“Did you really expect me to praise you?” I asked, but I had already prepared something.

“Here,” I said, pulling a small pouch from my bag and pressing it into Raphael’s hand. He frowned, weighing the heaviness in his palm as he looked at me with curiosity.

“And what’s this?”

“What do you think? I said I’d pay you for the praise. This is your mid-job bonus.”

“A mid-job bonus?” Raphael repeated.

“Fifty goldens.”

The trick to handling people is using the right balance of reward and discipline.

Anticipating that Raphael would pull off the task, I had brought this mid-job payment in advance. The results had actually exceeded my expectations.

But something felt off. Raphael’s expression wasn’t exactly pleased.

‘Did I not give him enough?’

No, fifty goldens wasn’t a small amount of money by any means. In some regions, you could even buy a castle with that. Could it be that he expected something more than a provincial estate?

“Is the amount too little for you?” I asked, irritated. Raphael quickly shook off his confusion and let out a soft chuckle.

“Not at all. The agreement was to ensure those two separate completely, so it’s only a matter of time until the job is finished.”

“Why are you being so slow about it? Don’t tell me the money’s not enough.”

“No, it’s more than enough. But typically, one would expect payment after the results are delivered.”

With his usual graceful smile, Raphael subtly offered me some advice. I waved it off with a smirk.

“Come on, between the two of us, why bother with formality? Besides, if you ran off with my money, you’d have plenty of people coming after you, so I’m not worried.”

“That’s… fair enough, I suppose.”

Yet his expression still seemed odd. Was there something else bothering him? I added as a precaution, “Just so you know, this isn’t the final payment. If they make it to an engagement, I’ll give you more than enough for your efforts.”

“Understood.”

“With how things are going, I think we’ll see results soon. In about a month, if everything’s stable, we’ll wrap up this contract. It wouldn’t hurt to start laying the groundwork for a breakup now.”

Raphael’s pleasant smile stiffened for a moment. I noticed it and asked, “Is there a particular reason for the breakup you’d prefer?”

“…No, nothing comes to mind.”

I wasn’t sure what else might be bothering him, but I didn’t care enough to pry. After all, I was the one in charge, not him.

‘And frankly, I don’t want to get too entangled with a main character from the original story.’

Without further hesitation, I stood.

“Let’s just say it’s due to personality differences. Anyway, keep up the good work.”

“Of course. Take care,” Raphael said, bowing elegantly. I turned coldly, not bothering with a formal goodbye, and he didn’t follow me out.

As I left the gambling den, I pulled the fake “Dahlia’s Radiance” from my handbag. It was masterfully crafted, but my eyes weren’t easily fooled. Under the sunlight, its fake shine was even more obvious.

“…”

As I stood there, lost in thought, Sophie, who had been waiting nearby, approached me.

“Is everything taken care of, milady?”

“Yes. Let’s go.”

Just as I was about to put the fake gem back in my bag, it slipped from my hand.

“I’ll get it,” Sophie said, moving swiftly, but I held up a hand to stop her.

*Crunch.*

Without a second thought, I stepped on the fake jewel, grinding it into the dirt beneath my foot. I pressed harder, shattering it further into tiny fragments.

After all the trouble this thing had caused, destroying it was incredibly satisfying. Only after it was reduced to dust did I finally turn back to the carriage.

“Let’s go, Sophie.”

“Yes, milady.”

Sophie and I climbed into the carriage. Perhaps I had been too forceful with the fake gem, as its floor was now littered with shards of glass.

“Tch.”

I couldn’t hide my irritation. Always attentive, Sophie lowered her head immediately.

“I’ll have the carriage cleaned as soon as we return home, milady.”

“Good.”

Frustrated, I leaned my head against the window, glaring at the shards I had just destroyed. I was eager to leave this day behind me.

“Let’s move.”

“Yes, milady.”

Despite my foul mood, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the broken pieces of glass, glittering in the sunlight as the carriage started to move.

Maybe it’s because it was a fake. Anything that wasn’t real seemed to bother me more than I cared to admit.

<b>* * *</b>

Three weeks passed after that.

One day, just before the Royal Annual Ball, Dahlia was left speechless upon seeing the large gift box that had arrived in her lab.

Attached to the box was a single card.

[It will surely suit you well. I had it matched to mine. Please, wear it this time.

Your fiancé.]

Blushing, Dahlia pressed the card to her cheek. Who would have thought Ulysses would send something like this?

‘Raphael was right, after all.’

Since taking his advice, Dahlia had gone to great lengths to win Ulysses’ heart back, and it had clearly worked. He was now much more affectionate.

Not only had he stopped visiting the auction houses and gambling dens, but he was also constantly sending her letters and gifts.

‘If I keep trying, he’ll only become more attentive.’

With enough effort, Ulysses would do anything for her. Eventually, he would even help her persuade the Emperor, and their marriage would be just around the corner!

Dahlia smiled brightly, still clutching the card.

‘Will Lady Evelyn be at the ball this time?’

Rumors had been swirling lately, suggesting that Evelyn and Raphael were no longer on good terms.

Not only had Ulysses changed, but the idea that Evelyn might lose Raphael—someone who had once seemed untouchable—brought Dahlia immense satisfaction.

“Happiness.”

Could it be possible to be this happy? It might be wrong to find joy in someone else’s misfortune, but Dahlia couldn’t help how she felt.

Humming a light tune, she eagerly opened the box. Inside, she found not only a dress but also shoes and accessories to match.

“Oh my, it’s beautiful.”

Dahlia held the dress against her body and twirled around, her heart fluttering. The soft cream fabric flared out elegantly, almost like a wedding dress. It was perfect.

She couldn’t wait for the ball, oblivious to how disastrous that day would turn out.

<b>* * *</b>

Three weeks and a few days after the gambling den incident, I found myself en route to Sundrium’s annual royal ball.

“Evelyn, are you sure you’re alright?”

Asil, sitting across from me, asked with concern. I snapped out of my thoughts and adjusted my fur coat, joking lightly.

“It’s just a party, Asil. I’ll be fine.”

“Still.”

Asil frowned, clearly uneasy. His concern was understandable.

Following the gambling den incident, a rumor had spread:

‘Apparently, His Highness the Crown Prince is completely smitten with Lady Hebe!’

Just as Raphael had planned, Dahlia had started to manipulate Ulysses, and the simple-minded prince had fallen for it completely.

Everything was going as we had intended, and I was quite pleased.

‘Money really is the best. There’s nothing it can’t accomplish.’

But there was one problem: the rumors circulating about me.

‘It seems the Marquis Celestian can no longer tolerate Lady Evelyn’s temper. They’re bound to break up soon!’

Of course, Raphael and I had spread that rumor ourselves.

What bothered me wasn’t the breakup rumor but the fact that people were now saying my temper was untamable, even by the most patient of men.

‘Honestly, Raphael’s temperament is way worse than mine. I’m practically a saint compared to him.’

I hadn’t gone so far as to torment Dahlia with debt collectors. If anyone had a temper beyond redemption, it was Raphael, not me.

‘…But I’ll let it slide since he did his job well.’

The upside to these rumors was that no one would dare pick a fight with me, which was a long-term advantage.

Asil must have misinterpreted my slightly sour expression because he became even more anxious.

“Promise me, Evelyn. If you want to leave, just say the word.”

“I’m not a child, Asil. Stop treating me like one.”

We were heading to the ball without Raphael. Asil, of course, knew about the rumors, as well as the fact that Raphael and I had spread them. But it seemed that he didn’t like seeing me talked about in such a way, so he couldn’t stop worrying.

“You’ll always be a child to me.”

“Come on, we’re not that far apart in age.”

“Five years is plenty.”

Oh, right. We are five years apart.