The world where the Black Spoon Division’s company dinner happened had been a romance-fantasy world too.
But compared to what was in front of me right now, that world had been sorely lacking.
A bed plusher and more generous than any king-size, curtains draped on three sides.
Wallpaper patterned with golden vines, and expensive furniture arranged tastefully throughout.
Even the clothes I had on were a soft, beautiful nightgown.
No question about it. I’ve been isekai’d into a noble young lady!
And if I’m getting isekai’d, of all things…
I sincerely hope it’s the “villainess exploiting a backward setting for personal gain” kind of role.
Right on cue, a light knock sounded at the door, and I steadied my breathing.
Okay. Once the maid comes in, first thing, ask for the date.
But before I could get a word out first—
An elderly, small, plump grandmother stepped in, and I was doomed.
Because some deeply ingrained instinct for respecting my elders had me half-automatically scrambling out of bed—
“Ho ho. Did you sleep well last night, Miss Rowell?”
“Ah, yes. Thanks to you? Um, good morning?”
“Please, make yourself comfortable. The clothes you had on yesterday are right over here.”
“Ah… th— thank you.”
My official’s uniform… now that I looked, it was folded neatly on the chair by the vanity.
“Excuse me, but where exactly is this?”
“House Rupesk’s townhouse, here in the capital. You arrived last night with the Young Grand Duke.”
“…”
“You must be hungry. Once you’re ready, please come out, and I’ll show you to the dining hall.”
“Ah… yes ma’am…”
I watched, with a strange sense of resignation, as the old woman quietly closed the door and disappeared.
Then I sank straight down onto the floor in despair.
World, please just end already!
I’d been trying my absolute hardest to escape reality, and here it was, dragging me right back!
And everything I did last night, I—
I remembered.
All of it.
“Why is the alcohol here so damn strong!”
I buried my face in the vanity chair and wailed.
After years of grinding away at that company, I’m not supposed to get drunk that easy!
I’d conveniently forgotten to underline “after years” — heavily.
This body’s barely started its working life!
And the mortifying words kept resurfacing, one after another.
[Then look, can I use salt insteaad?]
[Senior, aren’t you gonna thank meee?]
I even remembered cackling by the riverbank.
The male lead must have fished me out and brought me back to this estate.
Should I be grateful he didn’t leave me on that brand-redacted folding bed back at the office?
Every fiber of me wanted to bolt from this situation.
But my working-adult instincts screamed otherwise.
No matter how loudly I demanded the Black Spoon Division’s downfall, running away was not an option here!
I am a responsible adult!
“Waaah, boohoo.”
Crying, I changed clothes and stepped out of the room.
Damn it, this romance-fantasy world had “townhouses” as ostentatiously grand as the palace itself.
That was when an urgent voice rang out from the hallway.
“Rowell. Rowell!”
“Oh, sen— gah.”
His usually swept-back bangs were falling across his forehead, and his tie wasn’t done up.
Judging by the hurry, his shirt was missing its top two buttons too.
But even so—
Wow, even messy, a handsome man’s still handsome.
I shook myself back to attention and bowed at a sharp ninety degrees.
“Senior, I’m so sorry about last nigh—”
“Let’s run.”
“Sorry? Gah!”
In an instant, the male lead had a hand on my back, hustling me forward.
“Wh— why…? Isn’t this your own house, senior?”
“No questions for now, just crouch down.”
“Huh?”
“We just need to reach that statue over there. Quickly, before—”
But before we’d even taken a few steps toward the marble statue—
“Carlyle Alfred Justinias Rupesk.”
A low, gravelly voice from behind sent every hair on my arms standing straight up.
“Where exactly do you think you’re sneaking off to, at this hour of the morning?”
Standing there with the grandmother from earlier was a massive, black-haired man, glaring at us with open menace.
Terrifying as he was, I found myself genuinely impressed — the man was strikingly handsome.
Wow, a devastatingly handsome older man.
Take the male lead, blend in a good dose of raw animal magnetism, add twenty years — and you’d get exactly this, probably.
Wait, hold on. If he looks that much alike, could he possibly be—?
Meanwhile, the male lead ground his teeth audibly.
“We need to head out now. It’s nearly time.”
“Ha, so you’ll rush off without even offering your guest breakfast, leaving her to starve? The palace is right there — what nonsense is this?”
Why did I suddenly picture a dragon and a tiger squaring off, snarling at each other?
For the record, the dragon in this scenario was the devastatingly handsome older man.
“Embarrassed to be caught with the person you’re seeing, are you? Even so, you’ll at least share a proper meal!”
And the moment those words registered—
Ah…
I want to die again and get isekai’d somewhere else.
The male lead’s father, and currently the highest-ranking noble in the empire.
None other than the Grand Duke of Rupesk.
Befitting the current Grand Duke of the North, he was one of the strongest people in this entire world, second in rank only to the Emperor himself.
But to me, right now?
Just my mentor’s dad.
And I happened to be the one currently being fed hangover soup, the morning after getting completely wasted.
In this magnificent romance-fantasy mansion, where even the cutlery and window frames glittered with jeweled inlay…
Am I really eating tomato soup for my hangover, right now, in this life?
Yes.
This was my reality, and so was my mentor’s father, smiling warmly across the table from me.
“I had them keep it light, since you’ll need to head out soon.”
“Thank you, Your Grace.”
“Ha ha, no need to be so formal! Please, eat comfortably, Miss Rowell.”
“Ah, yes sir.”
I quietly spooned my tomato soup, sneaking glances around.
There was no doubt he and the male lead were father and son, but compared to his rigid, uptight son, this man had a much more boisterous energy.
I was mortified beyond words, but genuinely grateful for such a warm welcome, when—
Ah, wait.
The spoon froze halfway to my mouth.
My hungover, thoroughly scrambled brain had finally caught up and realized something.
Doesn’t this man die too, in the original story?
The kidnapping case, the smuggling incident, the contamination at the southern resort.
He doesn’t die in any of those three major incidents — he dies caught up in something else entirely.
What on earth was that event again?
That was when the male lead, sitting beside me, spoke up, visibly irritated.
“I thought you were far too busy to spare the time. Since when have you been lounging around the estate?”
“My runaway son suddenly ordered ice cream delivered, so naturally I stayed up wondering why. Problem?”
…While I was busy racking my brain over the original story, I briefly wanted to die.
Ice cream, of all things.
Meaning what the male lead had brought me — had actually come from the ducal estate itself?
Unlike me, who wanted to die on the spot, the male lead didn’t so much as flush.
“I report in that I’m fine every single time, don’t I? As long as nothing’s actually wrong, that should be enough.”
“Reporting, you call it? Ha! You mean those scraps of paper the Black Spoon Division sends over?”
Bang!
The Grand Duke, apparently overcome with sudden anger, slammed the table lightly.
Wow, that actually cracked.
And his son’s indifferent response set off another rapid-fire outburst.
“Neither you nor that Edgar Crowe brat do a single thing I approve of! Locking everything up behind the word ‘classified’! Even the Prime Minister won’t say a word when I ask!”
“That’s what ‘classified’ means, Father.”
“Oh, how clever of you! If you’re so clever, why don’t you just inherit the title already, you damned heir!”
I nearly choked on my hangover soup.
N— no, wait, this is exactly the moment to productively try recalling the original story…
But right then, the Grand Duke pointed a palm straight at me and bellowed.
“You won’t take the title, and yet here you are with a young lady, of all things! In the middle of the night, no less!”
“Haah, Father.”
Clack!
The male lead, apparently just as heated now, set his own utensils down hard on the table. A hairline crack spread across this side too, and I quietly lifted my bowl to safety.
“This isn’t what it looks like. We were at a company dinn—”
“Carlyle Alfred Justinias Rupesk! At long last — you’ve found the young lady you’re going to marry!”
