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Chapter : 18
Even in the official setting, though the Duke was technically married, his wife’s presence was practically like air.
In contrast, every episode with the protagonist, even if it stemmed from a hate-filled relationship, could practically be called a melodrama.
The moment the protagonist realized the person constantly setting traps and trying to kill him was none other than his own patron, the Duke of Cromford, he fell into deep despair.
Especially when, despite trying to kill each other relentlessly, there were occasional glimpses of the times when their relationship was good, the message boards would practically explode.
Even though the Duke seemed to hate and want to kill the protagonist desperately, whenever another enemy attacked the protagonist, the Duke would eliminate them as if he refused to let his prey go, solidifying his position as the main villain.
The intense chemistry that bloomed within that dynamic had once been the only light and salt in my exhausting corporate life.
…Come to think of it, why did the Duke hate and torment the protagonist so fiercely, as if obsessed with killing him?
Was it because I’d glossed over the wife-related plot points I didn’t care to know, only catching that it had something to do with revenge? Maybe I didn’t remember clearly because it was a plot point I wasn’t interested in.
“If not you, then who do you think the Duke will fall in love with?”
“Well, obviously, it’s the pro—!”
…tagonist.
The reflexive answer slipped out, and I snapped back to my senses.
A distinctly male voice.
And the hands massaging me felt strangely strong for a maid’s hands.
I hurriedly opened my eyes, and the sight before me made my blood run cold.
My dress lay discarded far away like a shed skin, and the Duke, wearing a serious expression, was massaging my legs just as I had instructed.
“W-why are you here!”
“That’s what we tried to tell you…”
The maids’ pitiful excuses echoed in the air, empty.
“You may leave now.”
At the Duke’s sharp gaze, the maids flustered and scurried out of the room.
Still in his uniform from the reception, the Duke glared at me with a very displeased expression.
“Uh, Duke?”
“…”
“Um… Could you pass me my clothes?”
The Duke was sitting on the sheet, and I couldn’t stay exposed like this. I wanted to cover myself with my discarded dress, but the Duke kept staring at me seriously, not even looking away.
“Do I look like a fool to you?”
“No, of course not! I would never think something so ridiculous!”
I immediately dropped to my knees and bowed, signaling my surrender.
“What exactly are you trying to say?”
This was a political marriage, and the Duke didn’t even want children, so there was no reason for us to consummate the marriage.
“W-what I mean is… I don’t think there’s any need to force ourselves to spend the wedding night together. You know, like in those historical dramas.”
If someone demanded proof, I could prick my finger and drop a few drops of blood, and it would be fine.
Having learned about romance only from novels, I, Frisia, smiled innocently while the Duke, wearing a serious expression, questioned me.
“No matter the circumstances, we are officially husband and wife now. Why would I have to avoid it?”
Unable to think of a good excuse, I rolled my eyes and stared off into the distance.
I had to find a reasonable, logical excuse somehow.
Fortunately, I could usually read his thoughts just by looking at his face.
“I’m still scared.”
“Scared?”
“Don’t just scold me. Look in the mirror first. You’re frowning like this, and your eyes are all sharp like this.”
I even mimicked his expression, and the Duke seriously turned to look in the mirror.
Taking that chance, I grabbed the dress and covered myself, then looked blankly at the mirror on the other side of the room.
My brown hair was already a mess.
Once the makeup, which the maids had painstakingly applied like a piece of art, was removed, I looked no different from how I did before I died in my previous life.
“You’re not looking much better yourself.”
“I’m not saying I refuse entirely. I just need… let’s say, a year! If you give me a year, I think I’ll be ready.”
That was around the time the protagonist would first appear.
While still in the position of Duchess, I could bring the protagonist to him, and my presence as his wife would naturally fade as their main story progressed.
As I nodded repeatedly to myself, the Duke still looked displeased, but he removed his jacket and draped it over my shoulders.
“You said you liked me, but that must’ve been a lie.”
“I do like you. I like you so much.”
It was just… the direction of that affection was slightly twisted.
While I kept nodding eagerly, the Duke finally sighed and stood up quietly.
“Husbands and wives share a bedroom. I won’t compromise on that.”
“Of course. As long as we’re just holding hands while sleeping, it’s no problem.”
I confidently promised that I would never make the first move, and the Duke finally seemed to accept the situation.
Placing his large hand on my forehead where the ice had been, he stared at me silently with a strangely regretful expression.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Is it a crime to look at my own wife?”
Suddenly, his face came close, and his lips briefly touched mine before pulling away.
It was such a soft, light kiss that it felt too lacking to even call it a kiss.
Then, the Duke abruptly flicked my forehead.
“What was that for?!”
“I don’t like it.”
For some reason, with a face full of irritation, he stood up and left the room.
“You can’t go running off to other women now, okay?!”
He was a married man now. It would be a problem if he cheated.
“You’re unbelievable.”
Leaving behind those cold words, the Duke stepped out, and the maids rushed in to prepare for the wedding night.
After soaking in warm water and changing into soft, dry sleepwear, I lay under the blankets, finally at ease.
“He’s a ruthless man, but at least he doesn’t go back on his word.”
Seeing the way he looked at me like I was unbelievable, I was certain the Duke would never make the first move.
The one who couldn’t be trusted was actually me.
If I saw him right after he came out of the bath, with water droplets dripping from his hair in that devastatingly seductive state, who knew when my mind might change?
“Ugh. This feels so weird.”
I had always been certain that my favorite character ending up with the second lead was best, but now that things had come to this, I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
No matter what, this wasn’t right. Pushing down the chaotic thoughts threatening to explode, I pulled the blanket over myself and forced myself to sleep.
✦✦✦
The morning after the wedding, Rashita stayed behind at the mansion, happily helping prepare the couple’s first breakfast.
“Did the two of them settle in well last night?”
“Madam seemed a bit tired, but they both retired to the bedroom in a proper manner.”
“Hmm, I see.”
Nodding in satisfaction at the head maid’s report, Rashita checked the date on the calendar hanging on the wall.
“They’re both still young. We’ll probably hear a baby’s cries around this time next year.”
“Indeed. The priest who examined Lady Frisia said they would build a very happy family.”
Even though he had been injured by an arrow, the Duke’s rare, robust constitution meant he was recovering quickly, and the priest had praised him.
“I’m jealous. I wanted to have my husband’s child, too.”
“Lady Rashita…”
“Why did he have to die so soon, my husband?”
Though he was ten years younger than her, unlike the tall and robust Rashita, Vino was a frail, sickly man who looked like he would break with a touch, which was precisely why she had vowed to protect him with her own hands for life.
But caught in the succession struggles of his nephews, her husband died young, not even reaching forty.
“He used to always say that Wilfred was the one most suited to lead Cromford.”
To fulfill her late husband’s wish, Rashita had willingly picked up an axe.
She eliminated all those responsible for driving her husband to his death, helping her nephew ascend as the family head, but then the nobles, seeing that Wilfred was unmarried, tried to strip him of his title.
“I worried about who he would marry, but our new little one is so adorable, isn’t she?”
Even nodding off during the wedding vows, she looked just like a sparrow, and to Rashita, no matter what Frisia did, she was simply endearing.
“A raw gem perfectly describes her. I’m excited to see how she will blossom.”
Enjoying a pleasant chat with the head maid, who said Frisia’s face was so fun to style, Rashita basked in the warm morning sun.
“It’s a good thing he hasn’t heard the news yet. Otherwise, he would have flipped the entire wedding hall.”
“Now that you mention it, Sir Fildram is still away.”
“Right. It’s about time he returned.”
“WHAT IS THIS NONSENSE!!!”
Perhaps unable to keep still himself, a loud bang erupted at the mansion’s entrance that morning.
Pulling an axe out from under her skirt, Rashita faced the Duke’s head guard, Fildram, whose eyes were bloodshot with rage.
“It’s been a while, Fildram. Did you catch that dragon you went after?”
“And what are you doing here so early in the morning, Aunt Rashita?”
A sharp blue sword swung at her, but it was blocked with a screech against the blade of her axe.
A wild madness flickered in Fildram’s eyes as he charged at her.
“What rumors did you hear to come running like this?”
“I heard everything! That a vile seductress used her wiles to bewitch Wilfred and demanded to take the Duchess’ position!”
“What?”
Rashita laughed like a madwoman while Fildram, unable to hide his confusion, glared around, searching for the truth behind the rumors he had heard about Frisia, who had merely been blinking like a startled squirrel.
