🔊 TTS Settings
Chapter 11
“Never see her again?”
Martin rubbed his brow like he couldn’t stand seeing me and Erica being so affectionate.
“Don’t you understand the power of kind words?”
His lips stayed pressed in a thin line, his posture slouched in his seat.
Was it that he didn’t like me getting along with his sister?
“That’s not it… why are you sitting on this side?”
Ah — so he was annoyed we were sitting on the same side.
I forced a smile.
“I get motion sickness, you know.”
“This is the first I’m hearing of it.”
“Well, have we ever ridden in the same carriage before?”
At that, Martin gave a dry little laugh and then sat farther away.
It was true — Jemma and Martin probably never shared a carriage before.
They would have taken separate ones if they traveled at all.
Even going on this trip together was a strange thing.
A joint trip, I thought.
It was a chance to earn control over finances — a test Martin had set for me.
Most of all, I needed to gain his trust.
If I wanted to stay close to Erica, I had to show him I wasn’t dangerous.
Like it or not, I’d be spending more and more time with my sister-in-law.
I can’t have him doubting me every single time.
[What’s your real intention?]
I remembered the look in Martin’s eyes when I saved Erica.
He had clearly suspected me.
Even if the birthday party had softened that suspicion a little, I didn’t know when it might resurface.
To erase his doubts, I had to get closer to him.
But how?
I’d figured out Erica’s type, but I knew almost nothing about Martin.
I never had the chance before.
I glanced sideways at him.
His back was straight, his limbs long and lean — even from the side, his profile looked sculpted.
“Do you need something?”
Apparently, my stare was uncomfortable; he covered the side of his face with his palm.
If one hand covers it, how small is his face?
He turned his head away and cleared his throat.
“Just curious.”
“About what?”
“I’ve gotten curious about you.”
His rough hand trembled slightly.
Why’s he shaking like that?
They’d been married for ten years since childhood, but how much of that could really be called a marriage?
I straightened up, turned fully toward him, and rested my chin on my hand to stare right at him.
“Why don’t we try getting along from now on?”
I gently lowered the arm he was using to hide, meeting his eyes.
The sunlight half-swallowed his pitch-black hair.
His face, faintly flushed, was fully revealed.
That face had always seemed cold and intimidating…
“L-let’s… let’s just go quietly.”
A smile spread across my lips.
Not because he stuttered.
Because the arm I’d touched just hung there, unsure what to do, before settling quietly at his side.
Because his face in the sunlight didn’t seem as dark as before.
Because maybe, just maybe, spring was coming outside.
“Let go of me,” he said.
Was it my imagination, or did his mouth twitch upward?
I really can’t figure him out.
Even without a reply, I couldn’t hide my growing smile.
The carriage sped on.
By the time it grew dark, the carriage stopped in front of a hotel in Benes.
Martin explained this was where they always stopped on the way to Delmant — to rest before continuing.
When we got out, a hotel employee unloaded our luggage and led us to our rooms.
Here it comes.
The night air was chilly, and I pulled my coat tighter.
“This way, please. I hope you have a pleasant stay.”
The room was cozy — one bed, a small table with a clock, and a window overlooking the small town’s nightscape.
The thing that caught my eye most was the queen-sized bed.
I turned to Martin immediately.
He definitely said there wouldn’t be any sharing a room.
[That, I refuse.]
I still remembered how embarrassed and awkward his sharp refusal had made me.
Martin inspected the room, nodded, and dismissed the staff.
“This should be fine for the night, don’t you think?”
I almost rubbed my eyes.
What did he mean by that? And what was with that expression?
His meaningful smile made me instinctively back away.
I stopped only when my back hit the wall.
Are we really sharing tonight?
I had been the one to say we should get along better earlier, but not this kind of close.
I crossed my arms in an X over my chest.
Martin stayed where he was, at a distance.
“Is this really one room?”
Maybe I should have brought Erica.
For a fleeting second, I pictured her sleeping at home with Mari.
Funny that I could miss my sharp-tongued sister-in-law.
“What’s with that face?”
I was a lifelong single — how could he not know what I was thinking? Martin scratched his head.
Then, as if unsure what to do, he tilted his head, then gave a small laugh.
“Don’t tell me you’re thinking something else?”
“What… do you mean something else?”
“As you can see, my room is over there.”
He held up his room key.
I stared, unconvinced, so he pointed toward the opposite door.
Through the slightly open door, I could see his coat laid neatly on the bed.
“Oh my god…”
I really must be crazy. How could I think that?
Martin shook his head and even stepped back.
“I really can’t understand what goes on in your head.”
He openly scolded me, and I had no comeback. I half-closed my eyes to avoid looking at him.
I’d made this awkward situation myself by misunderstanding.
So embarrassing.
I turned my back on him, staring only at the white wall.
“Then, rest well.”
He left with that, and I was alone in the room.
I took off my coat.
“Crazy, crazy.”
Even if his words could be misunderstood, how could I let my mind go there?
This was Martin.
In the original story, there were no details about the couple’s relationship, but from experience, it was clear they weren’t close.
[This should be fine for the night, don’t you think?]
Still, for a moment, he did seem kind.
Especially when he stuttered in the carriage — I’d never imagined that.
And that slight tremble in his rough hand.
The faint blush on his cheeks.
It wasn’t quite the Martin I thought I knew.
Maybe he has unexpected sides to him, too.
Feeling strangely wistful, I glanced out my door.
His room across the hall was firmly shut.
Just like its owner.
That was all I thought as I looked at it.
The next morning, after breakfast, I followed Martin to the busiest shopping district in Benes.
Colorful dolls hung from stalls, and there were plenty of snack stands.
I happily licked an ice cream cone, while Martin frowned.
“Your face says you don’t like this.”
“We’re not here to have fun.”
“This is when you’re supposed to enjoy yourself. Want me to buy you one?”
I waved my tiny wallet in front of him.
When I woke up that morning, there had been 100 sils on the table.
No note, but I knew who it was from.
Martin must have thought it improper to make me work on a joint trip without pay.
While my smile grew wide, his brow furrowed even more.
“So now it’s snacks instead of shopping?”
Sure, that probably wasn’t what he gave me the money for.
But it was delicious — what could I do?
At the mansion, I’d only had ice cream once.
[Ice cream? My lady! What if you catch a cold!]
Mari had fussed over me, saying the weather wasn’t warm enough yet.
Maybe that’s why, despite Martin’s criticism, I licked every bit of ice cream off my lips.
He brushed off his sleeve like he couldn’t stand watching.
“I’ll be checking your expenses carefully.”
“Yes, yes.”
Only after I agreed did he fall silent.
He was thorough when it came to money.
That’s probably why he was successful at his age.
“I’m curious — why did you bring me along?”
It was pure curiosity, no hidden agenda.
Even Jemma — and Martin himself — didn’t trust people easily, so why bring me?
“Is that a problem?”
“Even if this is a test, you don’t trust people. Not easily.”
That was why, in the original, when the Cloud family faced trouble, no one stepped in to help.
The Harold family didn’t even look at him after marrying Jemma off to him.
My confident answer made him stop walking.
His eyes were different now — curious.
Like he could tell I was asking without any ulterior motive.
“Have I ever told you I don’t trust people?”
No, but…
“And if I said you had, would you believe it?”
A brief silence passed.
Our eyes locked, the air between us taut.
His gaze seemed full of tangled thoughts, like he was confused.
Is he angry?
Maybe my words were too presumptuous.
In ten years of marriage, we’d barely spoken — acting like I knew him could easily provoke him.
Then, suddenly, he laughed loudly.
Is he actually mad?
I’d never seen him laugh like that.
Even if he covered his mouth, the sound was surprisingly warm.
Warm? No way.
The wall around his heart wouldn’t crumble from just one question.
I stayed stiff, unable to look away.
That’s when—
“Master!”
Martin’s face, just moments ago full of laughter, instantly went cold.
