IBVB 29

Chapter 29

“The princess missed it too? What a shame. She missed such a rare sight.”

Clinging tightly to Madam Benoit, Frisia whimpered.

“I hate homework. Studying is just too hard.”

She had handed in the homework expecting she wouldn’t finish it all, but had ended up staying up for several nights to complete it perfectly. Madam Benoit thought she was managing well on her own.

But Frisia’s unexpected whining made her clasp the girl’s faltering hand.

“It must have been really tough.”
“I just really missed Lily…”

That was the only reason she had pushed herself so hard.

Even now, just the mention of her younger sister made tears well up in Frisia’s eyes.

“Don’t blame me. The real culprit is over there.”
“Really?”
“Wait… you weren’t actually blaming me all this time, were you? That’s unfair.”

Frisia nodded multiple times and glared toward the Duke. The man responsible for everything said nothing and simply carried his wife straight to their bedroom.

“Prepare a bath.”
“Yes, Master.”

He ordered hot water to be filled with herbs good for hangovers and placed a hand on the dress wrapped around Frisia’s body.

If she fell asleep in her drunken state, she’d surely suffer a brutal hangover the next day.

“Take off your clothes.”
“I can’t take this off by myself.”

Once he untied the tightly fastened dress, only a white camisole and drawers were left.

He could have a maid change her into dry clothes later. When he tried to take her to the bath, Frisia struggled in his arms with her whole body.

“I don’t like the weird smell.”
“Is it really that bad?”

She clung to his neck and shook her head violently.

He didn’t dislike her clinginess, so, acting as if he had no choice, he brought her back and sat her down on the bed.

Today, she was unusually cute, unable to hide her true feelings.

So, suddenly, he became curious—what did she really think of him?

“Do you still despise me?”

Frisia tilted her head at the Duke’s question. After slightly parting her lips and hesitating, she nodded and held his hand tightly.

“Despise you? Who would dare say anything bad about our Duke?”

She looked around as if making sure no one dared to speak against him.

She kept repeating that she’d scold anyone who did, all while not letting go of his hand.

“You’re really drunk. You should go to sleep.”
“Duke, you must live kindly.”

Mumbling incomprehensible words, Frisia gazed up at the Duke standing awkwardly before her.

He wasn’t sure what she meant by “living kindly,” but one thing was certain—

From her half-lidded eyes alone, she clearly wasn’t in her right mind.

He needed to get her sobered up with herbs and let her sleep it off, but…

Frisia suddenly giggled and gently placed a hand on his cheek.

“Do you know how much I like you?”

Her drowsy eyes sparkled for a moment. Strands of honey-brown hair tickled his skin over the loose camisole.

“Perfect looks. Brilliant mind. Overwhelming strength. You’re the best.”

The endless compliments made the Duke’s cheeks blush.

Frisia then wrapped her arms around his tense neck and whispered in a trembling voice.

“I’ll always cheer for your love. So please… find your true love.”

With those last words, she slumped onto his shoulder and fell asleep.

Left holding her limp, softly breathing form, the Duke was speechless.

What should he do with this woman who still didn’t understand anything?

After much internal debate, he called the maids and handed her over.

“Soak her for about thirty minutes and make sure she sleeps. Don’t forget to dry her off completely.”
“Yes, Master.”

Thanks to witnessing the earlier scene, the maids were more respectful than ever as they carefully supported her.

After leaving the room, the Duke fell into a deep and endless contemplation.

“True love, huh…”

He had no idea who she was talking about.

Then, in the flickering fragments of memory, one vivid wish resurfaced:

“I really love that story. Our author is the best.”

The girl in the dream had smiled shyly before tragically dying without revealing her secret.

He couldn’t let such a tragedy happen again.

“Ugh.”

The moment he tried to recall more, searing pain flooded in.

A monstrous darkness crept up from his feet, ensnared his body, and spat curses into his ears:

[Why are you alive? Just die. You’re not worth living. Trash like you should have died with a broken arm.]

“Shut up!!!”

He slammed the wall with all his strength, and pain exploded in his left arm.

Only after hurting himself this way could he silence the voices.

Each time those hateful whispers came, he damaged his left arm, though he always tried to hide the scars beneath his clothes. Unless someone looked closely, they were hard to see now.

But he could never damage his right arm.

There was still something he needed to do with that hand.

“If I had to choose the best in my life, it would definitely be you, Alster!”

She had always told him he was the best—back then and even now.

No matter what anyone said about him, that one sentence was enough.

“I…”

He recalled her bright eyes when she held a new book to her chest.

Smiling bitterly, the Duke clutched his throbbing left arm.

When he returned to the office, Jade looked helplessly at his injured arm.

“You were doing well lately…”
“I’m fine. You may leave.”

Though these episodes had become frequent ever since Mustlang visited, he had remained calm after the wedding.

Jade, clearly worried, silently delivered painkillers and coffee before retreating.

In the quiet night, alone in the room, the Duke sat in front of a blank sheet of paper and silently picked up his pen.

Under the soft glow of the mana stone, black ink flowed into words.

As one page, then another stacked up, the lights in his study showed no sign of turning off through the night.

✽ ✽ ✽

He dreamt of running through a flower field full of tigers.

He didn’t know why, but he was aware it was utterly insane—just as his eyes popped open.

“You’re awake?”

The moment he saw Madam Benoit sitting by the bed, he realized—

Something had gone very wrong.

“You really don’t remember anything, do you?”
“I—I’m so sorry. I’ve committed a grave sin.”

The night of Lily’s coming-of-age ceremony, Frisia had been so moved that she drank far too much wine—and finally understood what it meant to black out.

Her usually distant sisters had shouted in unison:

“Never drink outside! Only drink in front of us!”

She must’ve made quite the scene.

After that, her sisters would argue over who got to sleep with her.

She hadn’t drunk on purpose. It was just that sneaking into the palace to find the magical mirror required building rapport with someone from the royal family.

The princess conveniently brought up the royal library, making everything fall into place.

“I thought it was okay to drink since people said clubs always end with drinks… and you told me to rest.”
“So my strict teaching methods were the problem.”
“No, no! Not at all!”

Faced with Madam Benoit’s tearful expression, Frisia panicked, her mind going blank.

Had she cursed her out while drunk? Grabbed her collar and shook her?

Frisia launched into desperate flattery mode.

“I really like you, Madam Benoit. You teach me kindly, just like a mother. I truly trust and rely on you.”
“Really?”
“Yes. It’s the truth.”

For once, Madam Benoit smiled sincerely and gently brushed Frisia’s messy hair.

“Is this what it feels like when your child comes home after causing trouble? I never understood those stories, but I think I do now.”

Despite her youthful appearance, her voice held traces of age and wisdom.

With great care, she began braiding Frisia’s hair neatly.

“I’m sorry…”
“You don’t owe me an apology. The real person who should be apologizing is the Duke.”

Once the hair was neatly braided, Madam Benoit’s scolding was done.

She tidied Frisia’s bangs and said softly:

“Though the Duke was wrong to be petty, you should try to understand. Seeing the wife he loves cry over her sister must’ve hurt.”
“W-Wait, I said that too?”

Apparently, not just Madam Benoit, but even the maids now knew why she had worked so hard on that mountain of homework.

It wasn’t a big mistake, but still—it was embarrassingly awkward.

“Well, I like seeing pretty girls gather too. If you let me join, maybe we can invite your sisters for a tea party.”
“Really?”

But the joy didn’t last—something she said earlier still nagged at Frisia.

So the homework overload was the Duke’s petty revenge after all.

“But you’ll need to get the Duke’s permission first.”

With a smile more beautiful than ever, the sharp-tongued mother-in-law gently patted Frisia’s head.