Chapter 15
Chapter 15
The Goldrun family mansion gleamed so brightly that it hurt the eyes even from afar.
It wasn’t the kind of elegant luxury that traditional nobles wrapped themselves in. That style didn’t suit the Goldruns.
It was just gilded.
The sunlight made the outer walls glimmer, and every window frame, railing, column, and ornament reeked of money.
The nobles sneered at the Goldruns for their crudeness.
Yet when money was needed and someone came knocking at this mansion’s doors, that sneer quickly turned into a sense of defeat.
On the other hand, commoners admired this household. Just the fact that it displayed its wealth so openly and still stood unshaken was a kind of power in itself.
And now—
In a room on the mansion’s top floor, the private quarters reserved for the family, Angela Goldrun lay half-buried in blankets, her face pale and lifeless.
A thick notebook rested on the bedside table.
It was a secret strategy book Angela had written herself: the plot of the original novel [The Auto-Hunting Prince], various pieces of information she remembered, and knowledge she brought from the modern world.
Originally, it would have been a treasure.
Angela herself had thought so until yesterday morning.
But not anymore.
Now the notebook wasn’t a treasure; it was the source of her headache.
“Ugh…”
Angela pulled the blanket up over half her face.
The story hadn’t even really begun yet.
The heroine hadn’t met the male lead.
The male lead hadn’t solidified his relationship with the villainess.
In fact, in the original story, the point when the villainess and Ruang first properly intersected came later. Ruang would have needed some time to exhaust himself and ease his madness.
But Angela had skipped all those steps.
It had been too fast.
Too conspicuous.
She had entangled herself with Ruang too openly.
“I’m crazy… I’m really crazy…”
Mumbling under the blanket, Angela touched her neck.
A thin, fragile neck.
So delicate that a little force could snap it.
In the original story, there was a scene like this. In a part thick with tension, the villainess had tried to strangle the saint herself. At that moment, Ruang happened to be elsewhere, giving the villainess the opportunity.
Reading that scene had been suffocating.
But now, it was different.
It wasn’t just suffocating. Her heart thumped wildly inside her chest.
‘If Ruang’s rumor has already spread… the villainess will come looking for me as soon as she reaches the capital, won’t she?’
In the original story, things had stages.
Ruang would first confess to the saint. The saint would heal Ruang’s condition. They would meet under the pretext of the church’s mission.
At that point, there were no rumors because the meeting was official.
The problem came next.
Private meetings, nobles noticing something odd, gossip spreading from mouth to mouth, and eventually, the villainess personally confirming their relationship.
Angela had skipped all those steps.
From the villainess’s perspective, Angela was just a suspicious woman who suddenly appeared out of nowhere.
“Ugh… villainess, I’m sorry. You’re the most beautiful. Please, just spare me…”
Angela pulled the blanket over her head completely and curled up, like a snail.
Angela was normally strong-willed.
She had always tried to carve her own life, apply modern knowledge, and grow her business.
But that was only within her own domain.
Making and selling cosmetics. Running a workshop. Managing money and researching products.
Angela could handle those.
But the noble political stage was different.
Just yesterday, she had lost her energy trading a few words with a minor character like Bianca. She had no chance if she collided head-on.
She had to admit it.
She could handle business, but not noble politics.
And then her mind kept drifting to the moment she faced her father last night.
‘Ah, Father…’
“Come in.”
“Huh?”
“You have a lot to think about, so stay inside.”
He didn’t scold or shout. He simply sent her away calmly.
That was even more terrifying.
Angela had never seen her father like that. That made her even more uneasy.
Could one mistake from her shake the whole family?
“Ugh…”
Then—
Knock knock
“Miss, a visitor has arrived.”
“A… visitor?”
Angela peeked her face out from the blanket.
A visitor?
She didn’t really have anyone she could call an acquaintance.
The merchants she worked with were her father’s people, not her personal friends. She had no peers at school who were friendly, and none of the young noble ladies she met at social events were approachable.
She was a literal outsider in noble society.
And yet—a visitor?
Before she could even collect herself, the maids sprang into action.
Bathed her, styled her hair, applied makeup, and dressed her in proper attire.
Before she knew it, Angela was fully transformed into a young lady ready for visitors.
Even Iron Man would envy that speed.
Almost pushed along, Angela arrived at the parlor. She froze the moment she opened the door.
“Who…?”
“Hello, Miss Goldrun.”
“Huh? Bianca…?”
Bianca Lascaché was there, holding a teacup gracefully.
“Already calling me by name?”
“Well, fine. You’ve earned that much courtesy from me.”
Her demeanor was completely different from yesterday.
The shaken figure at the banquet, humiliated and unsteady, was nowhere to be seen. Her back was straight, her gaze steady, and even the tip of her fingers holding the cup was precise.
Elegant.
One word summed her up.
At the same time, Angela’s mind flashed through all the information she had heard yesterday:
The Lascaché Marquis family.
A family powerful enough to disrupt Manuel’s faction with a single scheme.
The presence that commanded people at the banquet.
The boldness to act first while others hesitated.
And then—
Blonde drill hair.
Right.
Drill hair.
A symbol of the villainess.
Seeing it, Angela’s expression changed instantly.
She didn’t hesitate.
“Uh… eh?”
“Biancaaaa—!!!”
“W-wait?! What is—”
Angela rushed toward Bianca, clinging to her as if her life depended on holding the last rope before a cliff.
To Angela, Bianca was no longer just Bianca.
She was the only diplomatic route for survival.
It took three maids to pry Angela off Bianca.
It was no easy task.
When someone doesn’t want to die, they gain strange strength. They lift things they normally couldn’t and endure what they normally couldn’t bear.
Angela was exactly in that state.
Bianca, caught off guard by her unexpected fervor, froze for a moment.
Now, she was just settling herself, fixing her clothes, and sipping a warm cup of tea.
Angela, however—
True to herself, she had tears in her eyes, sniffling, holding the cup.
“Phew… I came to thank you, but what is this…”
“I’m sorry…”
“No, you can’t say that to someone who saved you.”
Bianca sighed.
“I was a little surprised, but it seems you’re aware of your current situation too.”
She set down the cup and looked Angela squarely in the eye.
Angela tried to meet her gaze, her own eyes teary. A maid beside her wiped her eyes with a look of mild disdain.
“Ugh…”
“Now, blow your nose.”
“Puhng!”
“To be helped by someone like you…”
Bianca pressed her forehead.
The benefactor who saved her yesterday was in this state. A strange mix of gratitude and disbelief filled her.
Angela finally cleared her tears and looked at Bianca again.
“Bianca…”
“Miss Goldrun.”
Bianca’s voice had calmed slightly.
“Calling someone by name casually means you’re very close.”
“Mm…”
“Do you want to be that close to me? Even though I caused trouble for you at my debut?”
“Yes…”
“Why?”
Angela hesitated, moving her lips slightly. Then, in a small voice, she said:
“I… only have one friend…”
“….”
Bianca was momentarily speechless. Unexpected.
Among nobles, a friend-like figure is often a servant. Spending all day together naturally forms attachment.
But a servant is still a servant. Not truly a friend.
And becoming friends with other noble girls? Not easy. Noble families even betray each other despite blood ties.
Women at social events watch, compare, stab, and establish hierarchy. Forming a real friendship there is difficult.
Bianca first suspected a lie.
But Angela’s burst of emotion the moment she entered the parlor was not calculated. It would only tarnish her reputation.
It seemed sincere.
‘Never seen anyone like this…’
Bianca couldn’t believe it, but she decided to accept it for now. Helping repay the debt was priority.
“Alright. Let’s be friends, then.”
“Really?”
Angela’s eyes widened.
“Yes, Miss Angela.”
“Call me Angela!”
“…Not yet.”
Bianca stepped back.
She needed to establish boundaries. Otherwise, Angela would immediately worm her way in.
“So, what brings you here today?”
“I said I came to thank you.”
“Ah, for that. What is it, exactly?”
“Well… um.”
Bianca paused. Clearly, Angela and Ruang were unusual together. They had already been entangled yesterday.
Could she even bring up Ruang while thanking her for help? The atmosphere could turn awkward.
At that moment—
Knock knock
“Huh? Who is it?”
“Miss, a visitor…”
Bianca turned, commenting:
“You said Miss Angela had no friends, but she actually has quite a few visitors.”
“No, no!”
“Coming without notice like this means they must be very close—”
Thunk
A hand rested on Bianca’s shoulder.
Her body stiffened immediately.
A familiar sensation.
Exactly like yesterday.
And a low male voice came:
“Very close indeed.”
It was Ruang.
Bianca’s face instantly went pale. Anyone could see it was abnormal.