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Chapter 6
For the past few days, I had read more than I ever had in my entire life. I buried myself in romance novels, while Clara kept stopping by to check if I had any crime novels.
At the moment, I was riding in a carriage toward the meeting place. That didn’t mean I had neglected my preparations.
“This should do.”
I reviewed the sheet of paper where I had written down rules that seemed like they’d be effective.
First, the protagonist usually has only one best friend.
“Well, I only have one pen pal friend, so check.”
Second, that best friend is usually loud and well-informed about all the gossip in town. Probably because the atmosphere comes alive when there’s someone who reacts well.
“I’ve never even met my anonymous pen pal friend, so I don’t know about that, but if I act in front of someone who reacts strongly, it should work.”
Fortunately, I knew a few nobles who were good at making a fuss.
Third, protagonists don’t get along when they first meet. Honestly, I think that’s the key point. If I show myself quarreling with Heraith at the upcoming Saintess Selection Ceremony, that should do it.
“Whether he follows the scenario or not, at least he’ll cooperate that much.”
Heraith Gray. To be honest, he was still a mystery to me.
Just a few days ago—
—Let’s cheat on each other.
—Otherwise, it’s boring.
The reason I had come out today was also because of Heraith. Whether it was cheating or revenge, there had to be a set time frame for how long I’d invest in it.
‘My real revenge target is Whistler, after all.’
Even if I wanted revenge, I didn’t want to cling forever to something impossible. As realistic as I was, the chances were slim, but having a plan B was always better.
So, for the first time in my life, I was going to ask my pen pal friend for advice.
“We’ve arrived.”
When I stepped down from the carriage, my appearance stood out. This wasn’t an ordinary meeting, so I was wrapped up tightly in fabric.
I wore a veil and even covered the lower half of my face. Wearing a veil was common, but hiding one’s mouth was rare, and there was no rule about covering one’s eyes—yet I covered them all.
The coachman, who had been observing me, looked uneasy.
“Young lady, don’t go doing anything bad.”
Clara must have told him something.
“These aren’t even expensive clothes.”
“That’s not what I meant…”
“I can reuse them. And besides, books said this is how you’re supposed to dress if you want to hide your identity.”
That’s right—I had dressed according to what I read in novels. But despite my reassurance, the coachman’s face had gone pale, like he had seen a ghost.
Seems like everyone around me has high anxiety. I should recommend meditation to them.
Inside the temple, I looked up at the statue of Lady Cynthia. Beautiful men and women surrounded Mother’s figure.
‘It really does look like Heraith.’
Though the statue was made first, so technically Heraith resembled the statue. Still, unlike before, I was seeing it with different eyes now.
“Mother, you liked younger men, didn’t you.”
Oops. That was dangerous. That comment was definitely disrespectful. I must’ve broken my brain from reading too many romance novels lately.
“Lady Cynthia, forgive me. Please pardon my foolishness.”
Still, it was kind of a fresh thought. Most interpretations said the figures around her were her sons, daughters, saints, priestesses, or clerics.
“Lady Cynthia, it’s me, Philena, here to pray again today. My prayer is the same as always: please make the male lead Whistler impotent, and save me, a supporting extra, from dying.”
After finishing my prayer, I wandered near the rainbow-colored light from the stained glass, then sat down in the very front row.
From the row behind me, I sensed a cautious presence. It was my friend—or rather, the pen pal I had never once met in person.
I cleared my throat and deliberately lowered my voice.
“Nice to meet you, Melissa.”
“Nice to meet you too!”
I had to make sure she didn’t discover I was Philena. If she ran away, I’d lose not only a chance at advice but also the social practice partner I needed.
No matter what anyone said, I knew my weaknesses well. I lacked social skills and wasn’t good at adapting to sudden changes.
That might have been fine before, but now—if I wanted to survive—I had to practice and develop those abilities.
‘Because my life is on the line.’
Of course, I had already given a reasonable explanation for hiding my face. I told her I was too shy, so I wanted to keep some distance.
“Was the journey here alright?”
For reference, beginner’s language textbooks were most useful for preparing greetings. Hi, how are you. I’m fine, thank you, and you?
“Yes! Other than tripping a little because I was so excited, it was fine. Isn’t it amazing how fate works?”
I gave a small nod.
Our bond had begun with a single letter.
On one rare miracle of a walk—since I was always a homebody—I found a letter. It was torn and crumpled, and usually I would’ve just passed it by. But that day, seeing over ten pages of such heartfelt writing, I couldn’t leave it behind.
Maybe it was because I happened to be reading The Meaning of Letters at the time.
‘Letters don’t require showing your face or revealing your identity, so I figured it would be fine.’
After much thought, I wrote to the return address. At first, I had considered asking Clara to write it for me, but she urged me to take this chance to make a friend—and even lent me her name.
When starting this relationship, I avoided lying about personal details or appearance as much as possible. The only thing I borrowed was Clara’s name.
What I thought would last just one or two exchanges surprisingly continued all the way until today.
“Was there a special reason you wanted to meet?”
Melissa asked cautiously. Since I usually avoided personal topics, she must have been surprised that I asked to meet.
“There is a reason. I hope we can meet a few more times like this.”
“I’d love that!”
“I’ve been cooped up at home too much, so I think I need to work on my social and conversational skills. This will be a good opportunity.”
I disguised an invitation to social gatherings as simply being invited to a group meeting.
“I’m happy if I can help. I just came up from the countryside recently, so I don’t have many friends.”
“I’m glad it’s mutually beneficial.”
A relationship where both sides gain something can last long and stay healthy. Maybe today, I finally found a lifelong friend.
“I heard friends are supposed to share their worries.”
“My ears are always open! Go on, tell me!”
“I had a boyfriend.”
“I had no idea! You had a boyfriend?”
“But he cheated on me.”
“Son of a b*tch! What a rotten bastard!”
Her harsh language made my eyes widen. I had sensed it earlier, but Melissa was much bolder than I had imagined.
Trying to stay calm in the face of her fiery reaction, I explained further.
“My boyfriend did something unethical, so I was going to break up with him. But my friend suggested we cheat back instead. He said revenge would be more fun than just breaking up.”
This was the moment where Melissa’s opinion mattered most.
“I agreed that revenge was necessary. But looking at it rationally, the odds of success are low. His social standing is higher than mine.”
“Social standing, my ass! What, is he some noble or something?!”
He was a noble, but I couldn’t say that. Melissa thought I was a commoner, which meant in her eyes, he and I were on equal footing.
“There’s a vague difference. That’s why I wonder: how long should I keep at this revenge? Shouldn’t I limit it to, say, one or two months?”
Silence fell. Then I heard her chair creak as she leaned in, voice firm.
“As long as it takes—you chase him to the ends of hell!”
“Isn’t devoting your whole life to revenge the same as throwing it away? Like being an alcoholic?”
“Of course not! That’s a completely different thing! You’ve got to push it to the end!!”
“Do you really think so?”
“Absolutely! And if you’re worried, just look at revenge from another angle. Don’t obsess over it every day—just decide that someday, you’ll do it. In these situations, the real way to win is to become someone so much greater than him that the game ends. If you succeed more than he ever does, he’ll regret everything!”
“So in the end, if I succeed beyond him, that counts as revenge?”
“Exactly! If I’m living a better life than that bastard, then I’ve won. He’ll see the person he lost to his own stupidity doing better than him, and he’ll regret it for sure.”
Melissa’s passionate voice rang out behind me.
“Anyway, the answer is revenge—revenge! Even if it’s not cheating back, we’ll make him miserable and succeed on our own! Think long-term. Take it slow if you must, because the thrill at the end will be worth it.”
