Chapter 14

The Villainess’s Happiness Theory

When I entered the boutique the boy had pointed out, a clerk welcomed us warmly.

After being guided to a seat, tea and desserts began arriving one after another.
I had barely finished my first cup of tea when a woman burst into the room.

She was panting, catching her breath before speaking.

“Welcome, Your Highness. I’m Madame Lys.”

Even though I hadn’t introduced myself, she already knew who I was.
For some reason, that made me feel oddly famous. Embarrassed, but not displeased.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Fiora Tiane de Daimon.”

The moment I said my name, Madame Lys murmured softly, “I knew it.”

“What brings you here today, Your Highness?”

Her question reminded me of the reason for my visit, and I quickly replied,
“I’d like to see some ball gowns and suits for children. Do you have any?”

“What are the children’s sizes?”

Ah. Right. I had no idea.

The kids were about nine, eight, six, and three years old—and they all seemed a bit taller than average—but without accurate measurements, they wouldn’t be able to wear the clothes properly on the night of the ball.

Before I could worry too much, Madame Lys spoke up. She was sharp—and clearly a savvy businesswoman.

As it turned out, she had once been an apprentice to a famous designer in the capital. For a while, she’d done extremely well, but lately, things hadn’t been going great. It wasn’t ball season, and even her regular customers had flocked to newly opened shops.

So when a Daimon Imperial Princess—me—walked into her store, Madame Lys could practically smell the jackpot. There was no way she was letting this chance slip away.

“Even if you don’t know their exact sizes, I can get them for you,” she said confidently.

She explained that one of her designer acquaintances had recently tailored outfits for the Child family’s young master and young lady.

Now that was a stroke of luck.

“Could you arrange that, then?”

At my permission, Madame Lys smiled radiantly. She hurried to fetch a sketchbook filled with design samples and spread it open before me. They were all lovely, but none of them matched the style I wanted.

“What kind of design do you have in mind?” she asked.

I recalled the gown I’d be wearing and sketched a quick outline for her.

“There’s not much time, but I’d like the children’s outfits to look like they belong with this one—as a matching set.”

But Lys waved her hands in the air and declared dramatically,
“Three days is more than enough!”

Considering the ball was in four days, that meant she knew exactly why I was ordering these clothes.

Wow. She even knows why I’m here. This woman’s going places. She really knows how to make money.

“Then I’ll leave it to you.”

“You mean you’d like them to have a similar overall feel to your gown, correct?”

I nodded, and she continued with a bright smile,
“And how much would you like to spend?”

I had no idea what the going rate was here. So, playing it safe, I handed her the pouch full of gold coins I’d brought.

Her eyes widened.

“Will this be enough?” I asked casually.

Her cheeks flushed pink, and her gaze locked onto the glittering gold.
Without hesitation, she accepted the pouch with both hands like it was sacred treasure.

“Of course! Leave everything to me!”

The moment I left the salon, Children suddenly snapped at me.
It was the first time he’d ever raised his voice at me, so I was honestly startled.

“Wasn’t that far too much, Your Highness?”

If even he thought so, then I must have seriously overpaid. Feeling a bit sheepish, I replied,
“Really? I’m still not familiar with Crescent’s currency rates.”

Children sighed deeply.

“The coins have similar values to those in Daimon. The prices are nearly the same. That amount was… excessive.”

Maybe I should have studied the economy before coming here. Oh well—too late now.

“Well, what’s spent is spent. Can’t be helped.”

He nodded, and we resumed walking leisurely through the town.

Then, a restaurant sign caught my eye.

“Lishule.”

The name was clearly modeled after a famous Korean restaurant I remembered.
And I knew this one too—from the original novel. It was said to be delicious.

It was a bit early for dinner, but the place was open and not too crowded.
Having skipped lunch, I was starving, so I didn’t hesitate to push open the door.

And then—an all-too-familiar voice greeted me.

“Your Highness?”

Oh no. The parent.

I almost said it out loud but managed to shut my mouth just in time.
Instead, I greeted him a beat later, trying to look composed.

“…Good afternoon, Duke.”

Now that I thought about it—if I remembered him even after skimming the original novel, it meant he must have appeared a lot. Which, in turn, meant the male or female lead probably came here often.

Ugh. Great. Just great. Why did I come here again?

I cried silently inside.

“It’s rather early. Are you here for dinner already?” he asked politely.

And why are you here so early, Duke?

Of course, I couldn’t say that out loud. I just nodded in reply.
Then Baridas extended his hand.

“Since fate has us meet here, would you care to join me?”

Refusing would’ve been rude, so I accepted his hand with a polite smile.
There weren’t many people around anyway. I figured I’d eat quickly and leave.

But that plan died as soon as the food arrived.

Because, one by one, more and more customers came in until the restaurant was full.

People started whispering and sneaking glances at us.

“Oh my, isn’t that…”
“Isn’t that Duke Child and Her Highness the Daimon Princess?”

I can’t breathe.

I’d never eaten under so much attention before.

Across from me, Baridas calmly sliced into his steak like nothing was happening.

Is this what it means to be a male lead—having skin thick enough to ignore everyone else?

He was utterly unbothered, clearly used to this kind of scrutiny.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, noticing my expression.

Yes, YOU are the problem, I wanted to say. But of course, I didn’t.
I just smiled awkwardly. “Nothing at all.”

Then I cut into my steak and took a bite.

Okay, fine. It was delicious. But I couldn’t enjoy it freely with all these eyes on us.
Trying to hide my discomfort, I focused on eating quietly.

He must’ve noticed something, though, because he asked,
“Does the food not suit your taste?”

No, Duke. You don’t suit my taste. The steak is perfect.

But again, I couldn’t say that. “No, it’s very good,” I replied with a forced smile.

“I’m glad to hear it,” he said.

Glad? I’m not!

Still, all irritation evaporated the moment dessert arrived.

It was an orange tart—and it was divine.

Crispy pastry, sweetly glazed jam, a hint of chocolate brushed across the surface—it was perfection.

Wow. Wow. Wow.

I kept internally screaming in joy. Honestly, this tart alone might be worth falling into this world for.

“It seems you like it,” Baridas remarked.

Oops. Guess my face gave me away. I quickly covered my mouth and smiled awkwardly.

“It’s… delicious…”

The kids would love this.

They went wild over anything sweet.

Maybe I should buy some to take home?

After a moment of hesitation, I asked,
“Could I get this to go? The children would really like it.”

Without missing a beat, Baridas rang the bell for the staff.

I thought he was calling to have some packed for the kids—but instead, he said something that made my eyes widen.

“Who’s the pâtissier who made this dessert?”

The restaurant’s manager hurried over, and they began talking.
The word salary floated into my ears.

Wait. No way.

Is he about to… throw money at the problem?

What, like—“My fiancée loves this tart! Bring that pâtissier to the ducal estate immediately!”
Was this actually happening?

Probably not because of me, but still.

But honestly—I wasn’t complaining. I love watching rich people spend money.
Go ahead, hire the pâtissier, make them bake a hundred tarts a day!

Watching other people splurge is the best kind of entertainment.

I eavesdropped eagerly as their discussion continued.
By the time they finished, the pâtissier had agreed to start working at the duke’s mansion tomorrow.

Ah, yes. That’s what being a chaebol heir looks like.
The male lead truly delivers.

When would I ever again get to witness such majestic money-throwing?

Sure, I’d just spent a lot on dresses—but that was shopping.
This was true extravagance.

I silently applauded Baridas in my mind.

After we finished our meal, we stepped outside to wait for our carriages.
Baridas’s carriage arrived first. Apparently, Children had already taken ours back to the duke’s mansion.

I held the small box of chocolate madeleines I’d bought for him close to my chest and climbed into Baridas’s carriage.

He followed shortly after, and the carriage began moving.
Then he noticed the box in my hands.

“What’s that?” he asked.

I opened the lid slightly to show him. “Madeleines.”

“For the children, I presume?”

“No, for Children.”

His expression grew a little strange.

…Did I say something wrong? I didn’t think so.

Then again, if I were in his shoes, I might not like it either.

Even if there were no feelings between us, he was still technically my fiancé.
Blatantly saying I’d bought something for another man—no matter how young—probably stung his pride.

So I quickly added,
“I just enjoy taking care of children.”

Don’t worry, fiancé-slash-parental-figure. I don’t see him as a man. He’s a baby. I won’t cheat. I’ll wait until after the annulment to date legally. Okay?

But instead of relaxing, Baridas’s expression grew even stiffer.

…What’s his problem now?

As I puzzled over it, I suddenly remembered.

Oh, right. His resting face was just naturally terrifying.

Those sharply angled brows and intense eyes made him look perpetually angry.

And come to think of it—he did have a sweet tooth.

Tough-looking guy, gentle palate. That kind of contrast.

So he wasn’t angry—he just wanted the madeleine.

“Would you like one?” I asked, offering the box.

His eyes flickered with unmistakable longing.

“But you said it was a gift,” he murmured.

“I realized the kids are probably asleep by now.”

It was barely past 8 p.m., but whatever.

Without hesitation, I unwrapped one madeleine, popped it into my mouth, then held out another for him.

“Here.”

He was twenty-three in the novel, right? Still basically a kid.
In my previous life, that was two years younger than me. Though here, technically, I was younger.

Wait… does that mean I could call him oppa?

No. That felt way too shameless. And honestly, I didn’t want to.

The madeleine was delicious, though.
Still, I couldn’t help feeling embarrassed for rambling earlier and making up excuses for no reason.

Maybe that stiff look earlier just meant, “So what?”

And with that realization, an overwhelming wave of secondhand embarrassment hit me.

So, so embarrassing.