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Chapter 3
Did he hear that whole conversation? No—before that, I had to first question why this man was even here.
Just then, the man waved something in front of my eyes.
“You dropped an earring.”
The distance between us closed abruptly. I tried to push him away, but he tilted his head slightly. Our gazes broke apart, and the tension that had risen dissolved.
“Ugh.”
I winced at the sensation brushing my ear. Then, a soft, teasing voice tickled at my earlobe.
“Stay still. I’m putting the earring back on for you.”
It was a gentle voice—and strangely familiar.
It wasn’t just a manner of speaking. I felt like I actually knew this man.
“If you didn’t have one ready, you’d regret not wearing the pair, wouldn’t you?”
The thought that this man had heard those ugly dating rumors about me also nagged at me. I was already branded as a villainess, so it wasn’t like my reputation could get worse—but rumors could branch out endlessly. I had to avoid gaining an image of being “pathetic” on top of “villainous.”
Turning my head sharply, I refused firmly.
“I don’t need it, so you don’t have to.”
It wasn’t like I could just strike Whistler here. If he got hurt, the nobles would hunt down whoever dared harm their angel, and that would mean my downfall.
Leaving was the right option.
“Stop it.”
“It’s fine.”
“What is?”
What could he possibly know to say “it’s fine”? He shouldn’t know anything.
But unlike the meaningless words, his deep gaze somehow made my chest ache. Why are you so down? It’s not your fault. I’m on your side. That’s what his eyes seemed to say.
Maybe it was because he’d said the unbelievable—that he disliked Whistler. Instead of mockery, I felt like I’d been given understanding.
“You’re the prettiest one here tonight. And the earrings match that dress perfectly.”
The man touched my earlobe with the lightest care, the warmth of his skin brushing against me. Then that different heat slowly withdrew.
“But you can’t leave it lopsided.”
For some reason, he felt oddly familiar. Maybe because, in this situation, he wasn’t rushing to give advice or make judgments. Or maybe, as others often say, sometimes when there isn’t a deep connection, you feel freer to open up.
With an easy tone, the man asked:
“Want to have a drink with me?”
Normally, I would’ve refused. But for some reason, that night I wanted to give another answer.
“Sure. Let’s drink.”
“Guess how long it’s been—since I last drank!”
People avoid alcohol for all sorts of reasons. Some get sleepy, some get loose-tongued, some pick fights.
I wasn’t any of those. I just became a little more emotional, a little more honest, a little more slurred.
“Whistler, that vending machine soda—you couldn’t drink it ‘cause you didn’t have a hundred wonnnn!”
After two bottles of red wine, my whole body was flushed hot. My mind, hazy, felt happy because it wasn’t weighed down by complicated thoughts.
“I’ll just tell my mo-ther!”
“Your mother? What will you tell her? Go on.”
“I’ll tell her everythingggg!”
“You must be close with her.”
“Not from the startttt—at first, I didn’t even believe she existed.”
“So there was a secret to your birth. But I thought she raised you with care. Was I wrong?”
“She diddd—she diddd!”
If she hadn’t, she wouldn’t have let me reincarnate as a count’s daughter. Or… maybe she didn’t care, since she threw me into Philena’s body in the remake.
“Anywayyy, we must pray to my mother! That’s how we receive graceee!”
“Wait. By ‘mother,’ you mean… not Lady Light, but God?”
“O’ course! Who else would I call mother—your mother?”
At that, the man burst out laughing. The way his teeth peeked out in his smile—it was beautiful.
Maybe it was the moonlight. But his heavy, languid gaze felt like it would swallow me whole.
“Huh? No, wait. I think I was saying something more important just now. What was it?”
He chuckled and tilted his head, then turned his eyes back to me.
“You said you hated Whistler. That you never wanted to see him again. That he even cheated on you.”
Huh? Did I say that? I didn’t remember, but maybe I’d forgotten because I hadn’t been this drunk in so long.
“Reeeally? I said that?”
“Yeah. You also said you wanted to date someone else. That you wanted to cheat too, to get revenge.”
“Revenge cheatinggg? That wasn’t even in the book……”
“What book?”
“A book that encourages tricks. With detailed step-by-step instructions. Verrry detailed!”
At that, the man pressed his lips shut, shoulders trembling as he lowered his head.
I squinted at him, raising a hand to rub my eyes—but something rough brushed against my fingers.
“Ah.”
I’d forgotten I was wearing a mask, and my hand hit the beads and decorations. He chuckled at my fumble.
“See? I told you to take it off.”
“Hmmph.”
Unlike me, wobbling drunkenly, he calmly sipped his wine and set the glass down. Resting his chin on his arm, he just looked at me steadily.
Moonlight bloomed behind him as if he owned it. Beautiful. Even without knowing his face, I thought that.
Maybe it was just the alcohol.
“Right. Is loving just one person really all there is to life?”
“Of course not. If you only date one person, that’s not living.”
“My parents saiddd—you’re not supposed to date only one person in lifeee!”
“Your parents were wise.”
“Exactly! And that’s not the only important thing!”
“Then what? What’s more important?”
“My lifeee—if I don’t fix those rumors, my lifeee—!”
“Yeah, your life.”
As we talked, I suddenly noticed how relaxed his posture was. Wanting to sit like him, I lifted my left leg—
—and missed the edge of the fountain.
Huh?
Too drunk to balance, my body swayed. I might actually smash my head on the ground. I squeezed my eyes shut in horror.
“Seriously. When I’m with you, I can’t let my guard down.”
A large hand caught me swiftly, wrapping gently around my waist.
Blinking, I found him even closer than before. His relieved breath tickled my lips.
“See? I told you to take it off, Philena.”
My eyes widened. He knew my name? Did I drunkenly blurt it out? Or give too many hints? A flood of thoughts hit me, but I forced myself to keep a poker face.
“Stop biting, Philena.”
He called my name so tenderly, reminding me it wasn’t a hallucination. The alcohol fog vanished, my senses sharpened—and then, suddenly, a memory filled my mind.
—Nice to meet you.
I remembered who he was.
When I was eighteen, waiting outside for Whistler, a man had shown up who looked nothing like Whistler’s description.
—Your name’s Philena, right? I’ve heard a lot about you. You’re cuter than I expected.
Careful hands, a cool touch cupped my cheek. His slender fingers slid along the strap of my mask—and pulled it off.
“Wha—what?”
My vision widened. At the same time, he smoothly removed his own mask.
“Want to date me, Philena?”
He was none other than Herace Gray—the heir of the Gray family, and Whistler Gas’s older brother.
In other words, the male lead’s older brother, Herace.
Even though I was sure I had closed the window, the birds were unbearably noisy. Their chirping rattled in my skull today.
These memories… must’ve been buried by the alcohol yesterday.
One by one, vivid scenes resurfaced, uninvited. Yesterday, it had all felt fine, but in the clarity of sobriety, I realized I’d crossed far too many lines.
Embarrassment wasn’t the issue. I needed to apologize the next time I saw him.
Was it because his face looked like an angel’s statue, that I kept confessing everything? His face really was statue-like.
Herace—he deserved the title of a “next-generation face genius.” Sharp but firm jawline, refined aura contrasting his frame, full lips and dimples when he smiled.
He was handsome. Truly. So much so that I’d want to be born with that face in my next life. A face I’d never tire of seeing.
“Young Lady? …Young Lady?! Younng! Laa-dyy!”
Clara pulled back the covers to serve me breakfast. I sluggishly crawled up to sit on the bed.
“A sloth like you walked a thousand steps yesterday—heavens must be collapsing! Naturally, you’ll have to do it again today. You can do it!”
Amid her fuss, I began eating breakfast: eggs, corn bread, and a cup of hot tea.
Just as I was finishing, clink! My spoon slipped from my fingers.
“Huh?”
One scene from last night rose sharply in my mind.
—Want to date me?
If I’d been in my right mind, I would’ve refused instantly. But that night, I’d been particularly depressed, angry.
And Herace had been handsome, warm, offering his hand—like a sculpted angel, like the son of my divine Mother.
—Mm, fine! Let’s date!!
My face went pale. Clara gasped at my expression.
“Young Lady! Did yesterday’s thousand steps tire you out that much?”
“……”
“Or—don’t tell me—it’s like in that romance novel I recommended, where Grayson’s daughter turns out to actually be James’s daughter?!”
And in a daze, I asked:
“…If Grayson’s daughter isn’t James’s daughter, then whose daughter is she supposed to be?”
