How the Romance Fantasy Male Lead Avoids Flags (5)
Estiang didn't respond. Instead, he simply stared blankly at the uninvited guest who had barged in without so much as an appointment.
A gaze utterly indifferent, as if looking at a passing stone. Normally, Helena would have bristled and started a tirade. But her opponent was Estiang Berg—the Lion of the North, Grand Duke of Berg. She had enough sense not to spew insults without pause at someone of his stature.
Swallowing the urge to snap, Helena took a deep breath and let it out. "Hoo…."
More than anything, the old butler beside her was shaking his head vigorously, desperately trying to dissuade her.
After a brief sigh, Helena elegantly lifted the hem of her dress with a graceful motion.
"A pleasure to meet you, Your Grace, Grand Duke of Berg. I am Helena Iliad."
"Iliad?"
Estiang's eyes narrowed slightly.
The Iliad Ducal House. One of the empire's three ducal families. If Berg was the pillar of the pro-emperor faction, the Iliad Ducal House stood at the exact opposite end.
But such trivialities didn't matter.
She's the villainess.
Estiang muttered inwardly without thinking.
In this world, Helena Iliad was the quintessential villainess. The archetypal noble lady from any romance fantasy—constantly sabotaging the heroine out of jealousy, clashing repeatedly until she met a miserable end as the villain.
As a key player in the original story, a glint of interest flickered in Estiang's eyes.
"Helena Iliad."
"Yes, Your Grace."
Helena's lips curved upward, revealing a haughty smile that matched her stunning beauty.
"What business does the Iliad lady have with me?"
"You're quite the famous figure, Your Grace, Grand Duke of Berg. If I said I just wanted to meet you once on this occasion, would that suffice as an answer?"
"You came here simply because you wanted to see me?"
"Yes."
Helena nodded.
Arrogant. That single word summed up her personality. In the worst light, utterly spoiled; in the best, innocently brazen.
As the Iliad lady, she'd been treated like a princess her whole life—it was the natural conclusion. Especially as her beauty had only amplified her fame over the years. Line up all the suitors who'd courted her, and they'd outnumber job applicants.
Through it all, Helena had gained one unshakable conviction: no man in the world could dislike her.
Sure, her personality might be a bit prickly, but didn't beautiful flowers come with thorns? Everyone endured it, thinking the same—which only fueled her belief.
Look at him now.
Face is my type—pass. Speech is a bit stiff. Shy guy? Whatever, doesn't matter.
Helena wore a confident expression.
The Grand Duke of Berg, whom she'd only heard about, differed from the rumors. The tales painted him as some barbarian, but in person, he was refined and slender, teetering on the edge between pretty boy and handsome youth.
I am gorgeous, after all.
Even the Grand Duke of Berg just stared at her in silence.
Helena was certain. Like every other man, he was surely smitten by her beauty.
But the words from Estiang's mouth shattered her expectations entirely.
"Then you've seen my face now, so your purpose is fulfilled? If you're done, I'd appreciate it if you left. I have important business starting now."
"…Pardon?"
"Since it seems you didn't hear me, I'll say it again. I have important business now, so if yours is finished, please leave without further disturbance."
His voice was utterly curt, leaving no room for argument.
A crack formed in the faint smile on Helena's lips.
Undeterred, Estiang stared at her with a sullen expression. He even jerked his chin toward the door, as if asking why she was still lingering.
This was impossible. At least in Helena's world.
Frozen by the unprecedented situation, Helena hesitated.
"Milady, milady."
The old butler pleaded earnestly beside her. A desperate tone begging her to keep her composure and not offend the grand duke.
As Helena staggered from the shock, the butler steadied her.
Watching the scene, Estiang felt nothing.
So what?
His face said as much.
Villainess lady, Helena Iliad. In the original story, she relentlessly tormented the heroine out of jealousy over the male leads' attention. After plenty of bullying fueled by inferiority, she crossed the line for some cathartic payoff and ended up executed.
That was the end of her role. A textbook villainess, scripted to perfection.
Calmer than I expected, though?
If anything, Estiang was inwardly surprised.
By the original Helena's temper, she should've been screaming by now.
"…Y-Your business is done, so leave. Ha, haha."
Stunned, Helena muttered as she staggered, then lifted her head. Forcing her expression under control, she plastered on a strained smile.
"My apologies, Your Grace. I'd always wanted to meet the grand duke I'd only heard about. I got ahead of myself and was rude."
"…."
"Then I'll be satisfied with seeing your face today and look forward to meeting again at the Founding Festival."
With a graceful curtsy ingrained by habit, Helena spun on her heel and hurried out of the interview room.
Watching her retreating figure, Estiang murmured.
"She didn't even get mad."
In the novel he'd read, Helena would've openly shown her irritation.
Of course, if she had, he was prepared to formally protest to the Iliad Ducal House.
Villainess? So what? I'm a grand duke.
Not the duke himself, but one of his kids versus a grand duke who'd already inherited his title—the ranks weren't even comparable. If Helena had been rude, Duke Iliad would've come running with apologies for his daughter's poor upbringing.
"Lady Roena."
"Yes, Your Grace."
"An unwelcome guest delayed us. Resume the interviews—tell Sir Maximilian to send in the first batch of pre-screened candidates."
"As you command, Your Grace."
Roena, who had stood silently behind him, nodded.
* * *
"This world is insane. I must be going mad."
"You handled it splendidly, milady."
The old butler spoke cautiously to Helena, who kept muttering to herself.
He'd been so worried she'd cause a scene that sweat beaded on his forehead.
Dabbing it with a handkerchief, he continued.
"Your opponent was Grand Duke Berg. Even for you, milady, rudeness to him isn't something that ends lightly. His Grace himself might have to step in and apologize."
"…."
"Showing up unannounced was rude enough already. Fortunately, he doesn't seem greatly offended, so count it as luck from his broad magnanimity and exercise restraint—"
"Butler."
Helena cut him off, chewing her lip.
"Yes?"
"I've got a question."
"Please speak, milady."
"That guy… isn't he a bit weird?"
"Pardon?"
It was an out-of-left-field question. The butler blinked in confusion.
But Helena was convinced.
"His eyes were strange."
"Strange eyes? What do you mean?"
"He looked at me with zero reaction."
"Zero reaction…."
"Yeah, that's it. Ugh, how do I explain this?"
She scowled immediately.
Helena was beautiful. An undeniable truth shared by anyone who'd laid eyes on her.
Whether they added that her personality was a nightmare or that she wasn't their type didn't change the baseline agreement: she was gorgeous.
But Estiang's gaze had been… different.
"His eyes were definitely off. Not like 'she's pretty, so what?' either."
"What does that…."
"Like looking at a roadside pebble? That's the vibe, but putting it into words is tricky."
"…."
The butler's eyes welled up.
Poor milady. For the first time in her life, she hadn't even gotten proper attention—and the shock was immense. No wonder she was rambling like this.
Dabbing his tears with the handkerchief, he gave her a kindly look.
"Milady. It's alright. Have you perhaps taken a liking to His Grace?"
"A liking?"
Helena's brows furrowed.
Estiang's face was her type, objectively. But his speech was overly blunt, stereotypically northern. And treating her like a roadside pebble? Unforgivable.
Her, the Iliad Rose, reduced to a mere stone? How could anyone?
And yet she'd just met such a person.
Belatedly, Helena bristled.
"Everyone else is dying to even talk to me. Ridiculous. How can a man be that oblivious?"
"Milady, milady?"
"Just watch."
Her pale green eyes blazed fiercely.
"Butler."
"Yes, milady."
"Have the butler make some inquiries."
"Pardon? Inquire about what?"
"Grand Duke Berg's tastes. See if he prefers demure and gentle types over bold ones."
"…?"
"I think he didn't like me showing up unannounced. That's gotta be it. So probably prefers quiet, obedient ladies over assertive ones?"
The butler's jaw dropped.
Poor girl. The shock had addled her brain a bit.
Regardless, Helena gritted her teeth.
If he liked prim and proper noble ladies, she could play that role.
So she resolved.
But when Helena began seriously investigating Estiang's preferences, the reality that hit her was ice-cold.
"…Wh-what? What did you say? He actually has tastes like that?!"
Estiang Berg, the man married to the Berg Grand Duchy.
His type: talents helpful for military reforms in the Berg Grand Duchy or technological advancements for territorial development.
Helena's face went blank as she received the information the butler had gathered through painstaking legwork.