The Doll Has a Name Chapter 14 - Recruitment Ad

Competitive society. High-pressure interview.

 

Just moments ago, I thought I was merely sitting at a negotiable table, but now it felt like I had been abruptly handed a rifle and thrust onto the frontline as a private.

 

Realizing it was better to stay even more alert, Kise flashed a smile as bright as spring cherry blossoms at the departing woman.

 

“Does that mean you think I’m pretty? Thank you. I did my makeup well, didn’t I? Good job, me! Proud of you, made-up me!”

 

She threw out hollow bravado, soothing her barren nerves before striking a power pose for a few seconds. Then, with a firm push, she opened the office door.

 

“Pardon my intrusion.”

 

Moving each foot as silently as if she were stepping on feathers, she kept her gaze angled slightly downward and slipped inside, opening the door just wide enough for her body to pass through.

 

Then—chin down, hands poised, body lowered in a respectful bow.

 

This, Kise thought proudly, is the epitome of submissive courtesy. She demonstrated textbook-perfect etiquette.

 

“Please, come in.”

 

A man’s voice followed—the company’s owner.

 

Drawn by his tone, Kise’s gaze slowly lifted.

 

“Leonhardt Moent, representative of Marée Société.”

 

Her eyes moved like stepping stones between the objects decorating the room.

 

Beneath the high ceiling lay an exotic, patterned carpet. Upon it, antique rosewood furniture defined the space’s purpose, while fragrant beeswax candles atop silver candlesticks dominated the air.

 

The ticking of a gilded clock pendulum sharpened her sense of urgency.

 

‘Magnificent!’

 

Amid the opulence crafted by wealth, Kise met a man. 

 

Surrounded as if by their escorts, he stood waiting for her, leaning slightly against the desk. When he gave a slight smile as if to welcome her, Kise finally noticed his sharp, golden eyes.

 

Beautiful, yet holding a twisted authority.

 

If there was a moment worth recording in the vivid memory of a first impression, it was now. She straightened her posture even more, bracing herself.

 

“I’m Kise Ohara. It’s an honor to meet you.”

 

“The honor is mine. Please, this way.”

 

Leonhardt guided Kise to the tea table near the window. Stepping ahead, he smoothly pulled out a chair for her.

 

“Make yourself comfortable.”

 

Wait, hold on. Is he seriously telling me to sit on a chair pulled out by the interviewer?

 

Kise deliberately didn’t hide her bewildered expression—let him sense her confusion. But Leonhardt, seemingly unfazed, simply gestured for her to sit with an insistent look.

 

For a moment, he almost seemed to smile. 

 

No, he definitely smiled. His golden irises had softened in an instant, warm like a field of ripe wheat.

 

What kind of game is this?

 

She had expected a ruthless interviewer who’d strip her down to her soul, but instead, here was the company owner embodying the epitome of a gentleman. 

 

This was an unpredictable twist.

 

“Thank you.”

 

She wanted to firmly refuse—No, thanks!—but she reminded herself of her position here as the subordinate and sat down as directed. The chair slid smoothly into place.

 

Clack, clack— 

 

The sound of dress shoes echoed as he pulled out the chair opposite her. His soft, wine-colored hair swayed slightly.

 

The same shade as red wine swirling in a glass.

 

Would the description of soft red hair even fit? But it was true. 

 

When he tilted his head slightly, his bangs swept to one side of his forehead. Definitely soft.

He’s handsome.

 

‘Handsome is good. There’s no downside to being handsome. Not lying about that.’ 

 

The man who introduced himself as the head of this place was refined, neat, and yes—handsome. He had a remarkably handsome face, possessing all the desirable traits that human society could expect from a man.

 

However, after seeing that face multiple times and building immunity, and after frequently exchanging words to grow accustomed, she concluded that she would eventually be able to maintain objectivity and offer a cool-headed description and evaluation.

 

As Leonhardt casually flipped through the stack of pre-submitted resumes and cover letters to find her name, he lightly asked, as if airing a passing thought:

 

“By the way, what’s with the bouquet? I’ve been curious since earlier.”

 

His voice was pleasant too. He seemed completely unaware that the item might have been brought as a gift for him.

 

Kise smiled inwardly, then gracefully handed over the bouquet, exuding an alluring charm.

 

“A gift for you, señor. Flowers bring life to a space.”

 

You gave me unpredictability—now I return the favor. Bet you didn’t see flowers coming, did you?

 

To reiterate, Kise was a noble lady—no, the baby-doll of a noble lady—raised in a prestigious marquisate, thoroughly educated in high-class aristocratic traditions.

 

Flowers were her specialty. 

 

In short, this was a gift crafted by an expert’s touch.

 

If he took it as a bribe, he’d be an amateur. But if he grasped the hidden meaning, he might see her as a clever candidate. Kise neatly folded her hands on her lap.

 

“…”

 

Leonhardt paused, studying her face intently for a moment. Just as she hoped, he looked thoroughly surprised.

 

But it didn’t last. As if it never happened, he soon relaxed and curved his lips.

 

“A bouquet… for a man.”

 

…How thrilling. His voice was soft, laced with amusement.

 

“This isn’t a love confession, is it?”

 

“Of course not. But I do hope to see you often—daily, for a long time.”

 

‘So hire me!’

 

Pink Lisianthus, purple iris. Interpretations may vary, but flowers carry meanings of their own.

As he gazed at the smooth curves of Kise’s eyes and lips, Leonhardt found himself smiling even more deeply.

 

‘Lisianthus, Iris…’

 

This was likely the first bouquet he had ever received in his life. A first in his life—a monumental event. It would feel disappointing to simply accept it and move on as if it were nothing.

 

Scrambling through his thoughts and stubbornly piecing together words, Leonhardt finally managed to interpret the meaning behind this romantic gift.

 

“You’ve been through so much. May your business continue to thrive, and… please look favorably upon me.”

 

He let out a soft chuckle.

 

🫧

 

The time it took for the distance between them to close—with the offering of the bouquet—was neither short nor long. 

 

But in that brief moment, Leonhardt had studied Kise’s face in great detail.

 

He had thought her strikingly beautiful at first glance, yet there was something oddly familiar about her, something mysteriously captivating. 

 

As he pondered the reason, his gaze met her deep blue eyes, which had been fixed intently on him, and—Ah!—a small realization dawned on him.

 

Eyes like churning waves of deep indigo. Not sky-blue, but dark and heavy like the ocean. There were many blue-eyed people in the world, but theirs were always clear and radiant—never as wild and chilling as hers.

 

That particular shade of blue was the one Leonhardt loved most—the heart of the sea, a color only found after sailing through storms and conquering fierce waves.

 

Not the soft pastel tones of coastal waters, but the merciless whirlpools raging in the heart of the open ocean. 

 

The very same terrifying waves that had threatened to swallow him whole, making his heart race every time he ventured into the deep sea—those waves now filled her eyes.

 

‘So that’s why she felt familiar.’

 

He found comfort in the familiar and the intimate. The small black dot on the tip of Kise’s nose, like a planted seed, and her cascading black hair that rippled down past her chest, accentuated the vivid impression of the sea.

She was like a woman sculpted by the ocean and sent ashore.

 

‘Mysterious, but it suits her.’

 

Leonhardt felt an unexpected warmth at this unplanned impression and smiled faintly, careful not to let it show.

“Amphitrite.”

Like a goddess of the sea, he mused silently. But his words were too quiet for her to hear.

 

Kise brushed the hair covering her ear behind it, gesturing for him to repeat himself. But Leonhardt had no intention of doing so. 

 

Masking his thoughts beneath a polite smile, he offered instead, “Would you like some tea?”

 

His manners were impeccable. Though his background was unclear, Kise thought to herself that he must have received an exceptional upbringing. 

 

Still, she remained wary, careful not to be swayed by the gentle yet commanding authority that radiated from his kind smile.

 

Leonhardt selected the tea leaves with practiced ease, steeping them skillfully before pouring the brew into an exquisite cup.

Such service for a job applicant. 

 

The red liquid flowed, carrying a sweet apple fragrance that filled her nose—a flavored tea.

 

Waiting for the tea to cool to the perfect temperature, Kise took a graceful sip, maintaining her poised demeanor.

“This is Marie’s black tea.”

“It helps soothe the nerves,” Leonhardt replied with a slight nod before shifting his gaze back to her resume.

 

Scanning the sparse document, he made light remarks like, “No prior experience, but quite proficient in foreign languages, I see?” or “Being from Haven, you must be well-versed in aristocratic tastes.”

Then, as he skimmed through her self-introduction, his lips twitched intermittently the entire time.

 

What’s so funny? It’s based on facts, she thought.

 

Kise pretended to sip her tea while keeping an eye on Leonhardt.

Even as she did, while he was looking over the documents, she silently mouthed tongue-twisting sentences, practicing them repeatedly. 

 

Precise pronunciation would make her seem more trustworthy.

 

After a while, Leonhardt neatly placed two sheets of paper on the table.

“It says here that you lost your parents early and grew up in someone else’s household.”

“Yes, I endured their scorn for eighteen years there.”

“So your ability to read people is top-tier.”

“That’s correct. I can sense what someone wants or intends as easily as breathing. Surviving eighteen years in another’s home without being mistreated requires an extraordinary sense of perception.”

 

For a newcomer, there was no more attractive quality than sharp intuition. By emphasizing this part of her background, Kise was declaring herself the ultimate people-reader.

Someone who could pick up on unspoken moods and undercurrents—that was the first step to becoming a merchant.

 

His interpretation of the situation was fresh. Leonhardt, looking amused, asked a few more questions.

“You listed one of your strengths as using time efficiently. Can you give a specific example?”

“Is it alright if it’s from when I was younger?”

“That’s fine.”

“Well, when I was little, there was a tutor at home. During summer break, classes would pause for a long time, and every time, the tutor would assign journaling as homework before leaving. So I’d stay up all night the day before and write three months’ worth of entries. I lived a single day like it was three months.”

 

While others lived one day as one day, she lived one day as three months. 

 

That was proof of stretching time and using it efficiently.

Thanks to that, she proudly explained, she could invest the remaining two months and twenty-nine days into developing skills others didn’t have time for.

 

A faint smile returned to Leonhardt’s face as he quietly listened. 

 

His eyes seemed to say, “Would you look at this one?”

 

“You wrote that your ‘exceptional management skills’ were honed through difficult experiences and overcoming them—what exactly does that mean?”

 

“Ah, that part.”

 

It was meant to highlight that she had navigated rough waters before arriving here. 

 

‘I am someone of great capability.’ Kise elaborated in a composed manner.

 

“The landlord I used to live with owned land. The estate was vast, and with so many tenant farmers working there, management became quite challenging. There were frequent disputes as well. Seeing how much it troubled the owner, I stepped in to resolve it—creating land registries and conducting a census.”

 

How big could a private landholding really be? 

 

The scale had to be limited. 

 

Leonhardt, seemingly unimpressed, asked, “What was the size of the estate?”