person carriage. It was cramped to begin with, and the distance between them was too close. Still, bumping into Lyle wasn’t particularly unpleasant. She could even enjoy appreciating his face. More than that—
“Yes. It’s way too bumpy.”
As soon as she said it, the carriage jolted again.
Ugh. I’m going to get motion sick. The road had been winding and rough even on the way up, but she’d forgotten all that while looking at the horses. The way down felt even worse.
Dorothy sighed and reached for the small side window, but before her hand touched it, Lyle intervened. His thick arm moved ahead of her and opened the window. Fresh air rushed in, and she felt a little better.
No—maybe still just as bad. Dorothy frowned and complained,
“It’s been a long time since I rode in a carriage like this.”
Dorothy was the bestselling author in the capital over the past few years. The Hero series, which had become the bible for teenagers, brought her immense wealth. She hadn’t been particularly frugal or extravagant before, but money changed things.
They say position makes the person—but vast wealth makes a new one, too.
Dorothy had awakened to the charm of carriages, said to be the greatest luxury of the nobility. Owning a horse ranch like those of the great ducal families was still beyond reach, but she could easily afford several high-end carriages.
“My carriage isn’t this cramped or this bumpy.”
I should’ve come in my own carriage. She’d left it in the stable to rest after the long ride to the Serin region, and now she deeply regretted it. How could it shake this much on a paved road?
Clatter. The carriage swayed side to side again.
Each time, Dorothy’s and Lyle’s bodies brushed slightly. Dorothy twisted away uncomfortably, but there was nowhere to go in such a narrow space. Lyle apologized with a faintly guilty look.
“It would’ve been better to leave my carriage.”
“It wouldn’t have been much different.”
Dorothy shrugged. What was the point of regretting the past?
“My carriage is the most comfortable one in the capital.”
It had been designed with an absurd amount of gold—state-of-the-art, stable even on gravel roads.
“Come to think of it, Miss Dorothy, you seem to like horses and carriages. You even stopped by the ranch to look at horses.”
His comment puzzled her.
“Yes. I do like horses.”
Why was he saying that like it was some big revelation?
The Hero series, starting with The Hero and the Blue Horn, was also a story about the horses she loved. The reason people thought she resembled the heroine, Roshi, was because Dorothy genuinely adored horses.
He said he was a fan, yet didn’t know that? Suspicious. Dorothy narrowed her eyes.
“You’ve read The Hero and the Blue Horn, right?”
“Yes.”
The answer came without hesitation, yet something felt off.
“Then do you know the name of the female lead?”
Lyle hesitated. The carriage shook again.
“I’m not very good at remembering names.”
Oh no. This guy probably hasn’t read it at all.
So he’s not a fan, but he wants to know me and get close to me? Is he a con artist after my money? He had a decent face and a sleek body—like a gigolo.
Come to think of it, was that whole ‘let me ride your carriage’ bit just groundwork?
Dorothy despised con men who latched onto successful women for an easy score. It didn’t help that Rexa and Rops teased her endlessly about such scenarios.
“If you think hard, you might remember.”
Pressed relentlessly, Lyle finally opened his mouth.
“R—…”
Roshi?
“Lily.”
Lily, my foot. This crazy gigolo scammer.
“Wrong! That’s—”
“How about it?”
Just as she was about to say he was wrong, he suddenly asked how Lily was. Lily? Oh—right. The man in front of her was the owner of Lily, the mythical beast.
“You wanted to touch Lily, didn’t you? Am I mistaken?”
How could she have forgotten that?
“That’s right! I want to touch her at least once!”
“If you know how to ride,” Lyle said.
Given that he didn’t know horseback riding was her hobby, he definitely wasn’t a fan.
“I do! Does that mean I could ride Lily?”
“If Lily is willing to get close to you, then yes.”
“Really?”
“But you’ll need Lily’s permission.”
Mr. Lyle.
“Of course.”
He’s a good person.
People are complex and multifaceted, after all.
So what if he’s a bit of a weirdo, maybe even a con artist? His attitude toward horses—respectful and restrained—was genuine.
Dorothy remembered how Lily had rubbed her face against Lyle’s palm. Someone acknowledged by animals couldn’t be that bad. He was the owner of the most beautiful Lily on earth.
Hadn’t Dorothy thought about getting closer to Lyle from the very first moment she saw him? Even if he was suspicious, as long as she didn’t get deeply involved, it would be fine. Just as she was thinking that, the carriage suddenly lurched sharply to one side.
“Urgh—seriously, isn’t this too much?”
What kind of driving is this?
Her already unsettled stomach nearly turned over. Dorothy covered her mouth and glared toward where the coachman should be.
She was going to give him a piece of her mind. She had enough to say about the responsibility of driving a carriage and the precious effort of the horses to go on all day. Just then, the carriage stopped.
I didn’t say to stop yet? The scenery outside the side window was still a forested mountain road.
“Miss Dorothy.”
“Yes.”
“I believe there’s a problem with the carriage.”
“So it seems.”
That much was obvious. As Dorothy reached to open the door, Lyle blocked her.
“Why?”
“I’ll go check.”
“Ah… that’s fine, I guess.”
Dorothy grabbed tightly onto the hem of Lyle’s shirt as he tried to stand. Her stomach was still churning.
“Mr. Lyle, you said you wanted to get closer to me, right?”
“Yes, I did, but—”
“If I were to be rude to your chest, would that change your feelings?”
“……”
“That would be difficult, wouldn’t it? I still need to get close to Lily, and your feelings can’t change. So—”
“Miss Dorothy?”
“I’ll get up first!”
Saying that, Dorothy forcefully yanked Lyle’s shirt. She shoved the startled Lyle back into his seat, quickly stood up, and opened the door.
Ugh, I’m dying. Seriously.
She got down, suppressing the vomit rising to her throat—
“?”
“?”
“?”
“?”
She came face to face with masked men.
What the—who are they?
“Uwaegh—”
She gagged, too shocked to hold it back.
