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Chapter 8
His True Feelings
“Really, Duke, you’re too much. How can you leave a bride alone on her first night?”
Rina, brushing Blair’s hair after her bath, spoke indignantly. Her tone sounded as if she herself had been wronged.
Even though the person in question, Blair, smiled faintly as she listened to the complaint, seemingly unbothered.
“I’m fine. Sleeping separately is actually more comfortable for me.”
After all, except for occasions requiring them to share a bed as nobles, they used separate rooms. It wasn’t much different from that.
But Rina’s anger didn’t subside.
“Still! It was not just any night—it was your first night together!”
“…Rina, you’re pressing the comb too hard; it hurts.”
“Ah! I’m sorry, I got carried away.”
Rina adjusted the force she was applying to the comb, which had been so strong it could have broken it, but her anger still lingered.
“Anyway! In this unfamiliar mansion, surrounded only by strangers, it’s wrong to treat a young bride who came to marry just one man like that. It’s like taking away her husband’s rightful dignity!”
“You’ve never been married yourself. How could you understand?”
“Books are the treasure troves of knowledge and nourishment for the heart.”
Blair smiled at the memory of Rina staying up all night, her face red, reading the books with red stickers on the pages.
“Well, the Duke’s appearance is honestly like a typical male lead… but his character—I’ll need to observe more before judging that.”
Listening to Rina chatter, Blair’s previously subdued mood lifted considerably.
As she was arranging herself before the mirror, she noticed something glimmering between her neck and collarbone.
‘…A magic circle?’
Blair quickly opened her collar to check, but all she saw were the red marks left by him last night.
Seeing them brought back memories from last night, and her face heated up.
She hurriedly closed her collar, realizing she must have imagined it.
Rina tilted her head, puzzled.
“Milady? Is your clothing uncomfortable?”
“Ah, no. It’s nothing.”
Blair shook her head, embarrassed, and suddenly noticed a thin bandage wrapped around Rina’s finger.
She hadn’t noticed it the previous night while Rina had been assisting her with her bath.
Blair asked,
“Did you hurt your hand?”
“Ah…”
Rina’s face momentarily showed a flash of embarrassment as she combed her hair.
“I’ll call a doctor. Let’s have it treated.”
Rina leaped up, stopping her.
“Oh, no! It’s fine. It’s just a small cut.”
“How did it happen?”
“Uh, well… ah, it happened this morning while I was working. As you know, I can be a bit clumsy.”
Even though Rina insisted she was fine, Blair’s worried gaze didn’t fade.
Just now, Rina had called Blair a bride who came to this unfamiliar place trusting only her husband, but it was the same for Rina.
She felt uneasy knowing someone who had left their familiar home and trusted only one person had been hurt.
Especially because memories of her past life resurfaced.
‘In my previous life, I was so caught up in my own situation that I hardly paid attention to Rina.’
Sensing Blair’s concern, Rina deliberately spoke lightly.
“It’s really nothing to worry about. I just wrapped the bandage so blood wouldn’t stain your hair, Milady—or rather, Your Highness.”
“…Really?”
“See? No blood has seeped outside the bandage, right?”
Indeed, it didn’t seem like a deep wound.
“You only need to worry about how to live well in this mansion and how to handle that slick-faced Duke.”
Rina’s playful words eased Blair’s mind a bit, but also raised a question.
‘If it’s a cut, that means a knife. Rina isn’t in charge of the kitchen, so she wouldn’t normally handle knives. Could it be she’s being bullied…?’
But Blair’s thoughts were cut short.
“Ta-da! All done. I’ll take you to the dining room.”
Having finished Blair’s hair, Rina helped her stand.
As they descended to the dining room, a servant opened the door.
It was customary for newlyweds to have lunch with the groom’s family on their first day.
In most noble families, the dining room would have been crowded with immediate family, but the vast dining room contained only Herdin.
He had no family.
With no siblings and having lost his parents early, Herdin had grown up alone. The person most akin to a parent for him was Empress Esmeralda.
Seeing the empty dining room, Blair began to understand why he hated her so much—not that it lessened her own feelings of resentment.
The butler pulled out Blair’s chair and filled her glass with an aperitif before leaving.
Left alone in the dining room, Herdin raised his glass and asked,
“Did you sleep well?”
It was a slightly humorous question coming from the person who had tormented her all night, but Blair answered obediently.
“Yes.”
After a brief greeting, the meal began.
Despite having had their wedding and first night just yesterday, the silence was unusually stark.
The first to break it was Herdin.
“After the meal, the butler will introduce the staff to you.”
He sliced his steak skillfully as he continued.
“Once the introductions are over, I will give you a tour of the mansion. After that, you may rest; there will be no further schedule.”
“Thank you.”
“If you have any questions or anything to discuss, feel free to speak.”
“How will you investigate the fire from ten years ago?”
The knife in his hand paused mid-cut.
His usually cold blue eyes turned toward Blair.
Although it was a contract marriage for practical reasons, she hadn’t expected him to bring it up today—right after their wedding and first night, when both body and mind were exhausted.
“Since you say you have no memory of it, I am currently seeking a hypnotist.”
The word ‘hypnotist’ made Blair flinch—memories of the past resurfaced.
“We’ve attempted hypnosis before, but it was ineffective.”
“Well, perhaps this time it will be different.”
Herdin spoke calmly, but his words carried weight. He suspected Blair hadn’t actually lost her memories but was pretending.
“…You doubt me.”
“How could I trust you?”
His tone implied that asking the question was obvious.
Even if he wanted to hide his true feelings, he didn’t seem inclined to.
“You alone know whether you truly lost your memory or are pretending for some other reason.”
As the daughter of a politically hostile royal family, he had every reason not to trust her.
Blair had fully understood that in her previous life.
But facing his raw hostility directly was different from merely thinking about it.
“Accepting the contract doesn’t mean I trust you.”
He was right.
This was a contract.
A marriage not based on love or trust, but on practicality—a mutually beneficial arrangement. She had suggested it herself, after all.
Still, since it was a contract, she had to comply with his demands.
Blair nodded calmly.
“…Understood. Then we will begin with hypnosis, as you said.”
Thus ended the first meal of the newlywed couple on their first day.
After meeting the staff, the butler Mason led Blair on a mansion tour.
Having served the Delmarc dukes for generations, Mason was deeply loyal, proud, and more knowledgeable about the house’s history than Herdin himself.
The tour continued until after dinner.
Blair, having lived in the mansion in her previous life, already knew much of the information, but she listened attentively to Mason’s stories. Seeing it all again after returning from death gave her a new perspective.
As they neared Blair’s bedroom, Mason suddenly apologized.
“You must be tired after yesterday’s wedding, and I was impatient to show you everything quickly. I hope I wasn’t too hasty.”
“It’s natural for the lady of the house to know these things. Thanks to you, I was able to grasp the mansion thoroughly.”
Like most Delmarc staff, Mason wasn’t particularly friendly toward Blair, but he never showed personal feelings.
Blair didn’t want to make him uncomfortable; after all, the tour had been enjoyable.
They arrived at Blair’s bedroom.
“If you have further questions, please feel free to ask anytime.”
“I want to see the staff roster and household inventory records.”
Mason was surprised.
Matters like staff salaries and inventory were typically the responsibility of the lady of the house—but most noblewomen delegated such work. Managing numbers was tedious and taxing.
But Blair wanted to do it herself.
“You mean you wish to handle it personally?”
“Now that I’m a member of the Delmarc family, it’s my duty.”
In her previous life, Blair had delegated household management to Mason, like other noblewomen.
Partly because it was difficult, but mainly because the Delmarc family didn’t approve of her meddling.
Now, she no longer cared what others thought. Even if she was only the Duke’s wife for a year, she wanted to fulfill her responsibilities—not for recognition, but to no longer feel inadequate to herself.
