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Chapter 5



Where did everything go wrong, exactly?

Was it because I brought it up while having a daytime drink?

There was no doubt about it—he had completely misunderstood what I meant.

“Madam?”

Perhaps my standing there in silence looked strange. Cordelia’s voice reached me, laced with confusion.

Right. I’m not alone in this room right now.

To accept this absurd situation calmly, I counted slowly from one to ten in my head.

I felt a little calmer.

“Your name was Cordelia, right? Could you stay right there for a moment? There’s something I need to check.”

“Yes, Madam.”

Her answer came sharp and immediate, as if she’d been waiting for it.

What’s today’s date again?

Leaving Cordelia behind, I rummaged through a drawer and pulled out a diary that had been shoved deep inside. I opened it.

It was a custom-made diary, replaced every year to match the new calendar. I didn’t really like writing things down, so it had ended up forgotten in a drawer.

At least it’s not dusty.

Skipping past the clean table of contents, I flipped quickly to the calendar pages and began counting the days from the date of my wedding.

Just as I expected.

Today was the day—the point in the original story when, two weeks after losing her memory, Cordelia decides to find out who her true love really is.

“……?”

Still holding the diary against my chest, I turned my head and saw Cordelia tilting hers, looking at me as if to ask what was going on.

Why is the female lead, who’s supposed to go off in search of love, working as my conversational maid?!

There was only one person capable of pulling something like this. My husband—and the mastermind villain—Adrian Winston.

“I don’t remember ever asking for a conversational maid. Do you remember who assigned you to me?”

“Yes. Of course.”

I didn’t want to admit it, but it really did feel like Adrian had set this up and dumped it on me. I needed to make sure.

I was worried Cordelia might end up staying as my conversational maid forever instead of finding her true love.

“This is what I saw and applied for, Madam.”

Cordelia pulled a crumpled piece of paper from her pocket and handed it to me.

What is this?

I carefully unfolded the wrinkled paper and read what was written on it.

The more I read, line by line, the emptier my head became.

[URGENT] Looking for a conversational maid for the Duchess. Contact us if interested.

There was zero effort, starting with the title.

It looked like something scribbled down half-asleep. Somehow, I could already guess who had come up with it.

[Contact: Winston Ducal Estate]

The content wasn’t even worth reading. Just seeing the contact information at the bottom left me speechless.

“You really applied after seeing something like this?”

“Yes. When I applied, there were only three applicants, including myself. I passed the interview right away.”

Even if I drew something with my foot, it would probably be more creative than this flyer.

I stared silently at the paper in my hand and swallowed the sigh that threatened to escape.

I should’ve brought it up on a day I wasn’t drinking.

I was absolutely certain—only my husband, not one of the servants, could have made something this bland, rigid, and careless.

“During the interview… was there anything memorable?”

“There was one thing.”

“What was it?”

I swallowed dryly and waited for her answer.

“The Duke came to the interview himself and asked me if I was confident I could listen to someone else’s trivial stories endlessly until they fell asleep.”

The paper crumpled in my hand as my grip tightened.

That man—seriously! Is that how he sees me?!

I could picture it perfectly: the relaxed expression on his face, the casual way he’d asked that question.

There really isn’t a single thing about him I like.

While I was swallowing my anger, Cordelia spoke softly.

“The others beside me said it would be difficult, but I told him I liked listening to people’s stories and that I could do it as much as needed. Then the Duke said I was hired.”

I could practically see him clapping his hands in delight at having found the perfect person to dump an annoying task onto.

Thud.

I casually dropped the paper I was holding and, as if by accident, stepped on it, grinding it under my foot.

“Oh my. I had no idea something like that had happened. Well, since it’s come to this, let’s get along.”

“Yes, Madam.”

Smiling, I gently took Cordelia’s hand.

“And since the Duke personally assigned you as my conversational partner, you don’t need to be so formal when it’s just us. You can speak comfortably.”

Fine. Since he personally picked you for me, I might as well keep you close.

I glanced once more at the carelessly written paper, then recalled an earlier conversation.

“The Duke isn’t a stranger—he’s my husband, and he’s on my side.”

Who’s on my side?! He’s absolutely not!

He would never be on my side, not even until the day I died.

That utterly shameless man.


After that, I never went to see Adrian unless it was mealtime.

I changed my strategy.

Since he’d already assigned me a conversational partner, I couldn’t cling to his side and chatter away for no reason. So I decided to wait for Adrian to change his mind first.

“Try this, Cordelia. They say it’s the hottest new product these days, so I had it specially prepared.”

“I’m fine, Madam.”

I told her she didn’t need to call me Madam when it was just the two of us. If she was my conversational maid, that meant she was my person, and I wanted us to be comfortable.

Instead of chatting beside Adrian, I talked endlessly beside Cordelia. From small things to gifts, I gave everything to her instead.

Honestly, getting close to the original female lead like this didn’t seem so bad.

At this rate, should I play matchmaker? It’ll probably take her a long time to find her true love anyway.

Since I was already twisting the original story, should I help change Cordelia’s ending too?

That was when—

Knock, knock.

A knock sounded at the door.

“Madam, it’s time for you to go to dinner.”

“Oh, right. I completely lost track of time.”

Time really flew.

Realizing how much time had passed, I brushed myself off and stood up.

Will he leave again today after eating in silence? Or will something be different?

After telling Cordelia I’d be back, I walked leisurely down the hallway toward the dining room, those thoughts crossing my mind.

Maybe today will be different, even just a little.

It’s really desolate.

It felt like it had already been days since we last exchanged proper words, and today felt even more awkward.

Even sitting across from each other, neither of us tried to start a conversation.

“Wife.”

“Yes… yes? Were you calling me?”

In the middle of the silence, as I was poking at a nutritionally balanced salad, he suddenly spoke.

I couldn’t help but be startled.

“How long do you intend to avoid even a single word of conversation with me?”

…?

Isn’t that what you wanted?

Weren’t you the one deliberately avoiding conversation?

“Isn’t that what you wanted, Duke?”

I gently set my fork down on the table.

“Pardon?”

“I thought you assigned me a conversational maid because I was bothering you.”

For a moment, he fell silent, as if he’d bitten his tongue.

His brow furrowed slightly.

“I didn’t want to trouble you any further, so I spent my time talking with Cordelia instead.”

“You’ve become close enough to call her by name?”

“Yes. Since she’s someone you personally assigned, she’s a good girl in every way. She’s kind, and she always listens attentively to what I say.”

I deliberately emphasized kindness and attentiveness right in front of him.

To make the comparison painfully obvious.

“I’m glad to hear that you like her.”

“Yes. Thanks to you, I’m grateful to the Duke as well.”

Once again, an awkward silence settled between us, as if we’d never spoken at all.

“Wife.”

“Yes, Duke.”

Perhaps the silence made him uncomfortable. Adrian spoke again.

“You are not a bother.”

Oh, please. At least try to be honest.

Maybe you should attend an acting academy, Mastermind Villain.

Your face clearly says otherwise.

“So I think it wouldn’t be bad to talk with you again, like before.”

“Is that really all right?”

“Yes, Wife.”

I wanted to tell him to stop talking altogether and pretend we didn’t know each other for the rest of our lives—but I held it in.

The first step toward divorce was clinging to him like sticky rice cake and chattering until he got sick of it. I couldn’t refuse his proposal.

“Thank you.”

“…?”

“Thank you for telling me I’m not a bother. And for letting us talk again.”

I wasn’t really happy, and I didn’t feel particularly grateful, but for the sake of divorce, I could manage this much acting.

It wasn’t like we were a lovey-dovey couple who’d be together 24 hours a day anyway.

“Shall we continue eating, then?”

“Yes, Wife.”

The conversation felt stiff, limited to “yes” and “no,” but I didn’t mind and picked up my utensils again.

Today’s menu was so healthy it almost brought tears to my eyes.

In other words, it was all greens.

Well, no one can eat meat every day.

Telling myself that if today was vegetarian, tomorrow would be meat, I speared another bite of salad when his flat voice reached me.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to dine with you tomorrow, Wife.”

Yes!—No, calm down. Calm.

Suppressing my brief burst of joy, I asked,

“Why is that?”

“I have to go out. It’s related to business.”

The reason this ducal house ran smoothly like a well-oiled wheel wasn’t me—it was Adrian.

If I were the one running things, I’d have gone bankrupt and ended up on the streets. Thankfully, Adrian was perfect in every way.

“Duke.”

“Yes, Wife.”

What line would fit here?

It wasn’t hard to think of one.

“Your bunny-like wife will be waiting, so please come back quickly.”

“…?”

He froze mid-sip, his eyes wavering as if asking what on earth I was talking about.

“It’s not like I’m fox-like, after all.”

I suited being a bunny-like wife more than a fox-like one.

“I will do so, Wife.”

As Adrian shot me a once-over with thoroughly cooled eyes, I added one last remark, as if placing a spoon on top.

“And don’t forget my gift when you come back.”

I couldn’t exactly say come back safely, so don’t forget my gift would do.

More importantly, I should start looking for the medicine soon.

While he was away, I needed to search for the cure that would free me from my impending death.

If I remember correctly, the main ingredient was…

I Became the Doomed Villainess Wife

I Became the Doomed Villainess Wife

흑막의 시한부 아내가 되어버렸다
Score 9.9
Status: Ongoing Type: Author: Released: 2022 Native Language: Korean

Synopsis:


I transmigrated into a 19+ dark and tragic novel as the doomed villainess wife.
The problem? I ended up as the wife who quietly lived in the background, revealed her terminal illness in front of the villain, drank poison in front of him, and left him with trauma.

"Divorce it is."
I decided I would do only the things I disliked, ask for a divorce, and live a peaceful life in retirement!

“I hope the weather is nice tomorrow. I think it would be even better if it’s sunny every day.”
I clung to the villainous husband like a sticky rice cake and chattered away.

“I’m sorry. I don’t have any skill with my hands. Everything I touch ends up ruined.”
I proudly flaunted my talent for ruining everything I touched.

“I know you dislike me. Cough… But still… Cough… could you stay with me like this?”
Finally, I perfectly faked being sick using my naturally weak body.

I did everything I wanted him not to do, so now he surely hates me. I fled to a resort first, and sent a letter revealing my terminal illness along with divorce papers to the duke’s house.

Just a few days after sending the letter, I saw the duke kneeling before me, crying.

“I half-believed you would never leave me. That was my arrogance.”
“Duke?”
“I will fulfill anything you wish, so please… come back to me.”

Why are you suddenly taking the repentant hero route, villain? You don’t have to!

“My intention wasn’t that, Duke. It’s just that I was diagnosed with a terminal illness not long ago, and if I stay by your side, I feel like I’ll just be a burden…”

I trailed off, and he flinched, his eyes widening slightly. Then, pressing his forehead gently against the back of my hand, he whispered softly:

“If you die, I will follow you with the servants.”

…Excuse me? I’m against ritual sacrifices. The thought of him calling the servants to accompany him on my journey to the afterlife already sent chills down my spine.

“So please… don’t leave me, my wife.”

No! More importantly, I’m not dying! I’m no longer terminal!

 

Somehow, things seem to have gone terribly wrong…

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