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Chapter 02
The woman who had been shoved aside tumbled awkwardly across the floor.
“Ah! Wh–what was that?!”
She glared at the person who had knocked her down as if she were about to tear them apart, then froze in shock.
“Lady Florence? How are you here?”
When we had briefly met before the wedding just to show our faces, this governess had attended in place of Edmund’s nanny.
Of course, she knew what I looked like.
And yet she had called me Lady Florence.
On top of that, she looked utterly unable to understand my behavior, as if thinking, Why are you here of all places?
Come to think of it, the maid who had shown me the study earlier had reacted similarly.
Almost the exact same question slipped out of my mouth.
“Did I come somewhere I’m not supposed to?”
“Th-that’s not it… it’s just that your current state, my lady…”
Apparently my appearance—having neither dressed properly nor even washed my face—looked strange to her.
I ignored it.
So what?
I threw out words that didn’t suit the age of this body at all.
“What’s the problem with a wife coming to where her husband is?”
So what if I did? It was the truth.
Even if I was only thirteen or fourteen, I was still a married woman.
No matter that the current duke had forced the marriage, and no formal wedding ceremony had been held.
Officially, I was Edmund’s wife.
The wife of the Cohen Grand Duke’s heir. No one can deny that.
No matter what state I was in, I’d come to see my husband—what were they going to do about it?
“……”
What was this governess’s name again?
Ah, right. Moretti.
According to the information I’d gathered over the past three days, she was the real power in this villa and a close aide of the duke.
In short, she was my enemy!
“And what’s with that form of address? ‘Lady Florence,’ you say. Do you not know who I am?”
“Ah!”
She seemed to realize her mistake too late.
Right now, I was Cassia Cohen—
the wife of the Cohen heir.
But when I asserted my official status, Moretti wasn’t the only one who was flustered.
The boy I’d been holding in my arms—Edmund, the young duke—shuddered as if creeped out.
“Ah!”
Only then did I realize that I’d still been holding Edmund tightly right in front of Moretti.
When I released his thin body, Edmund looked at me with a very subtle expression, then slowly stepped back a couple of paces.
His face clearly said:
What on earth is this woman plotting?
Suspicion plastered all over his expression.
And that was understandable.
To him, I’m an untrustworthy wife forcibly attached to him by the uncle who wants him dead.
Edmund hated this marriage.
And in the original story, Cassia had indeed been a vicious villain who tormented him relentlessly—so his suspicion was perfectly justified.
But I didn’t get the chance to focus on Edmund.
Moretti, who had been sprawled on the floor in shock, finally came to her senses.
“What do you think you’re doing, young madam?! How can you commit such violence?! Laying hands on me—Moretti!”
She did call me “young madam,” but her tone was anything but that of a servant.
It was dripping with arrogance and contempt.
I replied calmly.
“I merely punished a servant’s rudeness.”
“…What?”
“You called me Lady Florence, didn’t you? That means you refuse to acknowledge me as the duke’s wife. So I issued a punishment befitting that offense. Is there a problem?”
I smiled as insolently as possible and sneered at Moretti.
You’re just a nameless extra villain in the original story anyway! Even if we’re both villains, the difference in importance is worlds apart!
This body, at least, belonged to a villain with an actual name!
…But thinking of the miserable future that would come with that role nearly drained my strength.
I pulled myself together, because Moretti was still struggling.
“I am the tutor personally appointed by the duke to educate the young master! Interfering with my instruction is the same as disrespecting the duke himself!”
“Oh? So you’re saying that laying hands on the ‘young duke’ was justified corporal punishment? Something the duke permitted?”
“Th-that’s… right?”
When I pointed out the facts, Moretti flinched.
But since it was true—and since her own words and actions backed it up—she couldn’t deny it.
“As you know, I am the wife of the Cohen heir, chosen and married by the duke himself.”
Grabbing Edmund’s hand—still swollen and bleeding—I grinned and asked Moretti,
“If a mere servant’s corporal punishment can leave the young duke in this state and still be considered justified, then isn’t what I did to you for being rude to the duke’s wife an extremely light punishment?”
“Th-that’s…!”
If a household tradition is so strict that a servant can injure the young master’s hand like this and call it discipline,
then surely when a servant is rude to the master, they should receive several times harsher punishment, right?
That was the logic of my question.
Since it wasn’t logically flawed, Moretti couldn’t argue back.
Smiling brightly, I issued an order.
“Oh, I see—you’re surprised because I was too lenient? Don’t worry.”
Moretti tried to protest, but I was faster.
“Confine yourself for one day. This is an order from the wife of the Cohen heir.”
“M-my lady!!!”
Moretti screamed, but I shook my head.
Nope. I’m not changing my mind. Go back.
Realizing too late that she’d been completely trapped by my logic, Moretti ground her teeth.
But my order was firm, and I’d emphasized that this was a master giving orders to a servant—so there was nothing she could do.
Like the small-time villain she was, Moretti left the study after spitting a curse.
“If the duke hears of this, he will not let it stand.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll explain everything properly myself.”
In response to Moretti’s implied curse—If the duke finds out, you’re finished—
I was essentially saying, You’re not the only one who can communicate with the duke.
After that, Moretti could no longer resist.
“……”
“……”
Once Moretti left the study, only Edmund and I remained, and an awkward silence settled between us.
Despite all my talk of being the “duke’s wife,”
this was actually the first time Edmund and I had seen each other since the paperwork marriage three days ago.
Because I’d possessed this body on the wedding night.
So the Cassia Edmund knew was just a girl dragged in with a dead expression to sign marriage documents—
a bride brought in by the uncle who wanted Edmund dead, from a vassal family loyal to him.
Of course he couldn’t help but be suspicious.
So it was only natural that the first thing Edmund asked me directly was this:
“What are you plotting?”
It matched almost exactly what I’d guessed from his expression earlier.
I shrugged.
“Exactly what you saw. I just taught a servant her place.”
If I openly said I’d taken his side, he clearly wouldn’t believe me.
It would only deepen his suspicion.
So I chose a reason he might at least accept.
“So you wanted to be treated like a superior now that you outrank Moretti?”
“Isn’t that natural?”
Edmund let out a scoffing sound, like he couldn’t believe it.
Meanwhile, I stepped closer to him and took his hand—
the back of it, still bleeding from the switch.
To do this to the hand of a thirteen-year-old…
Before I realized it, the question slipped out.
“Does it hurt a lot?”
“…?!”
The kid froze like a pillar of salt.
When I clicked my tongue and tried to wipe the wound with a clean handkerchief, he recoiled in shock and pulled his hand away.
“What are you doing?!”
He shouted as he backed away, his face flushed red.
“Treating it, obviously.”
When I took another step forward, Edmund retreated again, his face burning crimson.
Guess he’s really upset.
Well, that was only natural.
A wife who hadn’t shown up since the wedding day suddenly trying to get close—it made sense he’d be on guard.
So that’s it. Right now, he’s like a stray cat that’s been hurt by people.
That’s why he’s hissing internally, claws fully extended.
I was never very popular with cats in my previous life, either.
They always stole my snacks, and I never once got to pet them.
I almost felt a little dejected.
Then Edmund added in a dazed voice, full of confusion and suspicion,
“And you always dressed so extravagantly—why did you come running here in such a state today? Like you were rushing to save someone.”
“You catch on fast. Of course I came to save my husband.”
At my blunt answer, Edmund’s face twisted sharply.
“You really lie without even blinking.”
“It’s not a lie.”
“That’s exactly what lying is.”
His face was full of nothing but doubt.
Well, what could I do?
You can’t cross a thousand miles in a single step.
I raised both hands and stepped back, showing through my actions that I had no intention of threatening him.
Instead, I placed the handkerchief on the table in the study.
“Fine. I’ll leave it here. Wrap your wound properly. Be careful. I’ll go.”
Then I left the study and closed the door.
Through the narrowing gap, I saw Edmund’s red eyes widen like a startled rabbit.
Seeing him like that, he actually looked quite cute for his age.
Just as I escaped from Edmund’s study,
I was grabbed by someone unexpected—or rather, someone entirely expected.
My wrist was seized, and I was roughly dragged into a corner of the corridor.
“Eek!”
The moment I saw Moretti’s vicious eyes, I wondered if I should scream to call Edmund or another servant.
But when I heard her low, threatening voice, I decided it would be better to stay quiet.
“You little brat—how dare you do that to an adult! Do you really think you’re some great duke’s wife?!”
Moretti snarled—no, she threatened me.
“You, who only gets called the duke’s wife thanks to the duke—what do you think will happen if I tell him what you did today? Hm? Aren’t you curious?”
She was threatening to report me to the duke for taking Edmund’s side.
After being confined, she must have felt humiliated at being bested by a child.
Only then did I feel just how young this body was.
Moretti was a head taller than me, and with my arm grabbed like this, I couldn’t move at all.
She clearly thought she could crush me with brute force and intimidation.
But if you think I’m just an ordinary kid, you’re sorely mistaken!
My wrist hurt, but I couldn’t suppress the smile creeping onto my lips.
I turned my head, stared straight at Moretti, and spoke as calmly as possible.
“Go ahead. Try it—if you want to die.”
“What?!”
Moretti flinched.
Did she really not expect a threat like that?
I smiled brightly and threatened her right back.
“Who do you think the duke would trust more—me, or a mere governess like you?”
Moretti’s face drained completely white.
