I Decided to Kidnap the Male Lead

Episode 33: It’s a Fairytale Meeting (III)

“She’ll probably not ask for a favor related to His Highness… No, if it’s that woman, she has the cheek to do it.”

“Because she is a young lady who is honest with herself.”

“That’s a nice thing to say, and she’s a woman who is satisfied with her intellect.”

Reflecting on Iris and Cooper’s conversation, Ophelia reassured herself.

She had to be prepared to reject Lady Sheffield whatever the reason for suddenly developing an infinite liking for her was.

‘As soon as she asks to arrange a meeting with Richard, or to tell her about his taste! I have to say I have a strong feeling that there is trouble at home, and leave.’

However, Ophelia’s strong determination was quickly overshadowed by the lady’s cheerful voice and words that she had never imagined in her dreams.

“Please be my master!”

And a grave-like silence followed.

Ophelia dug her ears involuntarily. In a very rough manner.

‘I heard some bullshit, but it’s the first time I’ve ever heard such weird bullshit, and I just want to clear my ears.’

“Is there a need to put on such a face of denial of reality? It’s common for a subject to pick a master and beg for him or her.”

From the time she brought up the topic of master and servant, Catherine, who was pressing Ophelia to speak comfortably earlier, began to raise her voice.

Seeing the glare in Catherine’s eyes, Ophelia realized that she meant it. She hurriedly opened her mouth and responded, desperately resisting the urge to pull her hair out.

“I’m just a count’s daughter, to be chosen as a master…!”

“You’re an aide to His Highness the Crown Prince. And please speak comfortably.”

Catherine was smiling nicely, but her eyes were kept alert, like a predator chasing its prey.

“Anyway, I’m just an aide.”

“While I’m just an ordinary young lady without a title.”

—Saying you’re an ordinary young lady… you’re lying through your teeth! 

The words were pushed to the tip of her tongue, but Ophelia swallowed them with superhuman patience.

“You’re not an ordinary… ordinary lady… you’re not, you’re not. You’re the only daughter of the Marquis of Sheffield.”

“I have an older brother, even though he’s stupid, so I’m not the heir.”

‘If you say it that way, it sounds like you had no ties to the succession from the beginning!’

‘Don’t lie. This woman!’

Clearly, the current Marquis of Sheffield has two children.

In this world, where superiority and inferiority were determined only by skill, there was no such thing as eldest son or male priority when appointing the successor of a family, and fierce competition between siblings to be the successor was a matter of course.

If at least a little bit of blood was mixed in and if there was some sort of talent, even if no one had heard of you, you could be a successor, so what else could be said about how fierce the competition was?

The current Marquis of Sheffield was troubled because of that.

It was not just that, like other families, the battle for succession had intensified and too much blood had flowed, and the talented people who were supposed to maintain the family in the future were dying.

“I don’t want to! You do it!”

“Why are you leaving it to me when you’re better than me?”

“Hey, you punk! Do you think I don’t know that you’re hiding your skills?”

“To call your brother a punk… uh huh.”

“Uh-huh, what uh-huh?!”

He had only two children, but both of them were jumping out, not wanting to be the next marquis.

The fact that her brother, not the maverick Catherine, had agreed to be the heir, was bizarre enough that it made the whole empire go wild.

“The anecdote about the young lady kicking the successor position away is famous enough that even I know.”

It was very strange to hear the random mix of formal speech and condescensions, but Catherine didn’t bother pointing it out.

“In conclusion, I’m not the successor, so nothing has changed. So please accept me as your subject.”

“Wait! Wait, wait, wait!”

Ophelia jumped to her feet in astonishment, like a calf on fire.

“The young lady knows that you and I can both be taken for treason if we become master and servant, right?”

“No way. The other young ladies would take it that we’re joking around. But that’s okay. If I’m with Master, I think I’ll be able to stand up to that crown prince.”

“Uh-huh, stop!”

Ophelia had come to grips with the spirit of confusion.

With that level of momentum, she would be pushed to become the leader of a rebellion and claim the throne.

If she had asked her to arrange a date with Richard, as she had expected when she decided to come here, she wouldn’t have been so confused!

Taking a deep breath, Ophelia looked straight at Catherine and said,

“You said you wanted to become a subject. With me as the master.”

A small flame flared like lightning in her blue eyes, and joy spread on Catherine’s lips when she saw it.

Oh, yes.

It was that flash.

The tiny, but eye-catching thing that made Ophelia unforgettable even in Catherine’s dreams.

“Yes. Exactly.”

To Catherine, who bowed her head, Ophelia declared mercilessly.

“Then, from the position of a master, I will refuse.”

It was a bitter rejection that left no room for a needle to go through.

But Catherine was not disappointed. She didn’t cry, and neither did she cling.

Smiling brightly as if she had expected it, she simply threw her second winning move.

“Then be friends with me forever.”

“…What?”

“A friend, a friend. A lifelong friend.”

Catherine repeated again and again, emphasizing the word ‘friend’, and Ophelia quickly blinked at her.

Even four or five-year-olds wouldn’t do this! It was a declaration.

However, since she said it so confidently and shamelessly, it didn’t even sound childish.

“Friends?”

“Yes. Not just friends. Friends for life.”

Catherine added, raising her chin.

“Or you could be my master, Lady Bolsheik.”

“Stop talking about troublesome things. Friends.”

That’s right, being a friend would be a million times better than being a master and subject with Lady Sheffield.

‘That part is clear even if I’m doing a handstand… huh?’

“Lady Sheffield.”

“Oh, since we’re friends now, call me Catherine.”

“Did you deliberately bring up the subject of being master and subject?”

“As expected of Ophelia. You noticed it at once.”

Catherine nodded her head vigorously, as if she had no intention of denying it, and instead looked at Ophelia as if she was proud, no, as if it was lovely.

This was a negotiation strategy in which you put up absurd conditions at the beginning, push and pull with the other party, and get what you originally wanted in the end.

‘What to reply… I felt like I got my nose cut with my eyes open?’ Ophelia looked at Catherine with her indescribable eyes and barely uttered a word.

“Why?”

“What?”

Point blank, Ophelia asked Catherine.

“Why are you so interested in me? Besides, friends? Those who want to be friends with Lady Sheffield can line up to the end of the empire. Of course, I won’t be one who stands in that line.”

As much as Ophelia demanded the truth from Catherine, she also brought out her inward thoughts without hesitation.

In fact, she didn’t want to hurt Catherine by saying this.

‘Honesty is an incredibly valuable virtue, but it’s also an incredibly powerful weapon.’

Wouldn’t it be sad to hear that someone you like openly says they dislike you?

Even if it was necessary, to say what you have to say and to want others to do the same…

Indeed, Catherine shut her mouth, and an uncomfortable silence followed, as if she had just swallowed a thorn.

Unable to stand it, Ophelia opened her mouth, but Catherine spoke first.

In a much calmer, much quieter voice than before.

“If I say I’ve been looking all along, will you believe me… That you’re the person I’ve been looking for all my life.”

Slowly raising her head, Catherine and Ophelia’s eyes met.

“I know. How strange I must seem now. How absurd it must be to hear that you are the person I have been looking for all my life, just because I have seen you a few times, and that I have shared a few words with you.”

A faint smile appeared.

“But it really is. What else can I say but the truth.”

Catherine’s story, which began slowly, was completely unexpected.

“Everyone reads children’s books as a child. I read them too. Whether it’s a love story or a hero’s, but my favorite among them is…”

Some day in the past, one where she couldn’t even remember how old she was.

“I will definitely meet a destined someone.”

“Fateful meeting? Are you stupid, to believe in that. That kind of thing only comes out of a fairy tale.”

“Don’t you know that reality is worse than fairy tales? It’s not that simple. It’s the most amazing thing that such an idiot has the same blood as me.”

“Looking at you, I’m pretty sure we’re siblings. So, who is your destiny?”

“A person who can subdue me once and for all!”

“People are not bears.”

“Shut up, one who shares the same blood. It’s not a physical problem. If anyone can overwhelm me so much that I can’t even make a sound, that person will be my destiny.”

“Your taste is beggar-like. Is there such a childish fateful encounter? I feel sorry for that person.”

“Worry about yourself. I’m going to hold on to my destiny.”

“If you catch it like that, the person will die. Or run away.”

“Then I’ll hang on.”

Having finished speaking, Catherine closed her mouth and smiled, her eyebrows lowering.

An indescribable silence fell between the two.

Ophelia really couldn’t think of anything to say.

Fairytale? Fateful encounter? So that means…?

Ame: There are more twists in this conversation than my pretzels during teatime. 

Dea: This went in every way but the one I expected it to go.