Another Plan

The renowned philosopher and five-star general MacArthur once said: The most infuriating thing in life is not being provoked—but having to smile, walk over, praise, and thank the one who provoked you.

“Thank you, Lord Luke.” Elia smiled sweetly while healing Charlie, her chibi inwardly cursing Luke’s entire ancestral line in crisp, resounding, furious impotence.

Luke fought back laughter, deadpan: “No, I should thank you. Brother Charlie’s tenacity and honed skill were truly enlightening.”

“You flatter me. Your creativity, insight, and vast experience from traveling the nations—I’m the one left in awe. We must spar again.”

“Absolutely.”

Watching these two ignore a heavenly beauty like her—the center of the drama—for mutual bro-mance and corporate buzzwords, Elia’s chibi rolled on the floor in rage.

Once Luke left, Charlie delivered another mental blow: “Elia, after that fight, I’m certain… Lord Luke is an upright Hero. You can rest easy.”

Rest easy my ass! That’s your conclusion after all this?! Why not just lose cleanly?! Infuriating!

Elia inwardly raged, but Charlie remained oblivious—and worse: “Elia, I wish you and Lord Luke a smooth journey.”

…

“Idiot! Moron… Who said I’m leaving?!”

Back in her room that night, sprawled on her plush bed, Elia screamed. Endless gourmet meals, countless gorgeous dresses, dozens of maids tending her every whim—this life could last lifetimes without boredom.

Only pig-brained Charlie would miss that, claiming to treat her like a sister while shoving her into a fire pit!

But Charlie’s stupidity wasn’t new. After a brief rant, Elia refocused on the true culprit.

The moment Luke’s black-haired figure appeared in her mind, fury surged—her breathing quickened.

In all her years since transmigrating—or growing up—she’d never met someone so infuriating.

“Damn Hero Luke, I’ll make you pay—”

Knock knock.

Two seconds later, the golden-haired elf maid entered.

“Iris, what is it?”

Elia sat gracefully, radiating gentle benevolence.

“I…”

Seeing Elia utterly unaffected by the day’s events, Iris’s guilt deepened. After hesitating, she knelt.

“I’m sorry, Your Highness…”

Post-duel, Charlie had briefed Iris. Relieved, she’d prepared for punishment.

Anyone could guess someone instigated Charlie and fed him intel—given his circle, she was prime suspect.

Her intent was to protect Elia from deception, but with Luke proven innocent, charges of incitement and insulting a Hero were fair.

She wouldn’t lie or deflect.

The problem: her punishment could implicate Elia, tarnishing her reputation. So she’d confess, letting Elia “righteously” punish her to distance herself.

[Idiot! If I report you, even a fool would see I’m the mastermind pushing a scapegoat. You want my reputation ruined?!]

Understanding, Elia gently raised her.

“Iris, stand. You did this for me. How could I abandon you?”

“But if others suspect—”

“Don’t mind them. Don’t feel guilty. You and Big Brother Charlie were just protecting me. I’m happy you care so much.”

[Yes—don’t fear. Next time, keep doing the dirty work for me.]

Elia added inwardly.

“Besides, Lord Luke suffered no loss… Even if something had happened, you’d be blameless. Failing Big Brother Charlie’s test would’ve proven he was problematic.”

[Next time, probe boldly. Better kill the wrong than let one slip. I refuse to believe that jerk Hero has zero dirt!]

Elia’s eyes gleamed with resolve.

Iris, grateful, realized her folly. How could wise, powerful Lady Elia be swayed by love or mind control? She must’ve seen Luke’s noble character from the start—that’s why she praised him! Iris’s every move was likely planned by Elia, who chose facts over words to convince them.

For years, Elia had never erred in judgment—every act deep, far-sighted, masterful. This time, too.

“I understand, Your Highness. I’ll fully support you and Lord Luke!”

[Good… Wait, why assume I’m adventuring with that jerk again?! Infuriating! Stop shipping everything! The palace is full of people—haven’t you gossiped enough… AH!]

A sinister bulb lit in Elia’s mind, her chibi cackling into the dark void.

Outwardly, she looked mildly puzzled: “Iris, I think you’ve misunderstood. I don’t… feel that way about Lord Luke.”

“Huh?”

Iris froze.

[Perfect reaction!]

“I only admire him—nothing like love.”

After a stunned pause, Iris’s mind caught up. Elia had never shown romantic interest. Yesterday’s behavior seemed lovesick only because Iris assumed. But as the kingdom’s strongest Saintess—too exalted for equals—finally meeting a peer in strength and character? Excitement was natural.

[I’ve read too many romance novels, gossiped too much—lost basic judgment.]

Just as Iris prepared to apologize, Elia adopted a hesitant, self-deprecating look: “Besides… Lord Luke is so handsome and powerful. So many must like him. Before coming here, he probably already has someone…”