Chapter 14
Maylily
I decided to meet the Empress first before setting up an appointment with Lady Rodvalt. After that, I parted ways with Chedorn and Argan.
A few days later, I paid a visit to the Alpine Newspaper. And when I say my visit turned the place upside down, I’m not exaggerating—though anyone who heard it might think I was.
I was sitting across from the editor-in-chief, and from outside his office came the sound of quite a commotion.
The young chief looked embarrassed at the noise of his employees buzzing beyond the door.
“It seems the staff are excited that Lady Rubiche herself would grace such a humble place.”
Excited? More like curious. It wasn’t unpleasant, but neither was it the kind of attention that felt good.
The man sitting at his desk—probably in his early thirties, with neatly slicked dark-blue hair—was watching me with curiosity.
“So, to what do we owe this visit…? Ah, forgive me. I’m Editor-in-Chief Herred.”
He extended a polite hand toward me. I placed my gloved hand on his, and he gently brushed his lips over my knuckles.
A gesture that never fails to make me uncomfortable. Then again, if I had to kiss his hand, I’d be even more disgusted.
“I suppose you already know who I am, so let’s skip introductions.”
When I replied with a light smile, Herred chuckled awkwardly, mirroring me.
“I came to submit a serialized novel.”
I untied the string of the brown paper envelope in my hands and pulled out a stack of papers.
“A serialized novel?”
He narrowed his eyes, as if trying to assess me.
It was understandable. A noble lady suddenly shows up at a newspaper, saying she wants to submit a serialized story? Of course, he’d doubt it.
“Yes. I understand Mr. Dernard’s long-running novel is about to end soon. I’d like you to run mine as the next serial.”
Herred’s expression froze again, looking somewhat troubled.
“Oh, and by the way, I read your interview with Lady Serinne. As well as that defamation piece about Crown Prince Reynold. Very well written.”
I said it evenly, smiling faintly. His face went stiff.
He must have thought I was here to throw my noble weight around—or to defend my family’s name, or worse, to drag Crown Prince Reynold himself here for a scandalous scene.
But I wasn’t that clueless, and Herred was far too transparent for his position.
“Don’t worry. I didn’t come here to assign blame. I have no intention of clarifying any rumors about me.”
At that, Herred’s face visibly relaxed.
“So, the only thing you want is for us to serialize this novel?”
Herred looked skeptical again.
“Well, if I had to ask for more, maybe a short interview after the story finishes. But I assure you, it’s a great read. The quality—I can personally guarantee it.”
After all, I was a writer. Before becoming a television writer for sensational variety shows, I’d made my debut as a short-story author after winning a new writers’ contest.
For this piece, I did get help from my language tutor for certain idiomatic phrasing, but the story itself was entirely my own work.
“‘The Man of Friederica’… Is this ‘Friederica’ supposed to be Lady Serinne?”
Friederica Anne Serinne—that was her full name.
The novel I’d brought was a serialized piece filled with dramatic twists—loosely based on her current scandal.
Of course, to avoid accusations of royal defamation from Prince Verdi’s side, I’d altered the names and some of the circumstances—except for the name ‘Friederica,’ which just happened to coincide.
When Herred read the title on the front page, his brows furrowed. I widened my eyes in mock surprise and covered my mouth.
“Oh my, what a coincidence! But look—the family name is different.”
“…I see.”
Herred tilted his head, then began flipping through the manuscript. Soon, he was so engrossed he seemed to forget I was sitting there.
After a while, when the tea had long gone cold, he suddenly exclaimed—
“What is this?! Lady Serinne had another man besides Prince Verdi?”
I feigned confusion.
“I told you already—it’s not about Lady Serinne. If you look again, it’s Prince Victor, not Verdi. It’s fiction.”
“Ah. Right. Of course…”
Herred muttered dumbly. I smiled in satisfaction.
“Do you have the next chapter? You can’t just stop here!”
He was practically pleading.
“How is it? Feels like it could stir up quite a storm, doesn’t it?”
I watched quietly as he ran through a mental cost-benefit analysis.
It would give him a headache, sure—but he knew it’d be a huge hit.
“By the way, have you heard? Batos Daily has been rising fast lately. The Kenzis Trading Company funds them now, and they’re doing very well. Didn’t Kenzis used to invest in Alpine until last year?”
At that, Herred quickly pulled out a contract, a quill, and an inkwell, thrusting them toward me.
“Let’s make a deal.”
After carefully reviewing the contract, I said,
“I’ll use a pen name.”
His face lit up eagerly.
“Of course. What name will you use?”
“‘Kaden.’”
Kaden—rumor had it that was the real name of Lady Serinne’s secret lover. A bourgeois commoner, supposedly working as an imperial civil servant.
That should be enough to stir up plenty of talk.
Herred’s eyes sparkled. He definitely caught my intention.
After all, a tangled mess involving Prince Verdi and his fiancée, Crown Prince Reynold and the lady he was rumored to pine for—Lady Rubiche—was the kind of spectacle that no paper, not even Batos, could resist.
Once the contract was signed, I left the building in a light mood. But before I could make it to the carriage, a young reporter ran after me, panting.
“E-excuse me! I have something to ask you.”
A short-haired man, clearly out of breath, looked up at me desperately.
“Please, help my colleague.”
“…What?”
“I heard His Highness Reynold is quite fond of you.”
And that’s where Chedorn’s name was about to come up, apparently.
“My colleague didn’t write that article out of malice. He was ordered to.”
“Wait. That article? What article are you talking about?”
“The one that slandered you! His Highness Reynold had the reporter, Eleanor, fired for it.”
“What?”
“You didn’t know?”
This time, he looked startled.
“I’m sorry, but could you explain the whole situation in detail?”
Relieved, perhaps, that I seemed willing to listen, he launched into a long, breathless account. It sounded a little exaggerated, but most of it rang true.
So, to sum up—Chedorn had somehow maneuvered things so that the reporter spreading lies about me was dismissed.
…Which was quite a useful card to keep in my pocket.
I took the round-haired reporter’s business card before leaving.
The Man of Friederica became a nationwide sensation—so much so that even noblemen were reading it, not just ladies.
In high society, it got to the point where if you hadn’t read The Man of Friederica, you couldn’t join a conversation. It became a full-on trend.
I’d expected success—but not this much. It was honestly a bit overwhelming.
According to Herred, the Alpine Newspaper was flooded daily with letters and calls asking, “Who is Kaden?”
“Lady Rubiche, have you read The Man of Friederica?”
As I was organizing my locker at the academy, Armand came running up, waving a newspaper in excitement.
“It’s just so good! I’ve never read anything like it. How does someone even come up with this kind of plot?”
Ah, yes. Korean makjang dramas—still the world’s best. I nodded inwardly, satisfied.
“But seriously, doesn’t the main character sound exactly like Lady Serinne? And there’s actually a civil servant named Kaden working in the royal administration!”
Now that the novel was a mega-hit, I didn’t even have to lift a finger. The fans themselves started digging up information about Lady Serinne’s supposed real-life counterpart.
“It is entertaining,” I said with a faint, knowing smile.
Armand gave me a suspicious glance.
“Lady Rubiche, you don’t happen to know this Kaden writer personally, do you?”
I only smiled in reply. She blinked—then grinned. Clearly, she thought I was Kaden, or at least had brought the writer into the spotlight myself.
“As expected of you, Lady Rubiche! Leave it to me—I’ll promote this novel everywhere!”
Armand clenched her fists with excitement.
Not that she needed to. The novel was already a wildfire—but if she wanted to add more fuel, I certainly wasn’t going to stop her.
Chedorn came to the Rubiche estate one day, so I quickly called him into the study.
“Help you with what?”
He blinked slowly, clearly puzzled. I raised both hands and mimed cutting with scissors.
“You were always good at making flashy edits, right? I want you in on this.”
“Flashy edits? Who, me?”
He pointed at himself, and I nodded.
Back in our old world, PD Cha Dohyuk was famous for sensational editing on Erasing Your Dark Past: The Eraser Road, a show that skyrocketed in ratings after its pilot episode.
It became so popular that celebrities would volunteer to reveal their scandals just to appear on it.
“So what exactly are you trying to do?”
He leaned casually against the desk beside me, glancing down at my face.
“I want to flip my reputation.”
I pulled out a stack of papers I’d tucked between exam sheets and handed it to him.
“I drafted a pretty good concept proposal. Want to read it?”
As he skimmed through it, his expression turned strange.
“What the—Is this Korean?”
“Perfect for keeping things secret, isn’t it? We’re the only two who can still read Korean here.”
When I said that with a wry smile, his face stiffened slightly. And from that look, I realized—he couldn’t read it perfectly anymore.
“You’ve forgotten it?”
“Not completely. But I’ve lost a lot of the words. My memory’s patchy.”
He put the papers down on the desk and opened his fountain pen, circling several terms.
“These words—I don’t remember what they mean. Explain them to me.”
The way he looked at me—so focused, so intent—it sent a little thrill through me.
PD Cha Dohyuk, asking me for help.
So I happily launched into an enthusiastic explanation, going over the Korean and the proposal’s key points in detail.
“So basically, you’re suggesting we use the Alpine Newspaper for this media play.”
“You’ve always been good with press manipulation.”
[Who, me?]
He said it—in Korean this time.
His wide-eyed expression was strangely endearing.
[Yes, you.]
I replied in Korean too—maybe a little curtly, but not intentionally so.
After all, in this foreign world full of Western faces, I was the one who truly didn’t belong.
“And I, for one, happen to be excellent at stirring up attention.”
“Yeah, the little hedgehog’s good at that, I’ll give you that. But tell me—why go this far? Is this revenge against the people who trashed your reputation?”
“PD-nim, your perspective’s too narrow. You think it’s just about revenge? No. It’s about visibility. Raising my profile. I won’t let a few pieces of gossip define me—that’s pathetic.”
I wagged my finger with a sly smile, and Chedorn just laughed, shaking his head in disbelief.
