Don't Get Obsessed With Me, You Romance Fantasy Scoundrels
In romance fantasy novels—especially those aimed at women—the male leads are almost always portrayed as absolute jerks. Of course, I can't deny that there's some truth to it. But let's be real: that's pretty much the average for nobles. From a 21st-century modern person's perspective, their behavior is completely insane. Yet from a medieval point of view, most of it is at least somewhat understandable.
…Well. No matter how you slice it, ruining an entire country definitely crosses the line. Still, maybe it gets a pass because they actually have the power to pull it off? …Probably?
Each one of them has a high status, outstanding looks, and matching abilities, so they rarely get criticized in the story. If anything, they're so impressive that the female protagonist ends up taking all the heat instead. Anyway, the point is, as long as you're talented, everything's fine.
So why am I desperately defending these male leads I have zero connection to?
Because I'm no better than them. So please, for the love of god—don't get obsessed with me!!
@
I let out a long, lazy yawn and flopped down comfortably on the coat I'd spread across the garden lawn, manners be damned. A smile spread across my face as I closed my eyes.
One of the best things about being born a noble in this world is that you can laze around doing absolutely nothing. Of course, that comes with conditions: you need to be born with talent, come from a good family, have an older brother with even more talent who's perfectly suited to inherit the family, and have absolutely no expectations placed on you.
But since I'd been blessed with all of those things, it was a completely meaningless assumption. On top of that, I'd earned the glorious title of the Marquisate's mangnani in exchange, so I'd call it a fair trade.
Honestly, I'd tried pretty hard to live diligently at first. I put real effort into learning proper noble etiquette, and I'd even shown interest in swords and magic once. And this was the result.
There's one common misconception people have when they only experience the medieval era through novels: that someone from the East, a land of courtesy, would find noble etiquette easy to learn. But etiquette and basic manners are completely different things.
Even most poor people who never received proper education still understand basic manners. Though, to be fair, those manners are usually just survival instincts—they only show them to people stronger than themselves.
Anyway. Noble etiquette is on another level entirely. There's even specific etiquette for eating, and it changes depending on the situation. And that's not all. When talking with other nobles, the amount of etiquette, rituals, and things you have to keep track of is overwhelming. It's way too much.
How is anyone supposed to memorize all that? You study it. If you can't remember, you repeat it until you can. Shagal. I already spent over a decade studying back in what I like to call the Land of Eastern Courtesy (also known as Hell Joseon). Do I really have to study more here? Hard pass.
And if it's the kind of etiquette nobles talk about—basically high-class, roundabout trash-talking—then double hard pass. I'd rather just live comfortably while everyone calls me a mangnani.
And surprisingly, the mangnani lifestyle isn't half bad. It's not like I'm beating people up or abusing the servants. My public reputation is just a little bad, that's all. Father isn't exactly thrilled about it, but since there's nothing else to be done, he doesn't bother me unnecessarily.
Well.
“That won't last much longer, though.”
Lying there lazily, basking in the warm sunlight, I muttered to myself. Even though I was lying on an expensive coat, I felt zero guilt. The servants would have to work a bit harder to clean it, but…
‘If I just lay down here normally, it'd be crawling with bugs.’
Yeah, this was a hundred times better than turning into a bug nesting ground. This was exactly why being a mangnani was convenient. No one thought my weird behavior was strange. They'd just chalk it up to me being me.
Getting back to what I was saying earlier, I'll be turning twenty soon. Which means it's almost time for them to start putting me to work in some way.
So, to prepare for that moment—
“For now, let's just laze around as much as possible.”
When you can rest, you should rest to your heart's content.
@
Just as I'd expected, I knew there would soon be a moment that decided how I'd be used. After all, turning twenty meant I could no longer just loaf around inside the family forever.
So I had been waiting for Father to call me. ‘Hmm.’ Well, I wasn't exactly waiting eagerly. I wasn't nervous either, though. At most, I figured I'd be learning about the family's affairs or studying what I'd need to do once my brother inherited the position of Family Head.
But Father apparently had far less faith in me than I'd imagined.
“Excuse me?”
I blinked and asked again. Father frowned and glared at me.
“You heard me perfectly well.”
“Wait, me? That? Why?”
“Because you're also a member of this family.”
My dumbfounded question made Father's eyebrow twitch. Whoa, if I pushed any further I might actually get my skull caved in. But that didn't mean I understood.
“Isn't that what Brother usually does?”
“Your brother is busy. He's working hard to prepare for inheriting the position of Family Head.”
He wasn't wrong. But I still couldn't accept it.
“So you're taking me to the banquet?”
Why on earth? Taking the guy everyone calls the mangnani to a party hosted by the Grand Duke's Residence?
“Didn't you used to beg to go? You sang about it all the time.”
“I'm all grown up now, you know.”
There was a time when I'd looked forward to parties and banquets. After all, there were lots of pretty older girls, delicious food, and all that. Plus, those pretty older girls would be wearing those tantalizing outfits, so of course I'd been excited. Those fantasies had been shattered pretty quickly, though.
The only good thing about parties was the food. Everything else was garbage. The pretty older girls were actually nasty ones who just whispered behind your back, and most of all, it felt suffocating just being there. You had to follow proper etiquette even while eating, and every single word had hidden meanings you had to catch. Even casual greetings were loaded with dozens of political calculations. It was exhausting.
“Exactly. Since you're all grown up, you can just keep your mouth shut and stay quiet.”
I had no choice but to shut my mouth and quietly scrunch up my face at Father's words. Aha. So he was dragging me along to the party to raise my value even a little, since the only thing I had going for me was a face that resembled Mother's.
“If you're thinking about causing any trouble, drop that idea right now.”
“…I wasn't thinking that.”
How did he know? I muttered while avoiding Father's piercing gaze. He snorted and continued.
“The moment you cause a scene at that party, I'll send a letter to the capital's best matchmaker.”
“If it's a pretty, rich older sister, I'd welcome it.”
“Even if the age gap is over twenty years?”
“…Father?”
No matter how you look at it, is it really okay to sell your son to someone like that? Me? Sure, I don't listen well, I didn't study, and I've done nothing but play around until I turned twenty, but that's all because I was hurting, okay? Have you ever spent over ten years just studying, Father? Oh, right—you're still living like that now.
“So don't think about anything else. Just keep your mouth shut, stay quiet, and stick by my side.”
“…Understood.”
No matter how much I liked rich, pretty, kind-hearted older sisters as my ideal type, a twenty-year age gap was too much. At that point she wouldn't be an older sister—she'd be an aunt.
Father looked at me as I quietly lowered my head, the corners of his mouth curling up in a calm smirk. In his position, he probably didn't have many options. He couldn't trust me with any family duties, and my reputation was too poor to find me a decent marriage match and make me act like a proper person.
It seemed he planned to gradually improve my public image like this and find me a suitable partner. ‘Tsk, is that even possible?’ My reputation was probably much worse than he thought. Well, Father was far more knowledgeable about noble psychology than I was, so he must have some kind of plan.
And honestly, this wasn't a bad situation for me either. The fact that he wasn't immediately sending a matchmaker to find me a bride and was instead trying to slowly change my reputation meant I had some grace period, even if it wasn't very long.
Therefore, what I had to do remained unchanged.
‘Stay quiet and well-behaved in front of them, then laze around like crazy behind their backs.’
After all, the most comfortable and beautiful view is the ceiling you see while lying on a clean, fluffy bed.