The Doll Has a Name Chapter 3 - The Wild Doll

 

The Nanny. Kise knew without even looking. 

 

No—to be precise, it was more accurate to say she deliberately avoided looking while still noticing.

 

Right now, there were two people here who could be called young lady—one real, and one fake that seemed real. But Kise absolutely refused to turn her gaze toward that call.

 

Where the real exists, the fake shall not be acknowledged.

 

This was the highest law of the Baby Dolls.

 

And Kise understood her place better than anyone else in the household. When she was with Herciana like this, she knew that if people were looking for the young lady, it could never be for her. 

 

There were no fools who would search for a fake when the real one was right in front of them.

 

So whenever she was with Herciana, she acted even more like a doll.

 

Restricting her movements, breathing softly, erasing her presence. If she leaned against the wall, she became a wall ornament doll. If she sat on a chair, she became a seated doll. If she drank tea, she became a tea-drinking doll.

 

Right now, her pose was closer to lying down, so she was a reclining doll.

 

As the gunfire ceased, the nanny’s nagging flew through the air.

 

“At least eat first! Starting something like this before breakfast! Since when have you been out here without telling me? On a beautiful day like this, you should’ve gone out 

somewhere! I heard Lady Boer is preparing a lovely tea party…”

 

Blah, blah. Chatter, chatter…

 

Oh dear, she nagged me endlessly too—will she be okay? 

 

Kise rolled only her pupils to gauge Herciana’s reaction. Of course, her face was stony.

 

“No guns or swords.”

 

With no wasted effort, the nanny concluded her lecture and hurried off, saying she was returning to the kitchen.

 

No guns or swords.

 

At those words, Kise recalled the sensation of the sword still resting in his arms. Though it had seemed like the nanny was addressing just one person, she now realized her scolding had been meant for both of them, making her seem all the more impressive.

 

The moment the nanny disappeared, Herciana stomped over with rough, huffy steps.

“I don’t get what she even wants from me!”

Kise casually gathered the weapons she had set down and replied, “How don’t you know? The same thing every mother in the world wants from their teenage kids. No matter what you do, you have to wake up early and never skip meals. Outdoor activities are preferred over indoor ones, but you can’t be alone—you have to socialize.”

 

For example, something like the ‘lovely tea party’ of Viscount Boer’s daughter that the nanny had mentioned earlier. When Kise brought it up, Herciana groaned and made a face.

“What even is that?”

“A wholesome outdoor activity. And one more thing—no matter what wholesome activity you do outside, you must return home before dinner. Because you have to be fed. That’s what the nanny wants.”

“…”

“What, is it that hard?”

 

Well, maybe a little hard. Kise smirked, pressing a hand against his sweat-drenched back.

 

🫧

 

《The Rikent Republic is composed of a union of states.

 

 It was formed when five provinces seceded from the Holy Ruse Empire, adopting a republican system of governance.

 

Major national decisions are determined through parliamentary voting, and the parliament elects a single leader, the Chancellor, as the supreme authority.

 

Ethnically, the Lasio people make up 40% of the population, but the nation is largely multiethnic. 

Religiously, it is a Protestant country with a strong anti-Catholic stance, defined by its resistance to the old church.

 

Due to religious conflicts, the Republic fought and won a war of independence against the Holy Ruse Empire from the years 594 to 667 of the Divine Calendar.

 

Having declared independence about 40 years ago, this small peninsula nation by the sea generally enjoys a mild climate with four distinct seasons.

― A Continent Travelogue for Solo Travelers: The Rikent Republic Edition.》

 

Rustle—

 

Flipping leisurely through the illustrated travel book, Kise quietly lowered her head, following the printed words. Her delicately painted features showed not even a hint of change, but the clarity in her gaze made it certain—she was deeply engrossed in the content.

 

Around her, attendants bustled about, preparing for the three-step transformation of hair, dress, and makeup. 

 

They obediently raised her arms when asked, spun her in graceful turns upon request, and complied with every demand.

As if she had no interest in their doll-playing.

 

“I’ll accentuate your nose bridge a little more.”

At the approaching touch of the brush, Kise elegantly lifted her chin.

Feeling the soft tickling around her nose, she skimmed through the information about the Rikent people’s territory, the densely clustered geography of each province, and the expanding port cities marked on the map.

 

‘Pioneers, indeed.’

As the cities grew explosively, the coastline visibly changed every decade.

To overcome the limitations of their narrow land—a small peninsula—the Rikent people had long carried out reclamation projects. They drove stakes into the flesh of the sea, turning water into land, steadily expanding their territory.

 

《The capital of the Rikent Republic, Merca—》

 

The sentence cut off at the edge of the page, needlessly stoking one’s curiosity.

Eager to read on, she hurriedly flipped the page, but the corset tightened forcefully from behind, making her gasp sharply for a moment.

 

“You’ve been clinging to that book lately, haven’t you?”

 

“Relax, because it’s only going to get tighter from here,” said Lilia, the full-time maid, loosening the strings slightly as she spoke.

‘Hah, these clever ones. They lull you into letting your guard down, then go straight for the throat. It’s harder to shape the corset properly if the body is stiff.’

Acknowledging the shrewd tactic with silent praise, Kise gave a small nod.

“You remember that wine merchant who visits our territory every year, right? The one with the catfish-like curled mustache. I got it from him. He’s from Rikent.”

Darein owned vast vineyards. 

 

A resourceful Rikent merchant, he periodically stopped by the territory to trade large quantities of grapes in advance.

Once, he had gifted this book, inviting her to visit his homeland someday. She still remembered how proud he had been when handing it over.

Kise often recalled his bold, intoxicated gaze—brimming with wealth and confidence—daringly mocking this peaceful kingdom armored by bloodline.

“The romance novel Lilia wanted to read might be there too. They say Rikent doesn’t censor books. You could buy anything you want there.”

‘Romance novel’ was a euphemism for erotic fiction.

Banned in the kingdom for being sacrilegious, it could only be obtained illegally on the black market. 

 

Lilia lowered her voice, feigning embarrassment but unable to hide her envy.

“Well, rich merchants buy a lot of them. If there’s money to be made, they’ll sell anything.”

“Fair point.”

After tightening the corset flawlessly, she layered on the crinoline to puff out the skirt, then dressed in the gown.

Next came the meticulous task of gathering the dress’s trailing hem and arranging each fold one by one. Her naturally wavy hair cascaded loosely over her shoulders.

 

The nearly two hours spent on grooming were coming to an end. 

 

For nobles, attending an official event under the name of their family is considered a highly diplomatic act. Though they hold no official titles, each one of them is no different from a diplomat.

Moreover, today was the day to respond to the invitation sent by the Crown Princess’s palace. 

 

Since the occasion was far from ordinary, the utmost sincerity and decorum had to be displayed.

The sleek lace material wrapped around her wrist was far from her personal preference, but even that was endured as she went back to catch the trailing end of a passage she had missed.

 

《…The capital, Mercà, is a land forged by those who controlled the sea. 

 

As the canal cut through the city, a flood of wealth flowed into it.  Everything in that land was stitched together by human riches. 

 

You will kneel, powerless to resist, before the overwhelming abundance born from the pockets of its citizens.》

 

Interesting.

Had she been holding a quill, she might have underlined this part. It was a rare description that piqued her interest, so Kise read it over several more times.

 

Thinking she had vaguely memorized it, Kise’s gaze trailed down the lengthy text until it stuck on one particular phrase.

 

Clink!

 

At the same time, Lily, who had been hovering near her ear with pearl ornaments, fumbled with a hairpin. 

 

The clattering sound as it hit the floor felt like some sort of signal flare.

 

《People climb onto the deck, hoist the sails—》

“Oh my! I’m so sorry, miss!”

 

《—and grasp ledgers in place of genealogies.》

 

“Phew—thank goodness it’s not scratched!”

 

《On the day that ship returns, you will be able to buy anything.》

 

Leaving Lilia behind—who was brushing off her chest as if she had just survived a decade of hardship—Kise closed the leather-bound book. 

 

Lifting her head, she saw her fully adorned reflection in the mirror that took up one side of the wall.

 

“Do you like it?”

“Yes.”

 

I like it very much. That’s what you mean, right?

 

“I like it.”

 

The answer came without hesitation.

 

 The servants, gathered around, brightened at Kise’s repeated affirmations, as if she were firmly imprinting her satisfaction.

 

Perfect appearance, a perfect day, a perfect passage.

 

Everything was close to perfect.

 

🫧

 

Since the journey from the outskirts of the capital to the royal palace was quite a distance, they hurriedly prepared a carriage. Sir Moens, a knight from the family entrusted with escort duty, had been waiting by the carriage since early morning.

 

Kise, wearing long gloves that reached her elbows and holding a delicate fan, stepped lightly across the grass as she walked. 

 

Beside her, Herciana hobbled along on crutches, matching her pace as if determined not to fall behind. 

 

It seemed her conscience wouldn’t let her send Kise off without at least seeing her out.

 

Herciana had been thrown from her horse while riding. 

 

The result? 

 

A sprained right ankle. The accident had happened in the days leading up to the opera screening they were preparing for, after receiving the invitation.

 

Though there was no reason to suspect foul play, the irritation was unavoidable.

 

Every time their eyes met, Kise flashed a look that said, You did this on purpose, didn’t you?—as if to burden her with guilt through sheer dark intent.

 

“Ugh!”

 

And each time, Herciana flinched. That reaction alone made the teasing worthwhile.

 

“It really was an accident!”

 

“I didn’t say anything.”

 

“Then what are you thinking?”

 

“Social dances, uncomfortable shoes, ugly pumpkin carriages, three nosy fairies?”

 

Add to that a pitiful Cinderella—no, a pitiable baby doll.

 

“Liar. That’s not it.”

 

“You’re right, it’s not. The truth is, I’ve been stewing since last night over why Hena was even riding on a mountain path in the first place. No matter how much you didn’t want to go, I never thought you’d go as far as self-sabotage to rebel.”

 

‘How cruel.’ 

 

As Kise piled on the baseless accusations, Herciana brandished her crutch and snapped back.

 

“I told you it wasn’t on purpose! And I’m actually hurt, you know? Going is out of the question!”

 

“There’s such a thing as fighting spirit despite injury.”

 

“And there’s also such a thing as pushing yourself too far.”

 

“If you keep shirking responsibility and duty, what’s left of noble honor?”

 

“Don’t worry. If enemies cross the border, I’ll be the first to lead the charge.”

 

Smooth talker…

 

Most people probably assumed that Marquis Darein and his daughter lived in seclusion for this reason: Because of the disgraceful scandal involving the late marchioness over twenty years ago. 

 

It was out of shame that they avoided public appearances. But as anyone could see, that wasn’t it at all. 

 

Not even close.

 

The truth was, they simply preferred staying in because that lifestyle suited their tastes, and most social engagements clashed with their sensibilities, making them reject such things outright.

 

To put it simply—they just didn’t like it. That’s all.