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Chapter 2
Tenuce’s indifferent expression cracked slightly at her sharply cut-off question. Selakia, feeling just a little triumphant, spoke up loudly.
“I am the duchess, aren’t I? Maybe I wasn’t before, but there’s no reason I can’t be now, is there?”
“…You’ve lost your mind.”
“I told you, I lost my memory.”
Selakia flashed a bright, innocent smile. Tenuce couldn’t say anything in response.
Back when she used to constantly read the room, such boldness was unimaginable.
They say people only become truly fearless when they have nothing left—or when they’re ready to throw everything away. Coincidentally, Selakia now fit both of those conditions.
Even if she were branded as reckless and immediately thrown out of the mansion, she wouldn’t care. In fact, a part of her even hoped for it.
In the Pangaea Empire, there were only five high-ranking noble families above the rank of marquis, making them exceedingly rare. Thus, heirs to such families were required to marry in order to inherit their titles. It was an antiquated law meant to prevent noble lines from dying out.
The only reason Tenuce had tracked Selakia down in that remote village was because of that very law. However, for the same reason, he had no real need to cling to her specifically. As one of only two ducal heirs in the Empire, he had more than enough power to replace a wife he didn’t like.
A flicker of hope bloomed in her chest, which had been pounding with anxiety all along. Selakia raised her chin a little higher, trying to appear even more arrogant.
But Tenuce, who had quickly erased any sign of confusion, showed no intention of giving her the mercy of dismissal. Resting his chin on his hand against the armrest, he gave her a deeply satisfied smile.
“Very well.”
It was the first smile he had shown her since they met at dawn.
“You’re displaying the spirit of a duchess quite admirably. Far better than when you couldn’t even look me in the eye.”
“…What?”
“I’ll have some documents prepared that might help you recover your memory.”
As if to end the conversation, Tenuce stood up.
Selakia, who had yet to clearly state what she wanted, hurried to her feet and followed him.
“Wait a moment. I still—”
“Come to think of it.”
Tenuce, striding toward the door, suddenly stopped in his tracks.
“I have a gift for you.”
“A gift?”
“Not something I prepared myself, though.”
Looking like he had just swallowed seawater, Tenuce paused as if reluctant to continue.
“Go check the reception room.”
The reception room? That meant someone had come to see her.
Selakia had no idea who it could be. There was simply no one who would seek her out.
Tenuce, with his hand on the doorknob, turned to her one last time before opening the door.
“Don’t accept service from any of the staff for the time being. I’ll assign someone trustworthy soon.”
With that, he disappeared without even waiting for her reply. He left like someone who had no regrets, having said all he needed to say.
Left alone in the room, Selakia let out a long sigh.
“Well, that’s at least one thing I hoped for.”
In the dressing room attached to her bedroom, Selakia picked out a suitable dress and changed. Her shoulders felt as heavy as if they were burdened with soggy laundry.
Since the early dawn when Tenuce had stormed into the cottage, she hadn’t had a moment to rest. From the rural place she’d been staying to the ducal estate, it took a full half-day by carriage.
Her entire body felt steeped in exhaustion. She was physically worn out, and her mind, which had been under constant tension, felt ready to snap at any moment.
“Eep. L-Lady…”
“Ah, uh, h-hello…”
And to make matters worse, every servant she encountered trembled as if they’d seen a ghost, intensifying her fatigue.
Being treated like a ghost was nothing new. But usually, she’d been the type of ghost that was barely noticeable—not one that struck terror.
“You’re working hard.”
Still, Selakia forced a bright smile. She didn’t forget to scan the faces of the staff either. Unfortunately, none of them made any particular impression.
“Are you heading to the reception room, my lady? Shall I bring some tea?”
“No need. Don’t worry about me—just go about your business.”
The maid hesitated, then bowed and quickly retreated.
After making sure no one was around, Selakia reached for the reception room door handle.
It couldn’t be, of course. But just in case someone from the Renche Viscount family had come…
Taking a deep breath, Selakia opened the door to the reception room. A familiar face came into view. Her tension suddenly gave way, and she nearly stumbled forward clumsily. She let out a weak laugh at her own ridiculousness.
A laugh of self-mockery for still holding onto foolish hopes. To think someone from the Renche family might have sent for her—just as absurd as claiming she’d died and come back to life.
“Selah!”
A man, nervously tapping his foot, turned at the sound. Upon seeing Selakia standing in the doorway, he leapt to his feet.
His behavior was unusually clumsy for him. His reddish-brown hair was disheveled as he ran over to her, and his hand unhesitatingly reached out to touch her cheek, as if to confirm she was real—so unlike the composed young master of a count’s house he had always been.
“Where the hell have you been, what have you been doing?”
His handsome face was a mess, contorted by a mixture of joy, passion, and relief.
Not exactly a flattering sight—but still the most positive reaction Selakia had received all day.
So this was the “gift.” For the exhausted Selakia, this man was truly like a present.
“Do you know me, sir?”
“…What?”
The man froze, still fussing over her condition.
Selakia bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. She knew from experience that a greater amusement still waited, like a gift not yet unwrapped.
“You’re messing with me again, aren’t you?”
The man awkwardly pulled his hand away from her face. His cautious tone suggested he was trying to gauge her mood.
“Don’t joke around at a time like this. Do you know how worried I’ve been?”
“Oh, have you not heard? Sadly, I’ve lost my memory.”
The man’s brown eyes, filled with suspicion, were now clouded with shock. Caught off guard, he suddenly swept Selakia up in his arms.
In the blink of an eye, she found herself seated on the long, plush couch in the middle of the reception room.
She’d told him she’d lost her memory, yet he treated her like someone with a broken leg. That innocent kindness finally broke her composure, and she laughed out loud. The tension in her face softened.
“You really haven’t changed at all, Chester. You always make me laugh.”
Chester stared blankly at her laughing face, then let out a calm sigh.
“I figured. Actually, it’s a relief. Seeing you tease me like always helps me feel better.”
With a thud, Chester slumped down in the seat across from her.
“Every time I came to the ducal mansion, they just said you weren’t available. And there were flyers in the square looking for a woman who looked like you. What the hell happened?”
It seemed the ducal family had desperately tried to cover up Selakia’s disappearance. Understandable, since it would do them no good to have rumors circulating that the duchess had gone missing shortly after her marriage.
Selakia nodded without much emotion and quickly wiped the smile from her face.
“Don’t get me wrong, Chester. I didn’t lie. I really did lose my memory.”
“Enough of that, Selakia. You recognize me—how could you say you lost your memory?”
“I remember most things. I just lost about a week of memory.”
“A week?”
“Yeah. Just the week right before I disappeared.”
The laughter vanished from her face, casting a shadow. Chester’s expression still held faint suspicion.
“Disappeared? It’s been fifteen days since I visited the Seyden estate looking for you. So where have you been all this time?”
“In a cabin by the sea. An elderly couple found me and took care of me. They said I washed up with the tide. I owe them my life.”
“By the sea? What were you… Don’t tell me—you weren’t thinking something dark, were you?”
Chester leaned forward, agitated. The teacup on the table rattled with his movement. Selakia steadied the cup and shook her head.
“Do you still not know me? If I were going to die, I wouldn’t have made it this far. On the day my parents died, I would have…”
“Selakia Renche!”
Chester shouted sharply. It was the first time he had ever raised his voice at her.
Selakia blinked in surprise, then chuckled softly.
“Let me finish, Chester. I meant, even then, I didn’t think about dying. You know how I survived at the Renche estate. Do you think someone like me, now a duchess, would be thinking of death?”
Chester relaxed slightly, seemingly convinced.
But the calm didn’t last—Selakia’s next words shattered it completely.
“So don’t you think it’s more likely that my death was staged than that I tried to take my life?”
Chester’s face went pale, all color drained in an instant.
