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Chapter 74
Daniel came in and shut the dining hall door. Riana had attended the Knights’ Club a few times—she knew the last person in always closed it.
“What is this.”
She lifted her chin and spoke up. All eyes turned to her. Silence spread, and Riana blurted the real question:
“Where’s Cece?”
“Cece isn’t coming?”
She scraped back her chair and stood, scanning the room. No Cece anywhere.
Daniel spoke quietly. “Um… Cece took the day off…”
Poke. A club member elbowed Daniel, like talking to Riana would get him in trouble. Daniel clamped his mouth, looking sorry—then the door banged open.
Riana’s eyes whipped over. Cece?
She wanted to meet her—more exactly, she wanted to find X.
She needed a new variable.
That’s why she’d waited and waited—
“Everyone! Breaking news!”
Not Cece.
Right. If she took leave, she’s probably not even inside the castle.
Riana gave up and reached for her orange juice—
“The Postb bulletin just pushed a breaking item and guess what—!”
The maid who burst in went chalk-white the moment she saw Riana and fell silent.
“What? What is it?” Mrs. Baker marched over and snatched the paper.
Her face went pale too as she read. Her eyes twitched, then fixed on Riana.
“Why me…?”
Riana’s cup halted at her lips. She looked between them both.
The shiny white sheet tugged at her gaze like a magnet.
No missing this.
Jaw tight, Riana pressed her forehead.
She’d finally landed the “leading role”—and of all places, in the Postb.
…Crap.
Back in the Isolation Tower, Riana sat at her desk and did Lamaze breathing to steady herself.
A crumpled Postb sheet was in her hand.
“Haa…”
It didn’t erase the dread, but she couldn’t avoid reading forever.
All right. Let’s see it.
She spread it flat—then a sharp scream ripped through the maids’ room.
“What iiiis thiiis!”
No—calm down. Breathe. Again.
Forcing her breathing even, she reread from the headline.
Shock… Killian Droche’s promiscuous love life?
The “Most Eligible Bachelor of Diares Society,” the shared first love of our social scene—the Duke of Droche’s private life is on the chopping block.
Known for inventions as skillful as his way with women, his newest “research project” appears to be polygamy.
The two women under his arms are Company employee Miss D and maid Miss R. The ducal castle is said to be in an uproar over their fight for the main-wife seat.
Unlike Miss D, a lady of an old noble house, Miss R is a commoner of unknown family, raised in an orphanage—sure to shock high society.
Worried about the Droche heir’s bloodline? In this writer’s view, whichever side wins, the family’s long tradition of beauty is safe.
Between a “proper” noble match and the sensual pull of a charming commoner, all eyes are on the Duke’s choice. How did a palate tuned to fine brandy enjoy its first taste of rum?
Careful, Your Grace. Cheap liquor is strong—and addictive.
→ To be continued.
Riana tried to spin it positive.
At least my actual name isn’t printed. People won’t jump straight to “Riana,” right?
Of course, anyone inside the ducal castle would in one second.
…They did call me a “charming commoner.” That’s… a compliment?
Even if they then compared her to cheap booze.
It’s all lies, but not the worst slander. And they didn’t expose what I did to Deborah—thank goodness.
Though they did promise a follow-up, so no relaxing.
“…Forget positivity. This is the worst!”
She almost shredded the paper, then stopped.
She’d just been officially declared the heroine’s rival. Truth didn’t matter—people would believe the label.
What happens if the prince sees this?
Maybe the old threats would return, names swapped—Gray out, Killian in.
Then a truly “positive” idea flashed.
“Right—Killian!”
He’d clear this up fast on his own, wouldn’t he? If not, he loses!
If you’re going to be stuck in a mess, get stuck with someone powerful. Then you can share in the cover-ups and strong-arming.
Cackling like an old-school villainess, Riana left the maids’ room.
Knock, knock.
She waited a beat, then opened the office door—tea tray in one hand, the rolled Postb in the other.
“I don’t recall calling for you,” Killian said, a little startled—his voice edged.
“Sorry. I figured you were about to, so I came prepared.”
For a workaholic, Killian kept a regular tea schedule; this was around that time.
Instead of arguing, he set down his pen and sighed low.
“I had no intention of calling today. But since it’s here, I’ll drink it. Bring it.”
His voice was still blade-sharp, his face taut—more than simple work fatigue.
Riana set the cup on the desk and eased in:
“I think the reason you weren’t going to call… is the same as why I came first. Am I wrong?”
His eyes went to the paper in her hand. He made a small sound, rubbed his brow, tired.
“You saw it too, Miss Riana?”
“Just now. Is this room soundproof? My reaction was pretty loud.”
“I heard your scream. I thought it was a spider.”
“As if I’d be scared of a spider. I’m not a child.”
She snorted. His face stayed stiff.
“Don’t tell me you’re afra—”
“I apologize for the Postb mess,” he cut in fast.
Riana almost smiled, then straightened—okay, serious topic.
“I’m sorry you got dragged into this because of me,” he said. “If you hadn’t been linked to me, you wouldn’t be dealing with it.”
Riana nodded. “Right. Which is why I think you will fix it.”
“Tomorrow I’ll release an official statement—loud enough that anyone who believes a third-rate tabloid will look like a fool.”
As expected: biggest shareholder, top-tier power.
Riana’s eyes brightened. “Could you… just take down Postb itself while you’re at it?”
“To be honest, they’ve hurt the company a few times. We’ve been tracking them. But they’re scrupulously anonymous; hard to catch.”
“I see…”
So: not happening. If he could, he’d have done it already.
Even as a transmigrator, Postb is weird.
She was the one who’d brought the word “Postb” into this world at all. Before that, it didn’t exist—then suddenly, a strange paper appeared. If it’s tied to transmigration or “the original story,” one character alone probably can’t beat it.
Cosmic-scale conspiracy.
Her shoulders drooped. Killian’s voice wrapped gently around her ear:
“Even so, I promise you this part: I’ll make it go away quickly.”
Flat tone, plain words—but she believed him.
Right. He might not kill Postb, but he could smother the gossip. That is something a male lead can do.
Riana beamed. “Thank you for doing that for me.”
Killian’s face eased; he joked, “So you can keep that head you like so much.”
“Isn’t it you who likes it? Love at first sight and all.”
“Ha—”
What came out was a cold little snort. She clicked her tongue inwardly.
Really? Not even pretending anymore?
It felt like a brief truce in their endless loop of flimflam vs. stonewalling.
In times like these, acting like before would just toss fresh meat into Postb’s jaws.
Put the “love potion” plan on hold, too, she decided.
Gray had gone AWOL—so the project’s survival was in doubt anyway.
