IBDVW 15

Chapter 15

[“What are you talking about?”
“That’s exactly what I just said.”
“That’s impossible. There’s no way that child is my biological daughter. My daughter is perfectly fine and living in this house!”
“They were switched twenty years ago.”]

I knew it.

Rustle, rustle.

They say trashy dramas and melodramatic novels are always entertaining, no matter when you read them—and they weren’t wrong. Sitting in a secluded corner of the library, quietly chuckling as I read each line had its own special charm.

This would be perfect if I had some snacks or juice. That’s the real shame.

This wasn’t why I came to the library in the first place, but the moment I stepped inside, my gaze naturally drifted toward the bestseller section.

“Madam, are you sure you can finish all of these today?”

“I can just borrow some of them.”

From romance novels with red labels to mystery stories packed with nonstop twists and incidents, I’d already piled all the interesting-looking books onto the table.

“Borrow these too. I’ll go look for the book I actually need and catch up with you later.”

I nearly forgot completely and almost had to come back again.

Well then, I guess it’s time to find it.

After watching the maid walk away, I scanned the category-labeled shelves and headed straight for the far-right bookcase.

“Found it.”

It was a book with a yellow cover, decorated with colorful illustrations of various foods.

[A Recipe Notebook to Show Off Your Skills]

The title was so perfectly chosen that it made the book easy to spot.

The first plan is halfway successful. Now it’s time to push forward with the second.

I’d almost succeeded in sticking close to Adrian like a rice cake clinging together. Now it was time to let him know that I had a special talent for ruining everything I touched.

Whenever you cause trouble, always aim for the optimal timing and opportunity!

And today was that day.

These hands of mine never betray loyalty when brewing tea. It should be the same in other areas.

Don’t suddenly pretend to be talented and show off in front of others. Got it? Stay loyal, my hands.

“Madam, it’s over here.”

“Okay, I’m coming.”

Having found the book that would lead my second plan toward success, I borrowed it with a light heart and boarded the carriage.

“But Madam, why did you suddenly borrow a cookbook?”

“It doesn’t mean anything in particular. I feel like I’ve been wasting too much time. I want to look for things I might be good at.”

Of course, no matter how hard I tried, finding something I was actually good at was probably impossible.

“Rather than just sitting around, if I find something I can do well, it might help the Duke too.”

Clutching the book tightly to my chest, I spoke in the most hopeful voice I could manage, saying something that sounded nearly impossible.

Though it feels more like I’d help him waste more of his assets instead. But that would only make him want a divorce more, right?

Helping to increase his wealth would be one thing—but if I drained it and indulged in extravagance instead, he’d definitely hate that.

“Madam.”

“Hm?”

The maid in front of me looked like she’d completely misunderstood my intentions.

Why are you suddenly looking at me like you’re about to cry?

Did I say something wrong? No, I didn’t think so.

Just as I stood there confused, she spoke.

“If you ever need help, please feel free to ask us.”

“I will.”

“We should have understood your feelings sooner, Madam. We were too insensitive. Don’t worry about the Duke’s feelings—if he acts clueless, we can always step on his foot and pretend it was an accident.”

Uh… was that really necessary?

Wouldn’t you all get fired for that?

More importantly, I hadn’t been insensitive, and I didn’t think worrying about Adrian’s feelings was necessary either.

“Well… okay. I’ll let you know if I need help.”

“Yes, Madam.”

Well, they were offering to help me, so I supposed it was fine.

That just meant I had more people helping me get divorced.

This is strange. They said this was the right way to do it.

Aren’t the illustrations way too simplified?

Flipping through the borrowed cookbook and examining the pictures alongside the explanations, I let out a sigh.

“They said this was easy home baking anyone could do.”

So even this was beyond the reach of my cursed hands.

They should’ve included recipes for absolute beginners, not just beginners.

No matter how I looked at it, my hands didn’t even qualify as beginner-level.

Though that did mean I was one step closer to ruining things.

Still, I wanted to spend time baking after the divorce.

That idyllic fantasy of a simple countryside life felt like it had cracked slightly after colliding with reality.

“Madam, would you like us to help?”

“No, it’s fine. I can handle this on my own.”

If I couldn’t even manage this, how hard would the rest of my life be?

Slice.

“Ah.”

I cut myself.

With what? The kitchen knife.

“Madam!”

Seeing a bead of blood form on my finger, panicked voices erupted around me.

The kitchen descended into chaos in an instant.

This will heal quickly if I just put some medicine on it.

Anyone watching would think I was about to die.

“I’m not dying today. It’s just a small cut—stop overreacting.”

Despite my words, more and more bandages kept appearing on my finger as time passed.

Let’s remove home baking from my post-divorce goals.

That kind of romantic, idealistic lifestyle was clearly far beyond my reach.

“All done.”

Still, the walnut pie and scones turned out reasonably presentable.

My fingers had made enough sacrifices—there was no way I’d fail to produce at least one result.

“Where is the Duke?”

“He’s in his room.”

“Is that so?”

Then I should hurry.

I neatly folded my apron, carefully transferred the walnut pie and scones onto a plate, and held it gently.

“I’ll be back.”

“Good luck, Madam!”

I wasn’t sure what exactly they were wishing success for, but it sounded positive, so I smiled awkwardly and headed toward Adrian’s room.

Knock, knock.

I decided to start by showing him the failed results of my home baking attempt.

No matter how decent it looks, it’s still a failure.

They say food that looks good tastes good too, but this wasn’t anything particularly impressive.

It was the kind of result that taught you store-bought was better.

“Good afternoon, Duke.”

“What brings you here at this hour, Madam?”

As expected, he seemed unwilling to accept visits without a purpose—his voice was sharp the moment I entered.

“I’ve been trying to find a new hobby and experimenting with a few things. Today, I tried home baking. I brought some for you.”

I approached him as he sat on the bed and offered the plate with the walnut pie and scones.

He won’t like it, will he?

Just say you hate it. Or accept it and secretly throw it away—I’ll forgive you.

Adrian looked from my hand holding the plate to the baked goods themselves and chose silence.

No comment at all.

“Well then, I’ll be going. There are still many things I want to try.”

I’d given him the food—time to leave.

I should return the book soon.

Making things and I were like oil and water.

Too incompatible to ever mix.

Ugh.

A lot happened after that.

I tried to help organize the display cabinet and ended up breaking sixteen expensive teacups and plates.

I tried helping the gardener too, only to kill perfectly healthy plants.

If I’d possessed a maid, I’d have been fired on the first day.

By now, everyone in the mansion must have grown to dislike me.

Everything I touched ended in disaster.

“Aren’t you busy today, Duke?”

“I thought spending time with my wife wouldn’t be a bad idea.”

More than that, it probably meant he wanted to keep an eye on me so I wouldn’t cause any more accidents.

He really is bad at speaking indirectly. But that’s also what makes him nice.

He didn’t like beating around the bush—it took too long to decipher.

And since Adrian was terrible at indirect speech, it was easy to understand his intentions. That was one of his good points.

“This is my first time seeing such a large bookshelf. Have you read all of these?”

“Not all of them.”

That made sense.

You’d need to start young and invest a lot of time to read all of these.

I climbed the ladder placed in front of the bookshelf and looked around.

The massive room held even more books than the library.

Managing them must have been difficult.

“I like organizing things properly, one by one. I didn’t think you’d allow it.”

I started pulling books out from the top shelf.

It’s better to organize them neatly than leave them messy.

I planned to reorganize them alphabetically.

“As long as you don’t take out the books with green covers.”

“Oh, those?”

I was already holding one.

At that moment, I realized my mistake.

There was always a reason someone told you not to do something.

The moment I pulled out the thick green book—about the size of an encyclopedia—the surrounding books lost balance like falling dominoes.

I’m doomed.

Several books slid and began falling to the floor.

Crash!

The books on the top shelf were swept along, sliding down together.

“Madam.”

“Yes, Duke.”

Talking back was one of my specialties. Thinking that, I quickly raised my arms and covered my head—I didn’t want to get hit by falling books.

I absolutely didn’t want a concussion.

That would be the same as being banned from going outside for a while.

Huh?

But the moment I let go of the ladder, I lost my balance and fell.

My reflexes had always been terrible, and today was no exception.

I shut my eyes tightly, bracing for pain—

Why doesn’t it hurt?

It didn’t hurt at all.

When I cautiously opened my eyes, I was in Adrian’s arms.

…?

Some books had already fallen, but the ones still dropping toward my head were blocked by him as he reached out to shield me.

Why are you getting hurt in my place?

I couldn’t understand it.

Why help me when I’d done nothing but make him dislike me?

There was no benefit to it.

“I’m sorry. I’m clumsy. Everything I touch ends up broken.”

Home baking. The display cabinet. And now the bookshelf.

Since I could do basic first aid, I brought Adrian to my room and had him sit on the bed while I sat beside him, tending to his injuries until the physician arrived.

“It isn’t your fault.”

An unexpected response came as I wrapped a bandage around his hand.

“But you got hurt because of me. I think I should stop looking for new hobbies.”

I’d achieved my goal. I didn’t want to cause more damage.

New hobbies had never really meant much to me anyway.

“Give me your other hand.”

“I can do it myself, Madam.”

“I just want to do this because I feel bad.”

But our opinions didn’t align.

“Please. It’ll make me feel better.”

“Still, I should—”

We refused to back down over a single bandage, dodging and resisting each other until the situation became strange.

Adrian ended up beneath me.

Anyone could easily misunderstand the scene.

Thud!

A heavy sound echoed in the room.

“Hm?”

The door opened.

“Sister-in-law, it’s been a while.”

Floria?

Unfortunately, yes.

“It’s been a while, Brother.”

“Floria.”

At the worst possible moment, the worst possible witness arrived.