The Doll Has a Name Chapter 19 - About Us

‘How many pages is this, really?’ 

 

The moment the weight of the thick bundle settled in her hands, Kise’s chest burned with excitement. She had never been the type to go crazy over money. 

 

But now that she was actually holding it, she had to admit—there was something uniquely satisfying about the feel of cash.

 

So this is why they say the best flavor in the world is the taste of money. 

 

Adrenaline surged through her.

 

“I’ll do my absolute best. You can trust me with anything.”

 

Words that had refused to come out earlier now spilled effortlessly from her lips as she dropped to her knees.

 

Before Kise’s radiant face—so dazzling it almost seemed to gather all the light in the world—Leonhardt clenched his jaw, fighting back a smile.

 

After packing up her courage, and possibly her liver and gallbladder, she switched gears in a flash. 

 

Truly, she was demonstrating the kind of social finesse expected of a newcomer. Her materialism was almost endearing in its naivety.

 

And then Leonhardt poured an even harsher piece of advice over her enthusiasm.

 

“Kise, ever heard this saying? There are three things that hurt people the most; regret, arguments, and an empty wallet. And out of those, the one that hurts the most is the empty wallet.”

 

“First time hearing it. But I think I get the meaning. If you want to stay positive, you shouldn’t leave your wallet empty. Right?”

 

“Impressive learning speed.”

 

Kise accepted Leonhardt’s praise without a hint of humility.

 

“That’s because I’m a self-made scholar.”

 

She had no choice. If she didn’t learn, if she fell behind, if she couldn’t keep up, she’d lose her right to be a Baby Doll. 

 

Survival demanded she master anything and everything to the best of her ability.

 

Up until just a few days ago, she had lived in that kind of world. But not anymore. This is the freedom to choose my own path.

 

Clutching the stack of bills to her chest, she made a vow to Leonhardt in a voice as beautiful as a pledge.

 

“I’ll work hard. I promise.”

 

At that moment, her heart pounded loudly. Both of them felt it at the same time.

 

🦋

 

Alright, shall we handle some money now?

…or so she thought, but Kise ended up wasting the entire morning tearing open, reading, and sorting through an enormous pile of letters.

 

After dividing them into those that needed to be given to Leonhardt and those that didn’t, she sought his opinion before drafting replies to the ones she could handle herself.

Polished and flowery phrases filled with meanings like ‘Sorry’, ‘Rejected’, ‘Regrets’, and ‘Get lost’ were neatly folded, sealed in envelopes, and steadily stacked up.

 

Once the last letter was perfectly dealt with, Kise stretched with satisfaction.

Turning her head left and right, she saw towering stacks of documents waiting to be processed on the left, and on the right, Leonhardt’s face buried in work, looking even more swamped. Her blue eyes fixed on him. 

 

The man she had assumed would be kind to anyone now looked cold and indifferent, his smile completely gone.

‘What a twist.’

She wasn’t in a position to judge, but he was definitely a suspicious character. Kise pulled open a drawer and unfolded the note he had given her. 

 

In response to her nagging about whether accommodations had been arranged for her, Leonhardt had handed it over with an amused smirk, saying “Of course.”

 

Luke St., Golden Sailing Ship sign. W. She understood it was an address, but the ‘W’ marking was a mystery.

As she scribbled down every word starting with ‘W’ that came to mind on a blank sheet of paper, a ‘knock knock’ sounded from nearby.

 

“Kise.”

 

“I’m busy, just a sec. Oh, I forgot… Huh? What?!”

 

She almost threw the pen in surprise. The person who had politely knocked on her desk, Leonhardt, was deeply bowing while intently observing her actions. 

 

Before he could read any further, Kise crumpled the paper in her fist.

 

…Since when were you here?

 

“Should I not be seeing this?”

“Probably not, I’d say.”

“Given the mood?”

“Given the mood.”

“Hmm, sorry. But I already saw everything.”

“I figured you would.”

“Did I crumple it for nothing?”

 

With a shameless grin, Leonhardt smirked as if asking, Should I smooth it out for you? Kise gave him a look that clearly said, ‘Don’t you dare.’ 

 

A battle of gentle smiles masking sharpness. He leisurely straightened his torso, which had been leaning toward her.

 

“West. It means western office.”

 

You could’ve just asked. That was the tone.

 

“If you’re curious about anything else—”

“I’ll check it myself after work.”

 

Though curious, Kise disliked the feeling of being dragged into his pace and calmly acted out, I’m not curious at all.

Truly a flawless performance befitting a former idol.

 

“But wow, you really know a lot of words. I know this much, too.”

 

…If only Leonhardt hadn’t unfolded that crumpled paper again.

 

“Leo.”

 

It would’ve been a perfect finish. This punk. Without thinking, Kise grabbed his arm tightly.

 

Whether it hurt or not, Leonhardt let out an “Aah!” and, instead of pulling away, took her hand and drew it back into his arm.

 

His softly moving lips beneath narrowed eyes felt strangely sensual.

 

“Not hungry? It’s lunchtime.”

 

🦋

 

When it was time to eat, Kise followed Leonhardt up to the top floor. 

 

The place he mentioned as the employee dining area was already filled with people enjoying their meals.

 

As Leonhardt entered, they greeted him in their own ways—some with a glance, others with a word. 

 

Lightly, appropriately, without disrupting their own meals.

 

Dining with the company owner—everything about this scene felt unfamiliar to Kise. They ignored status distinctions, sitting together, chatting away, clinking utensils against plates without a care.

 

Soon, food was brought before Leonhardt and Kise. 

 

A vegetable soup with veal, fragrant rosewater-infused pumpkin, beef stir-fried with cabbage, and an apple pie the size of a baby’s palm.

 

A thoughtfully prepared meal from the kitchen.

 

Kise cut small pieces of the vibrant-textured food, chewing slowly while absorbing the lively chatter around her.

 

The topics flowed endlessly—the tyrannical Sultan of Arabia and the quantity of porcelain to be obtained from them, rumors of tar spreading among traders, compensation for damaged goods, conflicts with ship captains, improving working conditions for laborers, renewing expired monopolies…

In this space where formality had broken down, an intense, concentrated passion was palpable. The people spoke with unrestrained confidence and experience. 

 

Every time an unfamiliar topic arose, Kise’s cheeks flushed deeper with excitement.

 

What’s this? How are there so many interesting things happening? Tell me too. Let me in on it.

 

In the marquis’s household, digging up a carrot shaped like a person from the field was a wondrous event. 

 

Spotting a heart-shaped cloud in the sky was a joyous occasion, and if Herciana’s iguana, Shevy, caught a cold, it felt like the world was ending.

 

That day was marked on the calendar with a sad note left by the maids, “Our Shevy was very sick today. The day Shevy fell ill.”

 

But here, the atmosphere was like this. What should we do with this refreshing change?

 

With flushed cheeks, Kise let out a few heavy breaths, “Whew, whew,” causing Leonhardt to glance at her with a slightly startled expression.

 

“Kise?”

“Yes, what is it?”

“Why do you look like that? Are you hurt? No—your breathing is rough.”

 

With a bit of exaggeration, her breathing could even be described as panting.

 

Wearing a concerned expression, Leonhardt reached out and pressed the back of his hand against her cheek to check for a fever. The warmth of his hand—warmer than most—met her unusually hot cheek, and the heat seemed to explode between them.

 

“You’re burning up…”

“I’m just excited.”

 

Kise reassured him in a bright voice, exhaling sharply.

“I got too worked up, that’s all. It’s nothing serious. I’m fine.”

“…”

 

Of course, her words did nothing to ease Leonhardt’s worry. 

 

As proof, a flicker of unease passed through his gaze. His eyes lingered subtly on Kise’s flushed cheeks and her lips, which had just spoken of her excitement.

 

Gulp—

 

The two drank water simultaneously. Just as they were each sorting through their emotions, he made a dazzling entrance.

 

“What’s this? Why did you two come up here without me?”

 

The moment she saw him, Kise nearly spat out the food she was chewing—Pfft!—right at his face.

 

An even stronger wave of pink fragrance wafted from Tristan compared to last time.

 

Wrapped in a ladylike angora muffler—even this one was pink—she wiggled her hips and plopped right next to Kise.

 

The blouse, adorned with tiny ruby buttons like maple seeds, brushed against her forearm, and lips coated in pink lipstick floated right before her eyes.

 

And immediately, Kise snarled viciously at herself.

 

Who laughs right in someone’s face?

 

After harshly scolding the inner self that wanted to burst into laughter at another’s taste, her expression eased.

 

Ah, I overcame it. I’m going to be great. 

 

She patted herself on the back with pride. Meanwhile, Tristan was rolling her eyes back and forth between Leonhardt and Kise.

 

“What did you two talk about?”

 

“Nothing.”

 

“Nothing at all.”

 

“Then what’s this weird tension?”

 

“There isn’t any.”

 

“There really isn’t.”

 

“No! There is!”

 

“I’m telling you, there isn’t.”

 

“There isn’t, though.”

 

How do two people manage to have such identical reactions? 

 

Tristan fidgeted, accusing them of colluding in advance, but the two ignored her as if they had agreed to and focused on their meal. But Tristan wasn’t the type to back down from a mere rebuff, so she piped up in a lively voice, teasing Kise with his chatter.

 

“Wait, wait! I almost forgot! Sweetie, I was so flustered yesterday that I totally forgot to introduce myself to you, didn’t I?”

 

“Sweetie?”

 

“Yeah, sweetie!”

 

Clench—

 

Kise’s fingers tightened around her fork. 

 

Why had the honorifics here been updated too? Just yesterday, it had been a bearable ‘sister.’

 

The guy across from her used ‘your grace’, and the one next to her called her ‘sweetie.’

 

Why did I become your wife, huh, why? 

 

Kise silently chewed the cabbage in her mouth, grinding it between her teeth. The sweetness melted out, but she couldn’t taste any of it.

 

“Sweetie, my name is Tristan Pinker. At the company, they call me Sister Pinky. Just call me Pinky!”

The moment I heard that ridiculous nickname, I should have ignored it.

But unfortunately, Kise turned his head for no reason and saw it all clearly.

Tristan, flinching and shooting a finger heart with a wink. She quickly tried to evade, but unluckily, the vivid scene slipped right through her defenseless ears.

 

“Pinker is the Pinky Fairy! You can really look forward to it! A fun company life with Pinky! Love and war! Emotion and drama! Let’s go together~!”

With a mwah~, she blew a kiss, only for Leonhardt to hurl a sauce-covered pumpkin straight at him.

The pumpkin hit his forehead and rolled down, thud-thud-thud, staining her blouse, prompting a shrill “Kyaaah!” in a thin soprano voice.