The Doll Has a Name

Author: Nikss

“You seem puzzled as to why I’m being so firm.”

Kise, who had been staring at her feet with lowered eyes, lifted her gaze again.

“To be honest, I never considered His Highness the Prince from the start. The gap between him and my ideal type is far too wide… My father shares my perspective, you see. He believes a son-in-law should be someone he can easily control—that’s where the real pleasure lies for him.”

What he wants is a man who appears sturdy on the outside but is weak inside, like clam meat—a shoddy construction, so to speak.

My ideal type is precisely that, a man who seems flawless on the surface but is hollow within.

It wasn’t the type Kise herself desired, but these were the criteria for the son-in-law currently being sought in Darein.

And by that standard, the Prince was unqualified—so much so that he couldn’t even be scored zero. He was simply ineligible.

So, wake up from your dream.

Trying to drag Herciana into his bed would be harder than turning dung into gold.

As if she had nothing more to say, Kise leisurely waited for the next reaction.

“Ideal type, you say?”

“Yes.”

But at the mention of an ‘ideal type,’ the voice of Countess Laer took on a strange tone—almost mocking, as if to say, You’re still such a child.

“Hmph, young lady. Marriage can be discussed without love. An ideal type is only beautiful when it remains an ideal. You shouldn’t bring it up—just keep it tucked away in your fantasies.”

There she goes, back to her haughty self. She was much more bearable when she was cowering earlier.

Unable to hide her disappointment, Kise conceded to the Countess’s words.

“That’s a fair point. But if I’m to marry, I’d prefer a long, stable union without divorce. That’s why an ideal type matters. However, His Highness the Prince is neither my ideal nor someone I’d risk the complications of a royal divorce for, don’t you think?”

“No, we were just talking about marriage, and now suddenly you bring up divorce? Why did the conversation take such a turn?”

The lady was startled. Of course, she would be. But Kise, on the contrary, looked at her as if it were strange that she couldn’t connect the two.

“Madame, do you not know why people get divorced?”

“Why?”

“Because of marriage.”

“…!”

“If marriage didn’t exist in the first place, how could divorce have come about? Divorce happens entirely because of marriage.”

She had fallen for it—the clever rhetoric meant to lure in the dull-witted. Kise smiled faintly, narrowing her eyes.

The lady probably wanted to retort, but unfortunately, there was nothing strictly wrong with the logic just presented.

It wasn’t the logic that was flawed, but the point itself was a mess.

However, there was no noble in existence who could point that out. Kise was well aware of this. Because the moment someone pointed it out, they would, by their own hand, admit that they themselves were caught in that absurd whirlwind.

A noble, brimming with arrogant confidence, would never face their own shame head-on and feel embarrassed. At least, not in this kingdom.

So now, why don’t you just leave?

I won’t spread rumors or mock you for being stupid, so just disappear already.

Rocking her ankle rhythmically, Kise listened to the ticking of the clock pendulum. Then, suddenly, she felt a faint vibration from the tea table’s leg and wondered if it was because of her. She stopped abruptly.

‘No, it’s not me, is it?’

Even while standing still, the table’s surface shook. She quietly lifted her head to observe the lady’s state.

“Madame Laer?”

The lady before her was trembling violently.

As if she had just been pulled out of icy water—shivering uncontrollably. She seemed terrified, covering her mouth with both hands, unable to speak.

“Madame?”

Kise abruptly stood up and stepped close to the lady in one swift motion.

Before she could even ask “Why?”, the lady tightly shut her trembling eyes and spoke in a voice as faint as an ant’s.

“A bug… a b-bug…! On my knee…!”

Ah! Only then did Kise spot the insect strolling across Lady Laère’s thigh—a creature with a pitch-black back and long antennae.

It was a familiar sight to Kise.

The little thing was one of the hundreds of crickets prepared for Herciana’s pet iguana. Normally meant as feed, Herciana had released them all over the house—claiming it was to preserve the iguana’s wild instincts though ‘wild’ and ‘preservation’ didn’t quite match.

So that Shevy—the iguana’s name—could detect and hunt its prey on its own.

Truly, bugs are a noble lady’s nemesis.

As if understanding her terror, Kise tried to reassure the trembling lady. Fortunately, the cricket had stopped moving and was now lying still.

Upon closer look, the lady seemed to be barely holding back a scream.

Normally, even iguanas crawled freely across the floors of this house. But someone must have had the sense to keep them away while guests were present.

Seeing how she trembled at just a cricket, releasing the iguana would’ve caused utter chaos.

Watching Lady Laer, who kept her eyes shut as if she found it terrifying without even knowing what it was, Kise smirked slightly.

This… could be a chance to pull a fast one.

A wicked thought wriggled up instinctively.

“Madame! Stay calm. I’ll help you, but first, don’t move. If you act rashly, it might bite you.”

“B-Bite me?!”

“Yes.”

“If it bites…!”

“You’ll drop dead on the spot.”

Ah, maybe that was too much? Feeling the lady stiffen like a log, Kise felt a twinge of guilt.

“There’s a forest behind the estate, so we get all sorts of vicious insects. This is one of them.”

“Please… save me…”

“Don’t worry. I know how to handle this.”

Though she had actually grabbed it with her hand and tossed it out the window, Kise claimed she had lured the insect into captivity and overturned an empty teacup next to Madame Laer’s hip. It was a bluff—a fake teacup.

“Phew, I managed to trap it in the teacup. We’ve overcome the first hurdle.”

“Oh, miss!”

“Now, take my hand and stand up as carefully as you can. That’s it. You’re doing wonderfully. Walk slowly. The exit is this way.”

If they walked out like this, they would leave this wretched mansion behind for good. Kise extended her hand like a savior and gently guided Madame Laer out of the house.
Right.

What seemed like pest extermination was, in truth, human extermination.

Hooray. A con—successfully executed!

🫧

Candles flickered atop the round table.

A serious strategy meeting on the current situation.

Three key figures involved in the incident had gathered in one place, the Marquis of Darein, his daughter, and her bodyguard.

Such occasions were rare, so everyone acutely felt the urgency of the matter at hand.

“I can’t possibly marry that trash!”

“Needless to say.”

“I agree.”

“This is absolutely unacceptable!”

“Of course it is.”

“Horrifying.”

Though each phrased it differently, their sentiments aligned, ‘Absolutely not, over my dead body.’

The trio, who had shared every hardship, now faced their greatest crisis yet.

“If we get entangled with the royal family, I won’t be able to pass the Darein name down to you, Hena. This is a serious problem.”

As the Marquis lamented, Herciana burst out in frustration.

It was only natural—becoming the prince’s bride meant exactly that. The prince might inherit his mother’s surname to continue his maternal lineage, but he would never take his wife’s name and enter the Darein family registry.

Even so, he was still a prince by title—there was no way he would willingly become a son-in-law.

But even so, there had to be a limit to how long he could keep brushing things off and doing nothing.

Perez, being the youngest, seemed to be shielded and favored by the king. No wonder the royal family had turned a blind eye to the prince’s recklessness and misdeeds until now.

“We need to find a breakthrough. If things continue like this, we might end up irrevocably at odds with the royal family.”

“You’re right, that can’t happen.”

“Why not? We should fight and hold our ground!”

“Hena, don’t talk like a child. The survival of our family is at stake here.”

The House of Darein had never been part of either the anti-royalist or pro-royalist factions since ancient times.

The Dareins were a family that had always been content with what they had, neither neutral nor actively seeking peace—just passively avoiding conflict.

Confrontations like this went against their traditions.

“You managed to drive that woman away just fine. What’s the problem now?”

“It won’t last.”

“Why?”

“Because the main party hasn’t given up.”

Fundamentally, the prince hadn’t let go. He was the root cause of this whole mess.

As long as the source remained unquelled, they would keep suffering tremors—whether minor or major.

Leaning forward, Kise whispered conspiratorially.

“Let’s take action.”

“What kind?”

“How?”

Gazes converged in one direction. Fingers unfolded one by one as secrecy spread.

“There are two methods—drastic and gentle.”

“Drastic!”

“Gentle.”

Why did father and daughter disagree? Coordinate, quickly.

Kise gestured with his chin. After a brief silent battle of wills between father and daughter, the Marquis’ quiet charisma settled the matter.

“I can’t stand noisy methods.”

Ah, of course.

Choosing the drastic route would mean disregarding their family’s long-standing traditions and plunging into a world of slander and schemes.

In the current situation, siding with the crown prince’s faction would require exposing Perez’s faults—though they were mostly framed—to secure his protection.

Of course, in return, she could avoid marrying Perez, but she would have to brace herself for the enemies and various threats that would arise in the process.

However, as everyone knew, Darein was not the type to have even the slightest inclination for such things—he was the kind of man who believed that a quiet and comfortable life was the best the world had to offer.

He wasn’t a pacifist, but he would choose the gentler path.

Kise had already anticipated this. She had even foreseen Herciana’s impending outburst and quickly continued her briefing.

“You’ve chosen a peaceful resolution. Then, the method branches into two options once again: a response at the family level or a personal-level response.”

The fact that there were yet another two options made the Darein father-daughter pair focus intently on Kise’s voice.

“First, let me explain the family-level response. This one is actually simple. Too simple, in fact. You just say, ‘We respectfully decline the royal marriage proposal,’ and then immediately marry someone—anyone—else. That’s game over. No further discussion needed.”

What could they do if she were already married?

Of course, the other party might come whining and make a fuss later, but there was a world of difference between merely pushing for marriage and desperately clinging to it like this.

“Hmm.”

The Marquis seemed quite pleased with that method.

But Herciana slammed the table in fury, “What kind of solution is that?! The only thing that changes is the groom’s face—I still end up married in the end, don’t I?!”

That voice of hers, really…

Alright, alright. Please, just shut your mouth for once. Kise frowned and covered Herciana’s mouth with her hand.

The Marquis, who had been silently covering his ears, looked pained and asked, “What’s next?”

“Next is the personal-level response.”

“On a personal level, meaning…?”

“Running away from home.”

“…!”