The Romance Fantasy Novel MC is Only Into Me

“From the secret organization Darkhood that worships the great Ransell Dante...”
Darkhood.

What a terribly awkward name. Ransell chuckled softly as he read through the letter.
—Please listen carefully. It may be hard to believe, but I am an old follower of Ransell Dante, and I know very well about Ransell Dante’s future.
How suspicious.

—Ransell Dante is not someone who would settle for this level! It’s such a waste of your talent and ability to just stick by a wealthy noble’s house and idle away your time. It’s like eating bread without spreading jam.
‘What kind of analogy is that?’
To be called lazy by freeloading Marigold—who would have thought.

—But don’t worry, Ransell Dante. I will take care of everything. I will grow this secret organization called Darkhood rapidly, and I will fully support Ransell Dante to become such a powerful noble that even the empire cannot mess with you.
If anyone else received this, they’d definitely mistake it for a rebellious group.
—By the way, our organization currently consists of 30 members and 5 executives.

‘That’s a lie, right?’
He would never believe it. Absolutely not.
—From tomorrow, I will send you a letter every night. I will report our progress daily, so please make sure to reply if possible. Oh, and if you want anything, write it in your reply anytime. I will fulfill anything. Just trust me. Ransell, your life is now in full bloom.

—From Lemon Verbena, leader of Darkhood.
“......”
Ransell looked at the end of the letter for a moment, then neatly burned it by the lamplight.

“Should I sleep?”
The next morning, Ransell saw Marigold pacing anxiously around him.
“Why do you keep pacing back and forth?”

“Huh? This is just... umm... nothing...”
Muttering with a sullen face, she turned away, and from her lips came a muttered comment.
“...Why do you have no reaction at all...?”
He didn’t really know, but apparently, for someone who received a letter from the secret organization Darkhood, her usual indifferent attitude was quite disappointing.

‘What reaction should I have, then?’
Ransell wasn’t so cold as to not play along with Marigold’s absurd antics.
But he had no idea what kind of reaction a “person who received a letter from a secret organization” was supposed to show, so he just quietly continued breakfast.

Only Marigold’s pouty face occasionally lingered at the edge of his vision.
.
.
.
Thump! Thump! Thump!

That dawn, Ransell woke again from a deep sleep. The culprit was a crow diligently pecking outside the window. It was about 3 a.m.
‘If you’re going to send something, send it early. Why so late?’
Yawning widely, he opened the window.

Flap flap, the crow flew into the room, and Ransell quickly caught it with his hand.
—Caw! Caw!
Knowing what was coming, the /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ crow started trembling pitifully with its eyes covered.

“I won’t poke you.”
He brought the letter tied to its ankle back in front of the lamplight.
—Yes, this is Darkhood. Since this letter came suddenly, you might not easily believe it. But Darkhood is real. We are a powerful faction in this empire truly loyal to Ransell Dante! This is not a joke. Please believe us!

‘Looks like Marigold was really disappointed.’
Apparently, she had taken the letter Ransell sent the day before as a prank from someone with nothing better to do.
In truth, he couldn’t fully deny it either.

—But I admit it. If I suddenly got a letter like this, I would also be suspicious. That was my misjudgment. Rarely, and unlike myself, I misjudged.
Ransell glanced at the crow perched on his shoulder, then returned to the letter.
—Therefore, I will show you proof of our organization. Please give us any task as a reply. Yes, please issue an order. We will do anything.

—From Lemon Verbena, leader of Darkhood.
“Hmm.”
Interesting.

Ransell smirked and quickly picked up a quill.
‘What should I write to really stump Marigold?’
He decided to keep it simple. If he demanded too much, who knew what might happen.

He wrote a brief reply in the blank space below the letter.
—Bring me the jam sold at the bakery on Rodnis 12th Street at lunchtime. That is all.
.
.
.

“Ugh!”
The next day, Ransell saw Marigold stumbling and falling at the mansion’s entrance with a crashing noise. The jar of jam she held spilled a huge amount on the ground.
“No! My jam!”

“Marry! Where have you been?!”
“J-Just out for a moment...!”
“What’s all that on the floor? You spilled it all! Clean it up right away!”

“Yes, yes!”
‘It’s ruined.’
Was this demand too much?

—Caw!
“Hmm?”
But that dawn, unexpectedly, the crow knocking on the window had a string in its mouth. A string wrapped around the jam jar.

Ransell let the bird inside and quickly opened the jar’s lid.
‘This isn’t the scent of jam sold at the bakery on 12th Street.’
Taking a bite, it tasted strangely familiar.

It was definitely filled with something he himself had made.
—The requested jam has been delivered. Will you now believe in our existence?
What nerve.

Ransell took up the pen again.
—Alright, I believe you. You are truly my follower.
The crow on his shoulder flapped its wings and flew away.

Its back looked satisfied.
—Send me a bottle of fruit wine made from apples. It’s not easy to get around here.
The next day, the crow brought the fruit wine.

—There was a dog that occasionally visited the garden. Could you bring it to my room?
The next day, Ransell received a dog tucked inside his pocket.
—What kind of clothes would suit me? Bring me something nice.

The next day, Marigold’s familiar flew in carrying four sets of clothes with great effort.
Surprisingly, they really did suit him well.
By this point, even Ransell had developed a bit of a challenge.

Such a clumsy secret organization, which most likely consisted only of Marigold herself, was steadily fulfilling his requests.
Ransell twirled the quill, wondering,
‘Can they do this too?’

—Bring me one gold coin. I’m in a pinch without money.
The next day, the familiar appeared carrying a gold coin from somewhere unknown.
—Caw!

Holding the shiny gold coin, Ransell found it increasingly hard to hide his astonishment.
‘Where on earth did they get this?’
As far as he knew, Marigold had been locked inside the mansion all day. She had been working and hiding, taking naps as usual.

So where did the gold coin come from?
If there was a possibility, it meant she had found it somewhere inside the mansion, which was also absurd. Baron Evil Shen was very strict with money management. He wouldn’t lose such a precious gold coin.
He quickly unfolded the letter.

—Here is the gold coin you asked for! This is the ability of our secret organization! If needed, we can get as many as you want!
Ransell stroked his chin.
‘Their abilities are better than I expected.’

How to put it...
‘Rather than a secret organization, they’re just errand runners.’
Well.

Strictly speaking, since Ransell was the one making Marigold run around like this, it was his own fault, but judging by what had happened so far, it was just a convenient errand service. It was far from the grand and secretive organization she had originally dreamed of.
Ransell handed the gold coin back to the crow and sent it off. The message was to return the money to wherever it came from.
‘There’s no way there are really dozens of members, right?’

…No way. Surely not.
 
“By the way, the capital’s been quite noisy lately.”
“Pardon?”

“The imperial ball, you know.”
At dinner, when Baron Evil Shen said this, Ransell put the meat he was about to eat back down.
“I heard they’re opening the whole court for the harvest festival the year after next. It sounds like very good news for young and promising nobles like Lord Ransell.”

“The year after next...”
Marigold had recently turned seventeen. Two years from now, she would be nineteen — old enough to meet the ‘marriage ending’.
“Of course, Lord Ransell, you should participate this time. I heard quite a few people even got married after the imperial ball in the past. Though that was a while ago.”

“That’s true.”
“This is the perfect opportunity to win over a noble lady and bring her to Duke Dante. When else would you have the chance to challenge such esteemed ladies? Right?”
Baron Evil Shen was already fired up even though it wasn’t his business. Marigold, who was filling his water glass, perked up her ears.

She seemed to be quite interested in the imperial ball as well.
‘It really is an opportunity.’
An opportunity.

‘An opportunity to make Marigold the imperial consort.’
For nobles in this world, ‘marriage’ was usually just a means to create marriage ties. They picked someone beneficial for their family and half-forced the marriage.
Ransell had even once been engaged to Lady Aisford, called one of the empire’s three great beauties, in a previous timeline — all as part of such a scheme.

But the imperial ball was different.
There, proposals were actually possible.
It was possible to become engaged simply by the mutual consent of the two parties at the event. Surprisingly, this was an unwritten cultural rule in the noble society of the capital.

Ransell already had a hunch why such a culture existed.
‘There are so many scenes like that in the game. Whether a broken engagement or a proposal, romance fantasy events happen around the imperial ball...’
In the end, this imperial ball was the empire’s last romance and last bastion of fantasy.

Naturally, even the royal family would attend.
‘If I get Marigold into this... this could be a game changer.’
How to woo a prince was a problem for later. The important thing was that the opportunity was given.

Yes. The imperial ball was not held often. In his hundreds of years of life, this was only the third time. It was a very rare chance.
“Can any noble participate?”
“Of course. Someone like Lord Ransell has no reason to be denied.”

“What about commoners?”
“Obviously, they can’t even come near.”
“What if someone is in the middle?”

“Entrance would be possible.”
The middle between nobles and commoners.
It referred to the honorary noble title called ‘junior baron’.

“...How does one become a junior baron?”
Baron Evil Shen looked as if to ask why he cared, but seeing Ransell urging him, he finally answered.
“First, you have to donate at least 50 gold coins...”

“And then?”
“And then, if you get a lot of recommendations from nobles... I recall the court grants the title at sunset... but why are you asking...?”
It meant that the court evaluated money and connections before granting the title. To sum up in one sentence.

“Hmm...”
“Hmm...”
For some reason, Marigold was pondering something beside him.

That dawn, Ransell began writing a letter to Lemon Verbena, Marigold’s alias, leader of Darkhood.
—Suddenly, I will recommend one person to become an executive of Darkhood. There is a maid named Mary staying at my mansion. She listens well, so make sure to include her in the organization. The plan is to have Mary obtain the junior baron title as soon as possible and send her to the imperial ball. This is all for the organization’s sake, so don’t think too deeply about it. That’s all.
‘Will this do?’

Ransell was a bit unsure but had no choice.
There were only two years. Somehow, within that time, he had to get Marigold into the imperial ball.
.
.
.

“...Lord Ransell... to me...”
“Huh?”
Marigold was dazed holding the letter.

“Is he... proposing to me?”
“What are you talking about so early in the morning?”