The Doll Has a Name Chapter 8 - The Wild Doll

Doing this action instantly amplifies psychological confidence. 

 

It’s quite effective. Adding a brief explanation, Lily let out a short exclamation and followed along.

 

Knock, knock—

 

Finally, the sound announced their entry into the parlor.

 

Footsteps were heard. Kise flicked her fingers and gestured behind her, prompting Lily to step back. 

 

After all, a noblewoman couldn’t possibly enter after a maid.

 

“Countess Laer.”

 

She opened the door, stepped in with measured strides, and greeted the hostess with the demeanor befitting her status.

 

“My apologies for keeping you waiting. My father has gone out to the outskirts. It’s a pleasure to meet you—I am Herciana Darein.”

 

“Oh, the honor is all mine to meet such a distinguished young lady.”

 

Countess Laer took in the tidy parlor and Kise as a set, then smiled warmly with a kind remark.

 

Ah, quick on the uptake—sorry, but just by observing the Countess’s shifting gaze, it was clear why she was here. There was no need for probing conversation, the picture was already vividly drawn. 

 

And naturally, it wasn’t a pleasant one.

 

She’s here to fan the flames of matchmaking actively. She probably gathered all sorts of information about Darein on her way here. 

 

Especially focusing on wealth and connections, no doubt, even skimming through the family’s history tied to the territory.

 

And she must’ve given her approval. For a match with Perez, even a 1.5 out of 5 would suffice.

 

“It’s our first meeting, isn’t it? I’m sorry for dropping in so suddenly. But I simply had to meet you at least once. This is a gift.”

 

It was supposedly dessert cookies made by the royal head chef. 

 

Called The Fragrant Toes of the Goddess. 

 

What a naming sense—really. I don’t even want to eat it.

 

Clicking her tongue inwardly, Kise handed the box Countess Laer offered to Lily and sent it away. Afterward, she expressed her thanks with a smile.

 

“I heard the young lady attended the opera performance. I wasn’t there that day, but it seems my daughter saw you. She couldn’t stop praising you—saying how cultured and beautiful you were. Ohoho—.”

 

This was what you might call a warm-up before the main topic, a lighthearted tease. 

 

A classic example of aristocratic conversation. To put it simply, it’s like not placing the meat on the grill until it’s properly heated.

 

Playing along, Kise responded with appropriate phrases like, “Oh, really? Is that so? Well, then!” matching the tone of the exchange.

 

While keeping up the polite back-and-forth, Kise breathed life into the hollow pleasantries, engaging in a challenge almost rivaling the authority of a creator. 

 

The lady, meanwhile, drew laughter by gossiping about the scandalous affairs of celebrities—trivial matters that wouldn’t affect their lives in the slightest.

 

Some might doubt whether nobles would openly discuss others’ scandals over tea, pairing them with delicate pastries as if they were the toes of goddesses, but indeed, they do.

 

Their tongues are as light as nanoparticles, and their ears are sharper than those of elves or dwarves.

 

Kise set down the cup she had been about to drink from. 

 

The tea had gone cold. Enough time had passed for the once-steaming tea to cool completely.

 

‘Now’s about the time to reveal the purpose of this visit…’

 

The groundwork had been laid. The tea was no longer palatable, having cooled too much. It was time to steer the conversation forward.

 

“By the way… I’ve heard the Sixth Prince has been showing quite an interest in you lately?”

 

“Ahh.”

 

Though she feigned surprise at the unexpected topic, she didn’t pretend ignorance.

 

Most might play coy out of embarrassment, but she wasn’t the type to blush over someone else’s shallow intentions.

 

“Well, yes.”

 

“My, my, so it’s true after all. News like that spreads quickly. They say once he takes an interest in something, he becomes blind to all else. I heard you’ve been having a hard time because of it.”

 

“Not so much a hard time as…”

 

“My, my, a man’s reckless courtship must indeed be troublesome for a shy young lady. You can be honest.”

 

Huh? No, that’s not it. 

 

Kise blinked rapidly and hastily waved her hands in denial.

 

“It’s not so much troublesome as it was just… hopeless. Like being trapped in a room with no exit, desperate to escape? The type who only says what they want and then satisfies themselves? His Highness was practically the epitome of a brick wall.”

 

If you thought she’d treat him like a prince just because of his title, you’d be mistaken. She, too, was armed with an equally rigorous noble upbringing. 

 

Why should she be the one to yield?

 

Kise projected an air of pure innocence, as if to say, “I merely acted as I was taught.”

 

Besides, Perez was a nobody—not even a proper heir, just a spare. 

 

And Madame Laer was no different. She might believe they were threatening the crown prince’s position, but in reality, they were just a bunch of fools plucked from a gathering of idiots who thought the same. 

 

Therefore, they amounted to nothing.

 

How dare they waste someone else’s precious time with such trivial matters? Kise thought simply humoring them was already an act of great courtesy.

 

“I had heard… that the young lady spent considerable time with His Highness, the Sixth Prince.”

 

The fluster in her voice was already palpable. Kise neatly summed up her confusion in a single line.

 

“A misunderstanding.”

 

That’s how cleanly you sweep away misunderstandings. No need for lengthy explanations. 

 

What did she and he even do? What would they have had to do to warrant statements, clarifications, and press conferences?

 

Madame Laer, though gentle, was firmly rebuffed. She leaned forward from where she had been resting against the chair and spoke again.

 

“But according to the maids who attended to you in the hall that day, the two of you seemed quite close…”

 

“The maids?”

 

Since when does their so-called objective testimony outweigh my own subjective feelings? Are you disregarding me right now?

 

The sharpness in her tone lingers, hanging in the air like a blade. As if cut by its edge, Madame Laer flinches and steps back to minimize the damage.

 

The Kise standing here now was, by all appearances, a dignified noble through and through—and a noble’s pride was like a sacred relic sealed deep within a dungeon, not to be carelessly touched.

 

Therefore, if a noble—or someone disguised as one—were to vehemently spit out, “I told you it wasn’t me!” and bare their teeth in defiance, even if it made your blood boil, you had no choice but to play along and swallow the lie.

 

The moment you doubted them, it would be taken as an attack on their pride.

 

Unless you wanted a fight, you had to back down. 

 

As Kise repeatedly called for retreat, the Countess moistened her dry lips with cold tea. Though she apologized for the misunderstanding, she didn’t easily yield.

 

“I… see. Still, I beg you not to be angry and to try to understand. At court right now, everyone is talking about the young lady and His Highness. The atmosphere is one of celebration for their union. Guests at Her Highness the Queen’s salon are even asking when the wedding will be held.”

 

Ha, these people—really. I want to grab them all and grind them to dust.

 

So, what she was saying was that the entire nobility of the capital was welcoming Herciana and Perez’ wedding with open arms.

 

Kise forced the corners of her lips up, masking her boiling frustration with a hollow smile. Her mind raced at breakneck speed. She could roughly guess their intentions.

 

Few families would willingly offer their daughters to the scandal-ridden Sixth Prince, who fancied himself a Casanova.

 

But then, conveniently, a mysterious marchioness’ daughter became entangled in a scandal. 

 

They must be seizing this chance to rid the royal family of its troublesome problem. Whether liked or disliked, he’s still a prince, so he must be married off. 

 

And since a flower must be placed by his side, pushing Herciana into that position would allow the other nobles to breathe a sigh of relief. 

 

One future threat would be eliminated. She was, in a way, a sacrificial lamb.

 

‘Truly, when it comes to shamelessness and lack of conscience, you people are unmatched in the universe.’

 

Noticing Kise’s unusual silence and faint smile, Countess Laer, seated across from her, gulped down her lukewarm tea in nervous sips. She had come here to facilitate a union with the House of Darein.

 

The Darein family was, by all accounts, not a bad choice. 

 

Though indifferent to worldly affairs, if they spread their wings properly, they could soar beyond pheasants to peacocks—expanding their influence to that of a duke’s house.

 

“My lady, do you truly have no affection for His Highness? You may not know it yet, but there’s no one as wonderful as him.”

 

Affection? No. None. I regard that man as lower than the slippers beneath my feet.

 

Rolling her eyes as she scanned the drawing room, Kise slowly parted her lips.

 

“Forgive my impertinence, madam, but I know His Highness well enough. How could I not recognize the very embodiment of freedom and indulgence? Though he’s kept away from society due to health reasons, he regularly subscribes to newspapers and magazines, always keeping an ear open to the world. Not to mention, he’s consistently ranked in the year-end ‘Top Ten Most Scandalous Royals’—never once missing the list.”

 

Struck by the pointed remark, the flustered countess stammered out an excuse.

 

“W-well… His Highness has changed a great deal lately! He’s been faithfully attending temple services recently, you know.”

 

Changed? Kise nearly let out a derisive snort but held her breath instead.

 

Wow, now they’re even fabricating things. 

 

If you endure it and stay quiet, they just keep pushing endlessly. Since Darein has been holed up, meditating under a waterfall, they must think he’s a complete fool who knows nothing. Trying to pull a scam now, are they?

 

With a smooth motion, Kise extended her arm, the flowing sleeve gliding gracefully, and kindly pointed to the newspaper placed in the waiting area of the drawing room.

 

The bold headline on the front page caught her eye at a glance.

 

“The Sixth Prince Causes Another Drunken Riot. Will the Public Safety Department Issue Another Slap-on-the-Wrist Fine?”

 

The article detailed how Perez had downed drinks in the entertainment district, skipped out on the bill, and pulled the classic “Do you know who I am?” move.

 

Yesterday’s front page had been adorned with a caricature-style illustration of Perez, accompanying the headline story.

 

No wonder he had shown up in the middle of the night, blaring a serenade at noise-level volume. The pitch and lyrics were even more disastrously off than usual—clearly, he had arrived drunk.

 

Kise shook her head sympathetically as she looked at the pale-faced countess.

 

“How unfortunate. His Highness the Prince’s character seems as vibrant and healthy as a freshly sprouted seedling.”

 

Of course, she meant his trashy personality. His garbage-like nature appeared to be thriving as ever.

 

“Cold tea can cause stomach discomfort, so please don’t drink it. Let me bring you a fresh cup instead.”

 

Though the countess had already downed half of it cold, Kise rang the nearby bell as if belatedly concerned, summoning Lily, who was waiting outside.

 

Yet her sincere blue eyes clearly conveyed her intentions.

 

They say you can reuse objects, but not people. And honestly, your nephew doesn’t even seem like someone who can be fixed. I heard some people worship the Sixth Prince. 

 

Well then, the Prince can just hold hands with them and walk straight into the incinerator—no, I mean the wedding hall. Problem solved.

 

As for me, I think I’ll just keep living the way I always have.

 

Each to their own play. Okay?

 

With a faint smile, Kise poured freshly brewed tea for Lady Laer, who had completely deflated compared to her earlier confidence, and struck a heavy blow.

 

“Madame. I—and my family—do not enjoy dangerous games.”

 

Choosing her words carefully, she even brought up the word ‘family.’ Lady Laer visibly tensed immediately.

 

To nobles, family was a concept as sacred as scripture. The one and only foundation that allowed them to live as nobles. Without it, they could neither swagger nor strut, nor proclaim their greatness to the world.

 

So another noble like Lady Laer couldn’t possibly fail to grasp the weight of what had just been said. 

 

Assuming she was properly educated, that is.

 

“Games? What do you mean—?”

 

Ugh. It’s a metaphor, dimwit. Get a clue. How do you expect to reclaim the heir’s seat and hand it to your nephew like this?

 

They were face to face, but communication was clearly not happening.

 

Out of sheer frustration, Kise ignored the question and skipped the explanation. 

 

No, honestly, I had no desire to spell things out in detail.

 

The fact that they had drawn their own lines of love and confidently come to her, brimming with self-assurance, was utterly ridiculous. 

 

To put it bluntly, it was downright infuriating.