Kays Translations
Just another Isekai Lover~
Chapter 42: Dungeons & Dragons Core Rules 1.0
“Miss Ivna, this was an accident!”
The first to speak up wasn’t Marlon himself, but Adela—pinned awkwardly beneath him, her voice sharp with panic as she tried desperately to explain away the compromising scene.
“Yes, yes! Exactly, it was absolutely an accident!”
Marlon’s face burned scarlet. His skin wasn’t nearly thick enough to handle a scandal like this—being caught in what looked suspiciously like molesting his personal maid. His heart hammered wildly, thundering in his chest as though it wanted to burst free. One hundred and eighty beats a minute, at least, he thought frantically. I’m doomed.
And yet, somehow, even while blurting out his denial, his body moved on instinct. He sprang up from the floor in one quick motion, dragging poor Adela—taller than him though she was—up to her feet at the same time.
“I recall you once told me a little countryside saying, Marlon.”
The voice at the door was cool, edged with amusement. Ivna, who had barged in without warning, no longer wore her initial mask of shock. Instead, her lips curved into a sly, teasing smile. “If I’m not mistaken, it went something like this: An explanation is a disguise, and a disguise is proof of guilt, was it not?”
Her sharp eyes flickered back and forth between Marlon and Adela, mischief dancing in their depths. “So then, should I take your words just now as an explanation? A disguise? Or… simply the truth laid bare?”
Oh, for heaven’s sake—when did I ever say something like that to this devilish red-haired queen?!
Marlon grimaced, regret etched across his face. With a wry smile, he tried to soften the blow by playing the innocent youth. “Your Majesty, please spare me. I’m still underage, you know…”
Ivna’s laughter tinkled through the tense air. Though her words were sharp, her tone revealed she had only been teasing to break the suffocating awkwardness. The corners of her lips curved as she relented, “Very well, very well. Since you’ve addressed me so reverently as ‘Your Majesty,’ I shall grant you mercy. I won’t pursue the matter of our beloved young Marlon—the rising star author’s—questionable lifestyle any further.”
As she spoke, she reached into her pocket and produced a check, holding it out with casual grace.
“What’s this…?”
Marlon’s eyes widened. Written neatly across the slip of paper was a figure so large his breath caught—two hundred and fifty thousand Lants.
“The balance for the first batch of books, the initial payment for the second edition, and the advance for your next manuscript,” Ivna replied offhandedly, as though she were handing him a mere twenty-five coins for pocket change rather than a six-digit fortune.
“Miss Ivna, giving me such a huge sum at once—won’t that affect your plans to expand the publishing house? Truly, you could have paid me bit by bit.”
Marlon hesitated, refusing to reach for the check. He spoke with her perspective in mind, not out of greed—after all, for the moment, he wasn’t strapped for money.
“Thank you for your thoughtfulness, Marlon,” Ivna said softly, her smile deepening. “But I trust you still remember what I once told you. You are a man who values bonds deeply—and so am I. Loyalty exists only because betrayal comes too cheaply. I would rather give you enough profit to make betrayal unthinkable. That way…” Her gaze lingered on him, bright yet resolute. “That way I will never do anything to harm the fragile trust and affection we’ve worked so hard to build.”
What more could Marlon possibly say after that?
He could only bow his head slightly, and with both hands, accept the check solemnly, as if he were receiving a royal decree.
“Now then,” Ivna continued lightly, “shall we discuss that mysterious new manuscript of yours?”
Her words made clear that she hadn’t come merely to deliver a payment. No, in the midst of her crowded schedule, the flourishing publisher had carved out time to seek answers about the project that had piqued her curiosity.
Since he had already accepted her advance, Marlon couldn’t very well refuse. He tucked the check safely away, then turned toward Adela.
“Adela, could you bring us something to drink? Juice, if possible.” He remembered that Ivna favored fruit juices over coffee or milk tea.
“Right away!”
Still mortified from the earlier accident, Adela kept her head bowed low, as if hiding her burning cheeks. To her, this task was salvation; she seized the excuse and fled the study as though pardoned from death.
Ivna watched her retreating figure with a wistful sigh. “What a lovely age, that of a shy young girl…”
“With all due respect, Miss Ivna,” Marlon said earnestly, “if you were to put on youthful clothes and tie your hair into a ponytail, you would outshine any maiden. Anyone who dared say otherwise, I’d fight them to the bitter end.”
He meant it too. Beneath her queenly demeanor and imposing aura, Ivna’s delicate features could easily pass for porcelain-doll youth. Her sharpness, he suspected, was a mask to shield something softer.
“You little flatterer… How could I still be young? I’m nearly twenty-two already,” Ivna confessed, the words slipping out before she realized it.
In this world, women often married between sixteen and eighteen. To be twenty-two and unmarried—it wasn’t surprising she felt the weight of age pressing on her.
“That can’t be true! Miss Ivna, you don’t look a day over eighteen!”
Back in his old world, Marlon hadn’t lacked chances to chat with girls. He knew full well the kind of reply such situations demanded.
But Ivna’s smile dimmed, her earlier slip quickly sealed away behind her steel-queen facade once more. Marlon’s heartfelt compliment earned nothing more than a quiet, “Thank you… Now, let’s return to discussing your mysterious new manuscript.”
His praise had touched upon some hidden sorrow.
“Of course.”
Marlon didn’t press. Their bond, after all, was still that of publisher and writer—pleasant cooperation, nothing more. Personal matters were not his place to pry into. Yet, deep down, he couldn’t help but guess that her sudden sadness had to do with her engagement… an engagement he found utterly lamentable.
Shaking the thought away, Marlon turned to his bookshelf. The fresh scent of raw wood filled his study as he pulled down a thick stack of manuscript pages, along with a jumble of other notes.
On the very top page, a title was already written in bold strokes:
“Dungeons & Dragons: Core Rules 1.0.”