Chapter 21. A Candid Conversation of the Body

Emma was caught off guard and momentarily lost her words.

“A… a present?”

“Yes. Your present.”

Emma paused to think.

At this moment, she wondered what kind of reaction she should have, if she were truly a man.

Only then did she recall the reason Mikhail had brought her here.

“I told you, didn’t I? The princess likes promiscuous types. Fresh-faced boys never catch her attention. Got it, Charles?”

With a solemn expression, as if passing down some great and profound knowledge, Mikhail whispered like the devil.

For a moment, confusion passed through the depths of Emma’s calm blue eyes, but she quickly maintained her composure.

Possessing Charles once more, Emma looked at Mikhail with a bright smile, one befitting a young boy.

“A mere Narcissus like me having to entertain the goddess Venus herself? Isn’t that far too generous a gift, brother?”

Of course.

Only then did relief and satisfaction pass through Mikhail’s honey-colored eyes.

“I knew you’d like it, Charles.”

At Mikhail’s compliment—sweeter than rich honey—Emma couldn’t help but wish this were all just a dream.

Still, she couldn’t back out of this dreadful charade now.

With a heavy heart, Emma stepped once more toward the goddess Venus.

“My name is Charles de Ophilenz.”

“It’s an honor to meet you, Young Master Charles. I’m Nina Loren.”

Mikhail, still cheerful, spoke to Emma.

“I told you—this is my playground, and it’s strictly my territory. No one can know what happens here, and no one should know.”

“Yes, brother.”

The wicked angel gave his command, eyes folding with a smile.

“Go on. Have an honest conversation of the body with Nina.”

“…Ah, yes.”

At that moment, Emma silently repeated a prayer of repentance to God, over and over.

Because what she was doing now was, in effect, deceiving not just herself—but also God, and everyone else.

But Mikhail, who had no reason to suspect that Emma was a woman, simply found Charles’s subtly flushed face amusing.

“Nina.”

“Yes, Your Grace?”

“Congratulations on having my beautiful younger brother.”

“…The honor is mine, to serve a noble of House Ophilenz.”

It was a simple, formal greeting—yet the polite voice of the actress quivered ever so slightly.

“Then, I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

“Yes, please do, Your Grace.”

Emma, watching Nina begin to smile brightly as if nothing had happened, raised one eyebrow slightly.

‘…Come to think of it, this woman…’

Her cheeks, flushed in a way makeup couldn’t quite hide.

And those sparkling green eyes.

Anyone could see—it was the face of a woman in love.

Emma saw right through her in an instant.

…Nina was in love with Mikhail.

Indeed, Emma’s perceptiveness was honed by countless experiences over the years.

Especially when it came to recognizing the expressions of women harboring unrequited love—Emma was exceptional.

It was a sad thing to be proud of, really, but she had encountered far too many women who had fallen for her.

“Shall we go, young master?”

Still, Emma thought, Nina was undoubtedly a professional actress.

Right now, she understood better than anyone—

That love between an actress and a duke was little more than gossip.

That the great Duke of Ophilenz would never truly offer his heart to her.

He simply had too much—too much status, too much power.

But even so, being introduced to a romantic rival by the object of one’s affection couldn’t have been a pleasant experience.

Yet Nina maintained a dazzling, beautiful smile the entire time.

As Emma followed behind her, she thought—

…If Nina were just a young girl experiencing her first crush,

She might have burst into tears by now, without even realizing it.

But this wasn’t the time for Emma to be worrying about Nina.

Right now, Emma realized she was facing an absolute crisis—forced to play the role of a fake man, in the body of a woman.

‘Haa… What now?’

Beneath the calm smile she worked hard to maintain, her lips, burning with tension, were momentarily bitten.

And when the door opened to reveal the scene inside, Emma was even more flustered.

An overwhelmingly large, luxurious bed.

A tub scattered with flower petals, billowing with steam as if freshly filled with hot water.

And—

‘A… mirror?’

Gilded mirrors surrounding the entire room glinted with twisted reflections, and Emma began to seriously wonder about Mikhail’s true tastes.

It was the kind of scandalous place that Lady Gabriella, the epitome of noble propriety, would never approve of.

“Would you like to take a bath with me first, young master?”

Of course, there was no time left to be surprised or panicked about the situation unfolding.

Emma took a deep breath as she watched Nina, without a hint of hesitation, slip off the loosely draped robe that barely passed for clothing.

“Nina?”

“Yes, young master.”

Then Emma called forth the persona of Oliver.

It was time to unleash the true charm of that Oliver—the boy who made all the girls in the back alleys of Bonchons swoon.

Nina began to fill Emma’s blue eyes, bit by bit.

At most, she looked maybe two or three years older than Emma.

The situation of girls who pursued a life of acting or dancing in the capital of Bonchons was all too familiar.

Not entirely of the lowest class—well-educated to a degree—but unfortunately not from wealthy families either.

Everyone knew that “actress” or “dancer” was just a dressed-up title for a glorified courtesan.

Emma’s heart grew heavy for a moment.

Perhaps, had things gone differently, she might have lived a life no better than Nina’s.

Still, Nina was one of the lucky ones.

At least she was backed by House Ophilenz, performing for nobility in this prestigious troupe.

She wouldn’t have to suffer hunger, or go without a doctor when ill.

And yet, Emma’s blue eyes filled with nothing but pity.

This place was, in the end, just a playground for nobles.

And no one knew better than Emma how grueling it was to satisfy others in an unequal situation like this.

As a fellow woman, Emma found herself feeling more and more sorry for Nina.

So much so that her blue eyes began to glisten with moisture.

Who was pitying whom now—it was a little unclear. But still, that’s how she felt.

Emma slowly took off her outer coat and tossed it carelessly onto the bed. Then, reclining at an angle, she said gently,

“Nina. Come here first and lie down next to me.”

“…Shall I?”

Nina, mismatched with the ornate bedroom, looked at the quiet and composed boy and slowly stepped forward.

“If this is your first time, there’s no need to feel pressured, young master.”

Lying beside Charles, Nina added, her gaze seductively practiced:

“As His Grace said, everything that happens here at Violette Rêve is kept in strict confidence.”

“…”

Nina’s long, slender fingers boldly brushed over Charles’s philtrum, lightly tapping his lips.

“It means you can let out the wicked snake hiding deep inside your body anytime you wish.”

Emma couldn’t help but laugh softly at Nina’s desperate effort to seduce—not her, but Charles.

Having spent so much time with coarse laborers and hearing their vulgar jokes, Nina’s attempt at seduction only sounded like a refined Greek poem to her.

And that dry little chuckle from Charles left Nina visibly startled.

So this was the cousin of Duke Ophilenz?

Charles’s reaction, eerily calm and strangely reminiscent of Mikhail himself, surprised her deeply.

Emma looked into Nina’s green eyes, which seemed to be slowly lowering their guard, and thought—

At this moment,

What does this woman need most?

Emma looked at Nina again, this time with a gaze of pity only those who have stood on the merciless edge of life can give.

Supporting Nina’s face, a face that even thick makeup couldn’t hide the hardship and sorrow of life from, Emma—no, Charles—spoke softly.

“Nina.”

A boy with eyes so brightly blue they could melt any woman’s heart whispered even more kindly.

“Let’s forget the rest. Why don’t you just lie down and get a good, peaceful sleep?”