Don't Pick That Flower (2 Chapters Left to Complete) - Chapter 13
Noble houses of high rank, such as the Esper family, each possessed a magical communication device linked directly to the imperial palace.
Though the magical communicator allowed for swift contact, it consumed mana excessively—so much so that it was rarely used unless absolutely urgent.
Thus, when the magical communicator suddenly shimmered, Dewey immediately assumed an urgent message had arrived from the palace and rushed straight to Carlos with the device in hand.
After dismissing everyone and remaining alone in his study, Carlos touched the magical communicator, and the face of a young man appearing to be in his early twenties filled the blue crystal.
“Are you all right, Master!”
That young man was none other than Jerdin Darol Lu Kaiser, Crown Prince of the Luman Empire.
Long ago, wishing for the gentle-hearted Jerdin to grow strong, the current emperor had entrusted him to Carlos for training—a period that lasted a full ten years.
Because of this, Jerdin was the only member of the imperial family who knew Carlos’s true nature yet neither feared nor felt intimidated by him.
On the contrary, he expressed such excessive familiarity and clung to Carlos so persistently that, from Carlos’s perspective, it was nothing short of a nuisance.
But right now, he was glad to see him. Now that he knew the Temple was showing suspicious activity, there was something Carlos urgently needed Jerdin to do.
“What is it?”
Feigning complete nonchalance, Carlos asked calmly. Jerdin immediately cried out as if ready to leap up in alarm.
“What do you mean, ‘what is it’? I heard the news that you’ve been bewitched by a witch and called because I was worried!”
“You’re quick to get in touch.”
It had already been four days since the Temple published that problematic article.
Honestly, Carlos had expected Jerdin to contact him the very next day—there was no way Jerdin would stay silent after reading that article.
Yet the call came only now. Clearly, something was going on.
“Huh? I contacted you the moment I heard the news.”
Just as he suspected—something was indeed amiss. Carlos leaned back lazily, propping his chin in his hand.
“So the rumor has already spread through the capital, I take it?”
“Yes. To be precise, it started circulating last night, and my aide informed me of it this morning.”
“You’re certain it’s a rumor—not an actual newspaper article?”
“An article was published too?”
Jerdin asked in surprise when Carlos repeated his question.
“Which temple published the newspaper?”
“The Monsera Temple—the one in Kaman Territory.”
“If Kaman Territory isn’t even that far from the capital, then why hasn’t the newspaper reached here yet?”
“Someone must have blocked it.”
Perhaps the Pope himself—or maybe one of those archbishops.
Or perhaps that fellow was the culprit, or maybe they’d joined forces for their own purposes.
Goodness, with so many enemies, narrowing down suspects was proving difficult indeed. Carlos chuckled inwardly.
“I was just about to contact you myself, so this works out well.”
Carlos had been waiting until today—if Jerdin hadn’t reached out, he’d planned to contact him directly.
“Come here within a week.”
“…Huh?”
Jerdin repeated, his expression half-dazed.
“You mean… come to Esper Territory within a week?”
“Yes.”
“But even traveling as fast as possible, it takes at least ten days to get from the capital to Esper Territory.”
“If you cut down on sleep, it’s possible.”
It was a clear order: no excuses, just come. Jerdin groaned softly and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“…You’re the only person who treats the Crown Prince like this, Master.”
“And you’re probably the only one who dares climb all over me like this.”
“Well, that’s because I’m not an ordinary person—I’m your disciple. Your beloved disciple.”
Beloved, my foot. Finding the remark utterly unworthy of response, Carlos moved to end the call, but Jerdin quickly cried out in panic.
“W-wait! You have to explain why you suddenly want me to come!”
Carlos gave a cold smile.
“If you’re truly my beloved disciple, you should figure that out on your own.”
Why did the word “beloved” sound so unnerving? While Jerdin froze in place, Carlos severed the magical communication.
Then he turned to the servant waiting outside his study.
“Where is she now?”
One matter settled, it was time to deal with the next.
*
Ever since receiving the library key from Carlos, Irene spent most of her days reading books in the library.
For Irene, who could now read her favorite books to her heart’s content, it was a dream come true—but not for Jesse. She was so bored she felt twisted into knots.
“I’ve got an urgent errand to run, Miss! Please stay right here and don’t go anywhere!”
Unable to endure it any longer, Jesse finally slipped out of the library, using an urgent errand as her excuse.
Even after Jesse left, Irene remained seated, absorbed in her book. She was so deeply focused that she didn’t even notice Carlos entering through the door.
Carlos considered calling out to her, but seeing how intently she read, he decided not to disturb her and waited silently instead.
How much time passed like this? Eventually, her eyes grew dry from concentration, and Irene rubbed them before lifting her head.
“Huh?”
She immediately spotted the pair of violet eyes staring fixedly at her and jumped up in surprise, causing the book resting on her lap to clatter loudly to the floor.
“My lord!”
At this odd form of address, Carlos raised an eyebrow.
“Why am I your lord?”
Ah—was it wrong to call him that?
Since both Dewey and Jesse addressed Carlos as “my lord,” Irene had done the same, but apparently, it was an incorrect form of address.
Should she instead call him “His Serene Highness the Grand Duke”?
Or perhaps “My Lord the Lord”?
Irene hesitated, unable to decide.
Watching her flounder, Carlos finally spoke up.
“Just call me ‘His Serene Highness the Grand Duke.'”
“Yes, Your Serene Highness the Grand Duke.”
Irene quickly latched onto the answer Carlos provided.
Only then did Carlos straighten up from his slouch against the bookshelf.
“Were you reading?”
Noticing Carlos’s gaze fall on the book lying on the floor, Irene hastily picked it up.
“What book is that?”
“It’s ‘Does God Exist?’ by Sapide Henmon.”
Sapide Henmon was a renowned philosopher from over a century ago, and naturally, his writings were highly sophisticated philosophical texts far beyond the average person’s comprehension.
That Irene was reading it came as both surprising and intriguing.
“Do you actually understand what you’re reading?”
It wasn’t a mocking or dismissive question—he genuinely wanted to know. Irene’s cheeks flushed slightly.
“Sorry.”
Only then did Carlos realize his question might have sounded offensive, and he apologized. Irene, still blushing, shook her head.
“It’s all right. And about the book… I don’t understand everything, but I do grasp parts of it.”
“I see.”
An awkward silence followed Carlos’s brief reply.
Normally, such silence would leave Irene flustered and restless, but this time, it was the opposite.
Disliking the unnerving quiet that made his heart race, Carlos finally spoke.
“Pigeons will be arriving soon.”
Irene blinked slowly, not understanding what he meant by “pigeons.”
Surely he wasn’t referring to actual birds.
“It means priests sent by the Temple will be coming.”
“Oh.”
Now understanding, Irene nodded. Since priests visiting the territory was common, she didn’t think much of it—but she wondered why he was telling her specifically.
“They’re coming to see you—to verify whether or not you’re a witch.”
“…!”
The moment her confusion cleared, shock struck her. All color drained from Irene’s face, and her hands began trembling as memories of what happened in Silas Territory flooded back.
“I-I’m not a witch.”
Clutching her skirt tightly with shaking hands, Irene spoke incoherently.
“Even though I’m not a witch, they’ll still accuse me of being one—just like the lord did before, they’ll… they’ll…”
“Calm down.”
Carlos stepped forward and firmly grasped Irene’s shoulders.
“I know you’re not a witch.”
Countless times, Irene had insisted she wasn’t a witch—that she was just an ordinary human.
But no one had ever believed her. Instead, they’d shouted at her to stop lying and even struck her.
Yet now, for the first time, someone believed her.
Though it was somewhat bittersweet that this person happened to be the very Duke Esper she’d feared so much… she still felt relief knowing at least one person trusted her.
“Those bastards won’t lay a finger on you.”
His low voice rumbled firmly above her bowed head.
“I promise.”
Perhaps because Carlos had believed her, Irene found herself readily trusting his words too.
“There’s something I need you to do.”
Seeing that Irene had calmed down, Carlos revealed his true reason for seeking her out.
Something she needed to do. Shaken from her daze by this new development, Irene clasped her hands together—so tightly her skirt wrinkled—and nodded.
“Please tell me.”
Her expression was resolute, as if ready to do anything. Carlos smiled approvingly.
“That’s a good attitude. I was actually worried you’d be shocked by what I’m about to say, so I’m relieved.”
Just what could possibly require such a warning? Irene clasped her hands even tighter, though for a different reason than before.
“The Temple believes I’ve been bewitched by you—a witch—and brought you here.”
Carlos continued.
“I intend to make that claim a reality.”
“…Huh?”
What on earth had she just heard? Irene’s eyes widened in astonishment.
“Does that mean… you’re going to make me into a witch?”
A faint chuckle escaped his thin lips.
“I wonder why your focus landed there of all places.”
So that wasn’t it, then?
“What I plan to make real is the part about being infatuated with you—or rather, pretend it’s real.”
Seeing Irene’s bewildered expression, Carlos kindly elaborated.
“People are absurdly obsessed with love stories involving others. If we spread rumors about that, the false gossip labeling you a witch will vanish instantly.”
Ah, now she understood! Irene nodded vigorously, finally grasping Carlos’s intention.
“But it won’t work if only I act smitten.”
Carlos added.
“You’ll have to pretend you’re fond of me too.”
At those words, Irene’s expression darkened again.
Carlos folded his arms and tilted his head slightly.
“You must really dislike me.”
“N-no, it’s not like that!”
Irene hastily denied it, but unfortunately, Carlos didn’t believe her.
Not that he was surprised—he’d already known the truth all along.
“Even if you dislike me, you’ll have to pretend to like me when the pigeons arrive. That’s the only way to clear your name of the witch accusation.”
Irene lowered her gaze for a long moment before softly voicing her opinion.
“…I truly don’t dislike Your Highness.”
“I know.”
Carlos gently ruffled the hair of the girl bowing her head.
“Then I’ll look forward to your performance—as someone who genuinely doesn’t dislike me.”
Male lead is a clingy little husband
One-line summary: The male lead is initially an arrogant, noble, love-deprived brat, later a cute, clingy, scheming little jealous one.
Introduction:
One day, Lu Yuner’s soul transmigrates into a female-dominant world. She enters the Imperial Academy and takes up the position of a doctoral instructor, teaching classes and grading schoolwork.
One day, she encounters the young prince Su Qingwan secretly skipping class from the male academy.
As a result, Su Qingwan is punished.
From then on, Su Qingwan sees Lu Yuner as a “thorn in his side”.
But before long, this “thorn” becomes the person he cherishes most, and he goes to great lengths to win Lu Yuner’s affection.
Mini scene 1:
One day, the sun is high in the sky but Su Qingwan still hasn’t gotten up for class.
Servant Xiaoyuan: “Young prince, it’s time for class. You’ll be late otherwise.”
Su Qingwan says arrogantly: “I’m not going. I am the esteemed prince, my status is so noble, why should I suffer this hardship? Besides, isn’t learning all this just to please women? Hmph, they’re not worthy!”
Mini scene 2:
After Su Qingwan falls for someone, he completely changes. He no longer skips class and diligently learns how to be a good husband and father. But he discovers that Sister Yuner is always surrounded by admirers.
Drunk and overcome with jealousy one day, he clings to Lu Yuner, crying beautifully like a pear blossom in the rain.
Su Qingwan: “Qingwan likes Sister Yuner.”
Lu Yuner: “Young prince, you’re drunk.”
Su Qingwan: “Qingwan isn’t drunk. Qingwan likes Sister Yuner, likes you so much, likes you to bits…” Before he can finish, Lu Yuner’s eyes flash with emotion and she leans in closer.
[Reading Guide]
1. The female lead is gentle, gracious, humble and polite but not weak. The male lead is initially an arrogant, noble, love-deprived brat, later a cute, clingy, scheming little jealous one.
2. 1v1, a bit torturous in the beginning but definitely sweet later on.
_____
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