The Doll Has a Name Chapter 7 - The Wild Doll

“Are we really parting like this?” 

 

I could feel the wistful gaze in his eyes. 

 

Realizing I could no longer ignore it, I took a small breath. If I let this linger any longer, I had a feeling something disastrous would happen. It seemed better to cut it off now, no matter what.

 

“Your Highness,” I called his title once.

 

“Actually, I’ve been meaning to tell you something since earlier… I’m well aware of the kindness you’ve shown me, but I’d appreciate it if you stopped,” I got straight to the point. 

 

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sir Moens’ eyes widen in surprise, but I ignored him.

 

“It’s becoming quite burdensome.”

Even so, wasn’t that a fairly polite way to put it? 

 

There was no way he didn’t understand. Kise looked straight at Perez with a mix of genuine cheer and feigned apology. 

 

Yet, moments later, the expression that surfaced on his face made me feel stifled.

 

…The prince was making that face again. That look that said, ‘You’re just playing hard to get.’

 

Kise was truly about to lose it. 

 

I’m telling you straight to your face that you’re being unpleasant, so why can’t you get it through your head?

 

Even Sir Moens, who had no context for the situation, understood and was rolling his eyes like that.

 

Kise immediately chose the most refined way to break through head-on.

 

“Your Highness? I’m well aware that there are many women who refuse to say what they truly like or dislike, expecting others to read their minds. But doesn’t that, in reverse, mean there are also people who aren’t like that? That’s exactly the kind of person I am. If I say I dislike something, I truly mean it, and if not, then I really don’t.”

 

“I’ve never heard such a thing before.”

 

“The world is vast, and knowledge is even vaster.”

 

Knowing that men in the kingdom disliked women who flaunted their intellect, Kise deliberately gave off that impression.

Just enough to make him thoroughly dislike her. 

 

Go on, abandon me already, Prince!

 

“How amusing.”

 

But the response she got was the trifecta of despair.

“You truly are fascinating. One might even say you tell jokes I’ve never heard before.”

Amusing, funny, intriguing.

 

The one truly driven to despair was Kise herself.

 

🫧

 

Darein’s troubles began that very night. What the prince had dismissed as a mere bad dream turned into an aggressive courtship campaign starting from the day of the opera performance.

 

One day, a letter. 

 

The next, a visit. Then a gift. And another day… an infuriating serenade, alternating relentlessly.

 

Some days, he sent baskets overflowing with flowers. Other times, he showed up in person, bouquet in hand.

 

Kise had clearly come to promote the virtuous noble lady Herciana, but Perez remembered her as the aloof and unattainable noble lady Herciana.

And that, it seemed, was what ignited his determination.

 

—I shall knock upon the door of your heart! Knock, and it shall open! Wait, and it shall be opened! For there is no door in this world that remains shut forever!

 

“Ugh…”

 

Last night, Perez had come to serenade her. It was a dreadful song that began with ‘Open the window for me’, and thanks to that, she spent the entire night tormented, fleeing from him even in her dreams.

 

Why couldn’t he accept that some trees refuse to fall, no matter how many times you chop at them?

 

Staring at her sleep-deprived, haggard reflection in the mirror, Kise pressed her fingertips firmly against different points of her face in acupressure.

 

“That damn gold-digging bastard. No, this isn’t even about gold-digging. It’s just pure, burning competitive spirit. The stubborn arrogance of a lecherous man who’s desperate to pluck a flower no one else has touched.”

 

“Miss, I’ll be entering.”

 

A knock sounded, and soon after, the butler entered with hushed footsteps. 

 

Hesitating briefly, he seemed to gauge Kise’s mood before setting down a small tray in front of her. On it were an envelope and a letter opener.

 

“Is it that again?”

 

No doubt, it was a letter from Perez. 

 

They arrived like clockwork every three or four days. How utterly nauseating. And it wasn’t like all that time and effort were ever rewarded.

 

Kise had always prided herself on her elegant composure, but this clueless fool was truly something else.

 

Out of courtesy, she figured she should at least open it. With a pop, she slit the envelope with the letter opener.

 

Three seconds was all it took to scan the contents. It looked like some poet’s love letter, painstakingly transcribed. By the time she read, “Oh blue-eyed, wounded maiden, my bluebird. I left the footprints of my love upon your heart,” Kise could feel her toes curling in disgust.

 

As she set the letter down and reached for water, the butler, who had been standing nearby, poured her a glass and bowed slightly.

 

“I shall prepare the stationery for your reply at once.”

 

Kise was almost moved to tears by the butler’s impeccable tact. 

 

After all, the reply was always going to be a firm rejection, so there was no need to agonize over what to write.

 

This was something Kise knew, the butler knew, and every last servant in the marquis’s household knew.

 

With swift yet unhurried movements, the butler arranged clean paper, an inkwell, and a quill on the desk—as if silently urging her to write that rejection and send it off quickly.

 

What a first-rate servant, so adept at reading his Lady’s mind.

 

Kise felt true love from them. Love was something that required understanding and consideration for the other person—not just mindlessly pouring out one’s own thoughts and leaving.

 

With the butler’s support, she moved to the desk.

After smoothly writing a courteous greeting with a pen soaked in ink, she immediately delved into the main point from the very next line. 

 

Aiming to target Perez’s greatest weakness—his intellect—she deliberately used long, complex grammatical structures and even referenced foreign examples.

 

《According to an old tale from the eastern lands, fate is said to be the thread that begins from shared hearts. Truly, this is a lesson that transcends borders and culture. For this reason, I do not share the same heart as Your Highness…》

 

She had just written up to this point and was about to discreetly show it to the butler when the door, which should have remained quietly closed, suddenly burst open noisily.

 

“Hey! Kise!”

 

The one who barged in was Herciana.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

The moment she saw her, Kise reflexively blurted out an apology.

 

During this time, not only Perez but also Herciana had tormented Kise just as much—asking where she had gone and what nonsense she had picked up, whether she even realized what mistake she had made now, and so on.

 

Perez and Herciana. Herciana and Perez.

 

Should I just pair these two hopeless romantics together? 

 

For the briefest moment, such a wicked thought crossed her mind, but Kise maintained a blank expression and spoke.

 

“I’ll resolve this as quickly as possible. It wasn’t my fault, but in the end, it turned out this way.”

 

I may have committed a sin, but I did nothing wrong. I just went and made a little noise as you told me to—unfortunately, that ended up provoking the prince’s twisted, ulterior motives.

 

She swore she had never intended to amuse him, make him laugh, or entertain him in any way. But his flawed perception of the world and her own unfortunate timing combined to produce today’s lamentable outcome.

 

“Do you know who’s downstairs right now?!”

“Who is it?”

“A noble lady is here looking for Herciana!”

“Then you should hurry down and see her, Herciana.”

“Not me—you, you idiot! Herciana!”

“There’s no Herciana here besides you, miss. Herciana?”

“You little—how dare you play word games after turning everything into this mess?”

Herciana pointed sharply at Kise’s face with a precision no noble should rightfully possess.

“She’s here because of the prince! That dimwit!”

 

🫧

 

Sunlight poured through the arched windows lining the hallway. 

 

Kise spread her arms, savoring the warmth as she walked with her eyes gently closed. The heat kissing her skin was comforting.

 

Warm sunlight. A parched life.

If only the two could become one, she’d ask for nothing more. 

 

But reality was a cesspool. 

 

Even if life was always like this, there was no shaking off this rising tide of irritation.

 

The damned profession of a Babydoll—not a single moment of slacking allowed. The benefits may be good, but the workload is murderous. 

 

From practical tasks to accountability, everything falls on her shoulders alone. The job is supposed to be teamwork, yet somehow, she always ends up taking the blame.

 

Herciana is a habitual free-rider, the Marquis is a bystander, and the rest of the household are sunflowers that only turn toward her. 

 

Ultimately, the work always comes down to her.

 

As Kise changed into her reception attire, draped a shawl over her shoulders, and headed out, Herciana trailed behind, chattering nonstop like rapid gunfire.

 

“That’s the Countess of Laer. She’s the younger sister of the queen consort who bore the Sixth Prince, so she’s practically his aunt. Right now, she’s the head lady-in-waiting controlling the inner palace, and they say she’s the opposing force against the Crown Prince’s faction. She’s making a fuss, saying her nephew should’ve been the heir instead of the First Prince—what nonsense. If the Sixth Prince becomes king, our country’s doomed. Right?”

 

And that woman is here right now, beneath us.

 

Nodding vaguely, I turned the corner.

 

At every passage, the household staff stood scattered in loose rows, sniffling.

 

They were already miserable dealing with that reckless prince causing trouble, and now his aunt had shown up—no wonder they were beyond worried.

 

The maid who’d abandoned her work to rush here, the butler, the head chef clutching a ladle, the cook, the nanny wiping away tears, the gardener in work clothes, the therapist asking if I needed a sedative. 

 

Even the knights stood fully armed as if ready to charge at any moment.

 

Kise let out a quiet laugh as she scanned their teary eyes. 

 

They’re about to cry, they really are. It was rather touching how they held back from rushing to me, offering silent support with their eyes instead.

 

We believe in you, overcome this crisis, stay strong, we’ll all pray for you, don’t waver, mighty one…

 

I already knew this, but the people of this household were pointlessly kind. 

 

Their very kindness was their flaw.

 

As we reached just outside the parlor, Herciana quickly hid behind a pillar, poking only her face out. 

 

The way she silently drew a finger across her throat unmistakably screamed, “Get rid of her!”

 

After giving her a brief, pitying look, I checked my attire out of courtesy—just as Lily rolled a trolley up behind me with a rumble.

 

Looking down at the teapot, teacups, and plates filled with various biscuits, she blinked in disbelief. The guests arrived ages ago—why is this being prepared only now?

 

Lily bit her lip dramatically.

“H-Hey, being alone is scary, you know! With the master away, how can the young lady manage all by herself? I might not be much help, but at least if I’m here too…”

 

So now she’s offering to step in as a substitute for Father? Is she worried about me? Oh, for heaven’s sake. 

 

These people will be the death of me.

 

The surrounding chaos had the opposite effect—it oddly put her at ease. 

 

What was the term for this again? Ah, right. The eye of the storm.

 

While everyone else whipped up a frenzy, Kise, the very center of it all, had reached a state of serene calm—like the quiet within a hurricane. 

 

Enjoying this incongruous peace, she stretched her shoulders and chest wide.

 

“What kind of pose is that, young lady?”

 

“This? A mighty pose.”