WCSM 02

chapter 02

“Didn’t I explain clearly? I became the saintess’s guardian knight.”

Huh… what am I doing here?

“So stop with the nonsense. You’re not a child; it’s exhausting.”

A man with cold eyes appeared in her blurry vision.

Except he looked slightly younger than she remembered, she could have pulled out her eyes and put them back in—it was still her husband.

There couldn’t possibly be two men with that face.

“Felix Teresia, who lives and dies by his own pride…? You’re alive too?”

So shocked, she muttered, and her husband replied coldly:

“What scheme is this now?”

“Not dead…?”

“If you intend to act crazy, do it better, madam. With such pathetic acting, no one will be fooled.”

Annoying tone, flashy appearance.

It was all him.

Unable to understand the situation, she took a step back. Felix scanned her up and down with obvious disgust, then spoke with a huff.

Behind him, a luxurious carriage for serving the “saintess” followed like a display of wealth.

She had never ridden such a top-class carriage in her life.

“I… I just wanted to ask if we could at least have dinner together… since it’s my birthday…”

She only wanted to ask.

Flustered and fumbling, she suddenly remembered she had said these words long ago.

‘Ah, I remember. What day it was today.’

But that was five years ago.

Gazing at Felix’s retreating back, she suddenly realized something and shivered.

‘Impossible! That’s the uniform he wore about five years ago!’

Since the saintess appeared, many things had changed—including the paladin uniforms.

“I originally wanted to study fashion design, you see. So I know a thing or two about clothing. I cannot forgive putting something tacky on such a well-shaped body!”

The saintess had insisted on this, summoning Felix day and night.

Eventually, she even came into the house, measured him, dressed him, undressed him, and repeated the process.

It was so ridiculous that they had fought many times; she remembered it clearly.

Returning to the bedroom as if possessed, she grabbed the cracked full-length mirror and glared at herself.

Her blond hair, long praised for looking like honey, swayed at her waist. Looking at her pale cheeks and lively lips, she admitted she still looked young.

“Are you alright, madam? Did you fight again…?”

“Tara!”

Iona shouted, seeing the concerned maid following her in.

Freckles, hair braided into pigtails, gentle large eyes—Tara was the only maid in the mansion who had ever treated her well.

‘But one day she was suddenly fired. She accidentally spilled a little tea while serving the saintess.’

Iona had no power in the household at the time and couldn’t protect her. She had regretted it for a long time.

‘Seeing Tara here, it must be a dream.’

Pinching her cheek, it hurt—so it wasn’t a dream—but for now, she decided to think it was one.

“If it’s a dream… I can do as I please, right?”

She murmured gloomily. Tara, looking truly worried, approached and touched her forehead.

“Do you have a fever? If you’re sick, I can fetch some medicine.”

“No, Tara. I’m fine. What year is it now?”

“Uh… Ignareon 826.”

Thump!

Thump, thump, thump.

Her heart raced as if it would shatter her ribs.

She vaguely realized this was joy.

‘I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m twenty-three. Since it’s my birthday, it must be October.’

Then it was the third year of marriage.

She had lost so much, suffered absurdities, her self-esteem utterly shattered, and could do nothing. This must have been that time.

“Even though I begged so much, did God finally help me?”

Iona’s maiden name had been Abel.

The Abel family was known for producing generations of ministers; her father was also a minister.

The problem: her paladin husband served a different god.

Her family worshiped the glorious, abundant Isis. Felix’s family worshiped the frugal, ascetic Baldur.

The two religions were near rivals, so Iona’s treatment in the Teresia household was never good.

‘But my father didn’t care. All that mattered was what he could gain from the emperor through this marriage.’

Even hearing she suffered, the Abel family ignored it.

“Endure it.”
“Husbands are naturally like that.”
“A man always belongs to his lover.”
“If you had been gentle and persuasive, would your husband have acted that way?”
“You must know how to be a little cunning. Don’t be like a clumsy bear, tsk.”

‘So tiresome! Such words!’

Then it happened:

“That’s the saintess statue I mentioned. She wanted it in a sunny spot, so I moved it to the garden.”

“Oh my, it’s lovely!”

A bright, cheerful voice pierced her ears, like she’d laugh at falling leaves.

Unlike the somewhat dark room, outside was dazzlingly bright.

The garden had been gloomy like the rest of the mansion, but recently had been renovated at great expense.

‘Right. But it wasn’t for my birthday. Back then, I foolishly expected it.’

Her husband only spent money to place the statue in a seemingly appropriate location.

“Stingy bastard.”

Crunch.

Through gritted teeth, she saw the two figures.

A saintess with brown hair and light green eyes linked arms with Felix.

How many years had she endured that sight?

The saintess from another world had appeared in January. Felix was immediately appointed her guardian knight. Now it’s October.

He had become the saintess’s loyal dog, even erecting a statue in the house.

If it had been a statue resembling God, maybe it’d be okay—but that was considered blasphemous.

‘I died in Ignareon 831…’

Five long years.

Five years enduring him and that saintess.

Because she had nowhere to go.
No money.
No power to leave the household.

“…Bring a sturdy axe.”

Yes, it was the kind of day perfect for a picnic, sunny and cheerful.

But utterly inappropriate for attacking someone with an axe—no place for screams or blood.

Iona smiled gently and instructed Tara:

“It must be a very solid one. The heavier, the better.”

Tara looked shocked but obeyed without protest.

Fortunately.

She had returned to a time when the only child treating her like the lady of the house was at her side.

“Madam, I couldn’t find a large axe immediately, so I brought a hand axe.”

“Good. Give it here.”

At this time, Iona had never lifted anything heavy in her life.

When she died, she had no one to serve her, so she had to do everything alone—cooking, cleaning, laundry.

‘It’s heavy, but my mind can handle it.’

If only she could smash that damned saintess statue!

“Madam? Why are you out here?”

Felix frowned upon seeing her.

The saintess, as always, stared at her wide-eyed.

She had never been able to point this out, a lifelong regret.

‘I don’t even want a greeting now.’

Ignoring the inseparable couple, Iona unleashed the pent-up feelings she had held for so long:

“All! Grown-up! Mothers, mothers, and men calling for mothers! Not a single proper man!!!”

Bang!!!

“Not even one husband who knows it’s his wife’s birthday!!! Not a single proper man!!!”

Bang!!!

Gripping the axe, she ran out and struck the saintess statue.

Honestly, she didn’t know where that superhuman strength came from… actually, she did.

The tip of her head spinning with rage.

She couldn’t hold back without smashing it.

“Madam, what are you doing!”

“Move, you cruel bastard!”

Kraaaaash!!!

Crackle!

The saintess statue was hollow to save money.

Not carved from stone—it was only plaster.

Why? Because they were short on money after renovating the garden.

Focusing on one spot, the statue finally cracked.

At that moment:

Crackle!

[Constellation ‘<Urgent> Husband is in 14 pieces, what should I do’ donated 10 diamonds!]
[See? I said it’d be fun!]