27. Head Down

“You said we were going on a picnic!”

“We did come. An activity picnic.”

Daphne shrugged and adjusted her grip on the heavy gun. The maid, who had dressed up prettily to come along, kept whining as if she had been mistreated.

“Miss, this dress cost me two months of my salary, you know?”

Narid dramatically showed off the hem of her dress, now dirty from stepping in damp mud. The layered dress had ribbons dangling from each tier. It was certainly an outfit ill-suited for a clay shooting range.

“No wonder it seemed excessive.”

Daphne, who said this, was also wearing a black silk dress that covered all her skin.

“And! You’re not even fully healed, yet here you are trying to shoot a gun again.”

The maid, with her cheeks puffed up, was actually more upset about Daphne’s health condition than about the dress.

“Ah~ I’ll buy you a new one, I’ll buy you one. Where’s it from?”

“Never mind. I have plenty of money, you know?”

“More than me?”

“Don’t stop me from indulging in my own luxuries!”

While Kisha insisted that Daphne was surprisingly the same as usual, Narid had subtly caught on to her melancholy.

She deliberately wore clothes inappropriate for the occasion and was making a fuss, hoping to change the atmosphere for Daphne, who had been continuously feeling down.

Not unaware of this, Daphne smiled very briefly. Then, seconds later, she completely wiped the expression from her face.

“It looks like the rainy season is coming.”

Misha, who had been standing at a distance, approached and tilted an open umbrella towards her. Facing Misha, Daphne tilted her head for a moment.

‘It feels like I haven’t seen him in a really long time. Why?’

Thinking back, she had seen him briefly when she was discharged, and this was the first time since then. It was natural for him, as her secretary, to be busy while Daphne, the boss, was absent. Since Daphne and Misha were always together due to work, even a short absence felt quite long.

“It’s been a while, huh?”

Daphne lightly tapped his forearm. His grey eyes glanced at her, and he deliberately adjusted his glasses. Misha was watching Daphne’s mood.

“What?”

“Pardon?”

Misha adjusted his glasses once more. Daphne tilted her head to the left.

“Why are you watching my mood?”

Was this some kind of silent protest, like ‘The boss is playing around while I’m dying from being so busy’? It was a reasonable suspicion. Daphne gently nudged his forearm with her elbow and grinned.

“I was sick, you know. I’ll come to work starting next week. There’s nothing unusual at the hotel, right?”

“No. You can rest as much as you want before coming back.”

“Then can I rest until the national wedding event is over?”

“Ah, that’s a bit too much.”

Misha, who had been touching his glasses, lowered his hand and slightly stiffened his expression as if it was really troublesome. Daphne waved her hand, saying it was a joke.

There were only 2 weeks left until the national wedding. In other words, the success of the so-called ‘Happy Ending Project’ was within reach.

‘But…’

Daphne wasn’t happy at all. Rather, everything she had planned had gone awry.

It had been just ten days since Celestian Teriosa disappeared.

Romeo was the only person she could ask to find him, but her request was rejected, so now there was no one in Secradion who could help her.

Organizations that could move secretly had strict conditions and were very expensive. It was when Daphne, who had no friends but wasn’t short on money, stepped into the notorious underworld.

―Daphne Beaucater, your request cannot be accepted due to insufficient conditions.

A red rectangular stamp with <Conditions Not Met> engraved on it struck the back of her head.

‘Ah, Mom.’

Amber Green had tied up all of Daphne’s inheritance in a trust. It was incredibly fast for the three days while she was briefly unconscious, but this time it seemed even her father, the bank president, had taken her mother’s side.

‘I woke up to find my unlimited credit card blocked…’

If Amber were to declare here that she would convert it into real debt using the gold mine as collateral, Daphne would be saddled with an enormous debt. On top of that, she might have to sell all the businesses that were entirely her own.

―Marry the Crown Prince of Agentar.

Amber, with her alluring red lips, had informed Daphne of the solution.

‘I won’t look for him.’

For that reason, Daphne gave up on finding Celestian.

‘Actually, I didn’t even like him that much.’

She even comforted herself like this.

Because she spent all ten days playing and eating, the place where the bullet had grazed healed at a frightening speed. It was an experience that only left the lesson that she should be even more careful when shooting a gun in the future.

“It looks like the rainy season is about to start.”

Misha rubbed his fingertips together, which were wet with raindrops. Daphne looked up at the sky. Perhaps due to the gloomy weather, her yellow eyes sparkled less.

The rainy season in Secradion, which had clear skies all year round, was irregular. Since it had been raining lightly for the past few days, a heavy rain was likely to fall for a long time soon.

Although it was raining lightly, it wasn’t enough to interfere with shooting. But Narid, who was dressed up from head to toe, seemed to think it wouldn’t do and requested to leave work early, which Daphne allowed.

Bang!

With a bored expression, Daphne fired at the red targets being launched. Even though she should have been preoccupied with the increasingly fast-paced targets, she was still thinking about the man who kept flickering in her mind.

‘But really, what did I fail to do for him?’

Bang.

‘Not giving him a townhouse? Cramming him into a small bed?’

For the townhouse, she had been worried about its security, and the princess-style canopy bed suited him well.

Bang, bang!

‘He wrecked the master room himself, so why blame me?’

Even though she couldn’t give him a separate townhouse, she had been planning to soon give him a large room lavishly decorated to suit the taste of a former prince.

―Why don’t you sleep with me?

Miss.

―Sleep with me. You want to, don’t you?

Another miss.

“Ah, damn.”

Two lime-green targets soared fiercely into the sky and then fell to the ground in a parabolic arc.

Even thinking about it again made her face flush. Whatever his intention was, the sharp sensation from that day seemed to fill all the wrinkles in her brain.

―You don’t love me…

How many times had she told the prince, who was acting like he had an attachment disorder, that she loved him? Saying “I love you” wasn’t difficult, and it was half sincere.

Daphne gritted her teeth. Because of that man, all her assets were suddenly tied up, and on top of that, she was about to become her mother’s delicate bird, unable to move an inch.

That handsome face that had driven her into a corner once again…

“…Do you miss him?”

Startled, Daphne turned to look at Misha, who, in turn, was surprised by Daphne’s face, which had turned red on both cheeks.

“Who? Me?”

“No, I meant the scoreboard.”

“Hey, hey. You don’t need to bring it specifically. I’m going to win today, you know.”

The turn passed to the next shooter, Kisha. He raised the quickly loaded gun to the sky, humming as if he had been waiting for this.

“This is annoying.”

Daphne took off her wide-brimmed hat and dropped it at her feet.

“Don’t you like the hat?”

“You’re just saying that because you think you might lose, right?”

Misha and Kisha asked respectively.

“Yeah.”

Daphne answered roughly, hardening her expression.

Thud.

The bulging head part of the hat caved in with one kick from her. What was thought to be just one kick gradually became more violent. As her thin body was swaying so much that she might stumble, Misha grabbed her arm in alarm.

“Boss, you’ll reopen your wound if you do that.”

“Misha Serenade, you go over there and shoot too.”

Daphne shoved the Winchester into Misha’s arms with a thud. Misha, stumbling at the heavy weight of the gun, blinked once.

“But I can’t shoot, boss.”

“I taught you, didn’t I?”

“I may have learned from you, boss. But you know, I can’t shoot because my eyes are bad.”

Saying this, Misha tapped his glasses a couple of times.

“How can you call yourself a man if you can’t shoot a gun? If you don’t get a perfect score, I’ll cut your salary for three months, just so you know.”

“What? Su-suddenly?”

Misha, intimidated by the yellow eyes glaring at him, hugged the gun tightly. Daphne started stomping on the hat again.

Kisha and Misha looked at each other. For a moment, it seemed as if what was under her feet was someone’s head, sending a chill down their spines.

“I’ll buy the drinks.”

“Miss, you shouldn’t drink!”

“Boss, you shouldn’t drink.”

Daphne raised her middle finger once, then reached out and punched the button on the pillar. She snatched the gun from Misha’s arms and took her stance.

Red clays began to appear in the air without pause. Daphne and Kisha took turns breaking the plates, one shot each in harmony.

Kisha seemed to be in particularly good condition today, not easily giving up points. Daphne, anxious about possibly really losing, was contemplating whether to kick his shin or not.

“Well, well, if it isn’t Miss Beaucater?”

Daphne was a proper adult and a ‘boss’ with an independent business. So, it would be more appropriate to call her ‘President’ Beaucater to be formal.

Daphne glanced sideways at those who were trying to be familiar. They were aristocrat-born businessmen who supplied sugar, amenities, or cigarettes to her hotel.

Bang!

A gunshot rang out once, and a plate shattered, falling onto the grass. Daphne’s Winchester had already shot down its twentieth plate.

She lowered her gun to greet them. Kisha did the same. The shooting range, which had suddenly gone quiet, was filled with the strange laughter of the men.

“Lord Caren, Lord Darty, and Lord Hannon. How have you been?”

“We heard you collapsed from overwork, but it seems you’ve already recovered?”

“You weren’t caught up in men’s games, were you?”

“I might have been.”

Daphne answered halfheartedly. Her yellow eyes rolled upwards once, looking bored.

“You still don’t seem to understand… things like shame.”

They were too busy laughing and chattering among themselves to notice Daphne’s ‘obvious annoyance’.

“So, we were worried when we heard the news that Miss Beaucater couldn’t get up from her sickbed for three days.”

“Thank you for your concern. But I’m fine. As you can see, I’m perfectly alright.”

Misha and Kisha bowed briefly to them and then stepped back a few paces. To Kisha, who lowered his posture to ask who they were, Misha simply answered ‘The Three Idiots’.

“Idiots?”

“Lower your voice, stupid.”

“They look normal enough. Are they businessmen?”

“Yeah.”

The Shasha brothers whispered, keeping their voices as low as possible. Kisha pressed the button after breaking one more plate that had just risen. As a result, Daphne was behind by 3 points. No more plates rose.

“But today, we don’t see the First Prince.”

One man, who looked as if he had butter smeared on his head, blurted out.

“Shouldn’t we stop Miss?”

“Wait and see.”

Daphne remained still, but Kisha jumped in surprise for no reason. Misha grabbed Kisha’s forearm as he tried to approach them, though it wasn’t clear what he was thinking.

“You used to bring him everywhere, even where he didn’t belong, but now it seems you’ve grown attached to your two servants again.”

“Where is the traitor? Ah, did you perhaps tie him to the bed…?”

Kisha flinched once more. From the brothers’ perspective, they could only see the back of Daphne’s head. Her foot moved slightly once. The hat that was sticking out a bit was stomped on again with a thud by her foot.

“Hey. Shouldn’t we stop her?”

“It’s fine, I tell you.”

Despite saying that, the hat buried in the dirt seemed to be begging for its life.

Romeo had said he would announce that Celestian was dead, but since they couldn’t find any trace of him at all, that plan fell through. Along with that, the mess at the cafe also became as if it never happened.

The royal family’s control over the media was still impressive. Despite the fact that even Romeo’s ex-fiancée, ‘The Villainess of Secradion’, was shot, not a single article remained.

“Ah, Lord Darty is right. I got tired of him.”

Although her voice was full of aegyo, it sent chills down their spines.

“I thought this one might last a bit longer…”

“So I killed him.”

Daphne inserted her finger into the Winchester’s trigger. It seemed the gun wasn’t loaded, as only the clear sound of an empty gun clicking echoed.

“Haha, you tell lies so well. Should we be scared?”

“But I don’t lie.”

When Daphne retorted grumpily, the face of the businessman who had just spoken suddenly hardened.

“If you’d like to be buried in the same place as the prince, just say so. I heard somewhere…”

Daphne shrugged her shoulders and then lifted the heavy gun with a grunt. Her lips, with only one corner raised, made her look even more dangerous.

“They say human wastes buried alive are very good for tree roots.”