The Northern Mad Dog Wags It’s Tail

After finishing her meal, Britia closed her eyes and rested in her room. Her mind was occupied with thoughts of Sig Turas.

Their interactions had been rather pleasant, hadn’t they?

Britia could somewhat understand Countess Lockhart’s words. It wasn’t as if she had never considered the possibility of something more with him. If they were to become involved, she couldn’t deny that she might have been a bit more proactive in exploring that enticing prospect.

“Younger cuteness, huh? What’s that all about?” she wondered aloud, trying to understand why she had attempted to show off her cuteness. Adorably, that is.

Britia lifted her hand over her still-closed eyes and tapped her foot on the floor. Sure, she could see his tail as cute, but the idea of finding the imposing face of that massive man endearing was unexpected.

“No, it won’t work. I need to calm down. He’s too significant for me to be greedy about,” she acknowledged.

The Emperor’s favored nephew, the ruler of the vast northern territories, the strongest man in the Empire, and the Mad Dog of the North—there wasn’t a single ordinary descriptor for him. Compared to him, she felt utterly mundane, except for the fact that she found his tail adorable.

“I will inevitably end up connected to the royal family, but I have no intention of being his woman,” she firmly declared, trying to objectively evaluate herself.

At that moment, Butler Walter knocked on the door.

“Guests have arrived,” he announced.

Britia checked the wall clock; it was already three o’clock.

“Marquis Slanford timed his visit perfectly today,” she remarked. He usually arrived at half past two, trying to prepare the reception room before Sig’s arrival.

“Was he busy today?” Britia asked curiously, standing up from her seat.

The butler shook his head. “Today’s guest is not Marquis Slanford, but his representative.”

A representative? After shamelessly coming here on their own all this time, now they send a substitute. What could possibly be the reason for this sudden change?

Upon opening the drawing-room door, Britia found the most sharp-tongued woman from the Marquis of Slanford’s mansion seated on the sofa. Her name was clearly Kyra.

“You know why I’m here, right?”

No doubt, she was here to disrupt the tea party instead of Harty. However, unfortunately for her, that was no longer possible.

“Although you’ve come all this way, I’m sorry, but Dukw-nim won’t be coming,” Britia replied firmly, trying not to be swayed by her aura. She wondered how Kyra would react to the fact that her efforts might be in vain, judging from what she had observed of her personality.

“I know. He has already gone,” Kyra responded nonchalantly.

Yet, Kyra’s reaction was unexpectedly calm.

“Harty warned me to be wary of a nice and infatuated person like you. But it seems you are not just someone easily influenced,” Kyra remarked, her features still sharp and her demeanor cutting, but the venom she exuded before seemed to have dissipated entirely.

“You find it strange that my attitude has changed?” Britia couldn’t help but feel puzzled by Kyra’s shift in behavior.

“I’ll tell you this much. I don’t particularly dislike or like you. But I assure you that I will despise you in front of others,” Kyra declared matter-of-factly.

“What have I done to deserve such treatment?”

Britia asked cautiously, and Kyra chuckled lightly.

“Nothing at all.”

At that moment, the butler knocked on the door and entered the room. He offered a pot of freshly brewed tea before leaving, leaving behind a delightful fragrance.

“The root cause of all this trouble is because Hart Slanford is a strange fellow,” Kyra stated matter-of-factly as the butler exited the room. Her tone was unapologetic.

“You probably already know. No one in this world loves as passionately and annoyingly as he does,” she continued.

“No, I don’t really know anything about Marquis-nim,” Britia replied.

“Well, that’s exactly how it should be,” Kyra said with a cheerful laugh, crossing her arms.

“He genuinely believes that he deserves love from everyone because he’s beautiful. However, as you know, his personality…” she trailed off.

…doesn’t quite match up to his splendid appearance, Britia finished the thought in her mind.

“He’s a spoiled brat,” Kyra said.

“…I didn’t go as far as to think that,” Britia responded.

“While you’ve been tormented by Harty, you haven’t gone that far? You must be truly infatuated,” Kyra remarked with a smirk, continuing her explanation.

“A man with such a personality will find it difficult to be loved, no matter how attractive he may be. Yet, it’s not like a person can suddenly change to be better.”

“That’s true,” Britannia agreed.

“Huh? Aren’t you infatuated with him?” Kyra chuckled. For some reason, Britia thought her laughter resembled Harty’s.

“So, Harty came up with a solution. It’s a truly spoiled brat’s idea, but it might be the only way. Want to take a guess?” Kyra asked.

“I have no idea. I’m not…well, not spoiled enough for that,” Britia replied.

Kyra seemed to find Britia’s answer amusing as she rested her chin on her hand and laughed.

“It’s about keeping someone by your side and making them do all the mischievous things you want to do,” Kyra explained.

“So, it’s like satisfying a substitute?” Britia inquired.

“Yes, exactly. While doing that, he acts like a good-natured, well-mannered, handsome gentleman of this era and gains benefits from it,” Kyra elaborated.

“Why would he do such a thing?” Britia was genuinely perplexed by their dynamic. What could be the purpose of Kyra playing the role of a villain, especially for the man’s benefit?

“From Harty’s perspective, I’m being fully rewarded for doing misdeeds,” Kyra said, connecting her thumb and index finger to demonstrate to Britia.

“…You mean money?”

“Money, or anything that can support me and allow me to live comfortably in the future. I wonder why I go to such lengths?” Kyra questioned rhetorically.

“To be honest, I have no idea,” Britia admitted.

“You’re being quite honest. Sometimes, even a little lie can make understanding easier,” Kyra said, her eyes narrowing with a teasing glint.

“Our parents are entirely focused on their eldest son,” Kyra continued, speaking casually as if discussing what she had for breakfast that morning.

“Since I’m unmarried, I won’t inherit anything, and I might end up begging on the streets tomorrow for all I know. So, I have to resort to these methods to survive,” she added.

Kyra laughed cheerfully as she settled back into the sofa, sipping her tea.

“That means buying you the debutante dress was the last support I provided. So, I have to keep bothering you to stay alive, right?”

“So, did you come here to tell me that you’ll keep bothering me to survive?” Britia asked, her tone a mix of curiosity and sarcasm.

“No, not really. I came here as a representative. Oh, no, wait, did I come to bother you after all?” Kyra pondered with a slight frown before shaking her head, seemingly not bothered by the question.

“The purpose was not to let you and Duke Turas have a private tea time together. But it seems I failed even before I arrived,” Kyra explained.

“Well, you don’t look too devastated or disappointed about it,” Britia remarked, puzzled by Kyra’s nonchalant attitude.

“Do I have to?” Kyra shrugged. “Harty might be driven to despair, but I find it entertaining.”

Although Kyra referred to Harty as an odd and spoiled brat, in Britia’s view, she didn’t seem ordinary either.

“I’m sorry for you,” Kyra added.

“Sorry for me?”

“You won’t get to see Harty’s funny face in despair since it’ll be just me witnessing it. I apologize for that.”

It was evident that Kyra’s personality wasn’t any less quirky.

“Unlike Harty, I’m actually glad that things turned out this way. Truthfully, Duke Turas is a trauma for me,” Kyra said.

“A trauma?” Britia raised an eyebrow.

“Haven’t you heard rumors that anyone who gazes upon him directly turns into stone? Well, that’s about me,” Kyra explained.

Britia’s eyes widened. She had indeed heard such rumors. They were famous stories. However, to think that the woman before her was the same person from those stories.

“But you’re not a stone right now,” Britia pointed out.

“True, I didn’t turn into a stone, but I did faint. I was about to lose consciousness due to the ill-fitting dress, and right at that moment, I saw his terrifying face,” Kyra revealed, recounting her distress from that past encounter.

The memory of that agony mixed with the sight of his face haunted her to this day. Just thinking about Sig made her dizzy and sweat cold down her back. Kyra confided her feelings to Britia.

“That’s why I feel a bit grateful to you for preventing me from meeting him today.”

“If you’re grateful, shouldn’t you stop bothering me then?” Britia asked.

“I’ll show you some consideration and switch from pouring wine to water,” Kyra replied playfully.

What’s that supposed to mean?

Britannia looked at her in disbelief.

“Now, shall I tell you the biggest regret?” Kyra asked.

“Another one?”

Surprised, Britiia peered at the teacup.

“These tea leaves are a gift from Harty,” Kyra revealed.

“Ugh, hah!”

Startled, Britia coughed heavily while glaring at Kyra.

“Did you put poison in the tea leaves or something?”

She suspected, looking down at the teacup she had consumed quite a lot of.

“You think too poorly of us,” Kyra said.

“They’re people who come to bother me every day.”

“I came only for today,” Kyra countered.

Britia squinted her eyes, giving Kyra a stern look.

“Originally, Harty was planning to come today, but like a fool, he fell down the mansion stairs and can’t move now.”

Kyra chuckled as she remarked that Harty could have simply ordered others to do the mischievous deeds for him instead of attempting them himself.

“Is he hurt?”

“Are you concerned about that man now? Fine, I get it. You may seem kind, but when pushed beyond a certain point, you writhe like a worm,” Kyra teased.

A worm? Britiia questioned her hearing.

“Let me give you some advice that could become bone and flesh. Be careful not to fall for Harty’s obsession.”

Kyra looked down at the teacup and smirked.

“Although, it might be too late already. I can see the signs.”

“What?”

“Are you sure Harty Slanford is ordinary?”

Kyra gazed at Britia with a genuinely pitiful expression.

“The man he adores and obsesses over, Duke Turas, wasn’t his type at first either. But now, look at how he’s secretly obsessed with Duke-nim.”

Britia’s expression grew more serious as she listened.

“At least Duke Turas doesn’t know about Harty’s true nature, so he can do such things behind his back. But you already know that man is a mischievous troublemaker.”

“However…”

It was absurd. Sig was Harty’s benefactor, and their situation was different. Why would that man be obsessed with her? Despite denying it, Britia couldn’t help but imagine the possibility, and a chill ran down her spine.

“Even now, he’s a nuisance, isn’t he? But mark my words, if he starts obsessing openly, a future much more troublesome than the present awaits you.”

After dropping such a bombshell, Kyra laughed, got up from her seat, and said, “Still, personally, I’m rooting for a connection between you and Duke-nim.”

“I don’t understand. Aren’t you on his side?”

“Just because I do his dirty work doesn’t mean I’m on his side. I’m only doing bad things that align with your and Duke-nim’s interests.”

Britia expressed doubt as to why Kyra would support them, and Kyra smirked in response.

“Imagining Harty Slanford falling into a rage and collapsing if you two were to get married is quite enjoyable, you know.”

Britia’s lips slightly parted.

Indeed, she realized that Kyra’s personality was just as bad as Harty’s.