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Chapter 1
I Don’t Think This Is My Husband
It was ruined.
Completely ruined.
The family had fallen to ruin.
Father had finally done it.
This couldn’t be happening.
Even though Father did enjoy gambling a little too much, well… quite a lot.
Even though Stepmother did enjoy luxury a little too much, well… quite a lot.
They say a noble family lasts three generations even in ruin! But apparently that saying didn’t apply to Irina.
“My marriage arrangement?”
That was a few days ago.
“Yes. You’ve reached marriageable age now. And the Marquis is a very fine gentleman, so…”
Thanks to a father who was born into nobility but had neither ability nor sense, Irina found herself getting married right after her coming-of-age ceremony.
And it was a political marriage arranged to settle debts.
To a 60-something elderly noble whose face she’d never even seen.
They say that old noble is one of the wealthiest men in all of Arendor.
Rumor even had it that he wasn’t originally a citizen but had naturalized from another country with immense assets, and the kingdom had gladly accepted him.
Her father, driven mad by gambling, had apparently reached out to that very man.
Irina, strangely enough, had somewhat anticipated that something like this would happen to her.
Whenever she had that gut feeling, it always turned out to be right.
She experienced déjà vu so often that as a child, she’d wondered if she had some kind of ability.
So even when she heard that shocking announcement at breakfast, she wasn’t particularly surprised.
Ah, yes. So you’ve finally done it.
That was about the extent of it.
Occasionally, this “gut feeling” would come to her—but the problem was that it only ever came with bad news.
“So you’re selling off your daughter to clear your debts? How much? Are they covering everything?”
At that, her stepmother Scarlet gasped in exaggerated shock.
“Oh my! What kind of language is that to use with your father!”
Irina’s gaze flicked briefly toward Scarlet.
Her stepmother’s acting had improved tremendously.
“Dear, I’m fine. Irina, listen to your father. We have to save the family. It’s all for the sake of the household, and for you as well…”
“There’s no need to explain. Yes. I’ll get married.”
At those words, Count Cosart’s eyes widened in genuine surprise—an expression that didn’t suit him at all.
A few years ago.
Things had been fine up until Irina’s birth mother passed away from illness and Count Cosart raised Irina alone.
Even though Irina has now half-given up on everything, until a few years ago she had been bright and confident.
Her stepmother came into the picture when Irina was seventeen, and that was around the time Count Cosart began to change.
His only daughter became an afterthought.
He sold household items, sold off parts of the estate, and with the momentum of someone selling everything he owned, he eventually decided to sell his daughter too.
The only small mercy was that none of Irina’s personal belongings had been sold off yet.
Ah, well, it seemed they were about to be sold soon enough.
Irina added,
“On one condition: the moment we marry and the debts are cleared, you’ll sign a written pledge that you will no longer involve yourself in my life.”
“What? Are you saying you want to cut ties with your own father?”
“Father, you’re the one who’s been cutting ties with me. Right now.”
Count Cosart could only take a deep breath, unable to say a word.
“You can do at least that much, can’t you, Father?”
With that, she rose from her seat.
“You must be pleased, Stepmother. Thanks to me, we won’t have to sell the estate.”
As she flashed a smile and walked away, Scarlet—who had been wearing the most pitiful expression—had a brief twitch at the corner of her mouth.
For someone who had spent all of last night whispering into her father’s ear that they absolutely couldn’t give up their noble status and that sending Irina off was the solution, she was terrible at controlling her expression.
Not that Irina hadn’t spoken loudly on purpose for her to hear.
After that, Irina headed to her room and didn’t see her father’s face for several days.
Even today, after waking up, she sat for a long time doing nothing, staring blankly at the floor.
Her hair, the color of soft milk tea with a subtle brownish sheen, looked especially lifeless today.
Her eyes, which had once sparkled like amber, were dim. Her slender shoulders only added to the somber mood.
“Maybe this is for the best,” Irina muttered.
Perhaps marriage was better than watching her father—who still prioritized his own interests even while feeling sorry for her—and her stepmother, still steeped in luxury.
She couldn’t even remember when she’d stopped hating her father and started looking at him with cold indifference. They had already drifted so far apart.
This is the last time.
She owed them for giving birth to her and raising her, so she’d settle that debt with this and be done with it.
How much time had passed?
Irina set aside her thoughts and brushed back her tangled hair when she heard a knock at the door.
“Come in.”
A maid entered and bowed her head.
“Miss, your meal is ready.”
At that, Irina glanced toward the window—the morning sun was gone, and dusk had already fallen.
“When did it get so late? Alright.”
The dining table today was especially sparse. Even the greens in the salad looked wilted.
Much like Irina’s own situation.
Until the marriage was fully settled, they were penniless nobles, so she was grateful even for this much.
Irina was alone in the dining room.
It seemed the two had gone out somewhere again.
“I’m done eating.”
“Won’t you have a little more? You haven’t touched anything. Please, just one more bite, miss.”
“I’d rather not eat than get indigestion. Clear this away.”
Her nanny, Maria, looked worried.
“The Count is truly too much… You’re still so young and delicate.”
Even though she had come of age, in Maria’s eyes, Irina was still a young child.
When the news of Irina’s marriage broke, Maria was the only one who had raised her voice against it, insisting it absolutely couldn’t happen.
Even now, her eyes were slightly red-rimmed.
“I’ve reached marriageable age anyway.”
“Shall I bring some thin soup up to your room?”
Irina smiled faintly and shook her head.
“No. Thank you for your concern, Nanny.”
“It’s only natural, miss.”
“I’ll go up now.”
With her mouth feeling dry, Irina only drank some water and returned to her room—but even there, she couldn’t find rest.
“Miss!”
Lily came wailing beside her as soon as she returned to her room, crying with what sounded like half a lifetime’s worth of sorrow.
She’d said she would pack Irina’s clothes while Irina was at dinner, but now that Irina was back, she was sobbing pitifully.
They hadn’t been particularly close, but it seemed she had grown fond of her over the years they’d spent together.
“Boo-hoo, if miss leaves here, I have no reason to stay either.”
At those words, Irina—who had maintained an expressionless face throughout—felt a lump in her throat. Her eyes grew slightly moist.
So there was at least one more person in this household, besides the nanny, who cared about her.
“You’ll follow me? As expected, Lily, you’re—”
But Lily abruptly stopped crying.
“Me? Hic. Why?”
“…Never mind?”
Then why are your eyes so wide open?
“Hic. No. I’d better quit quickly and look for another job. I might not even have food to put in my mouth next month.”
Shaking her head vigorously as she finished speaking, Lily burst into tears again.
“…So that’s why you’re crying?”
“Hic, hic. Of course!”
Right, Lily. You were always that kind of girl.
Irina quickly became disgruntled.
Somehow.
It hadn’t looked like she was packing to follow her at all.
“…Fine. I’ll give you a gemstone set in the furniture here, so stop crying.”
“Waaah. How could I. Then give me the second biggest one after the smallest. Waaah.”
“…So you’re not going to refuse, are you. I’ll give you two, so please just stop crying.”
“Sniff. Y-yes, miss. Sniff!”
Irina made a bewildered face for a moment at that response, then shook her head and gestured.
“You worked hard packing. Go rest now.”
“Shall I warm up some goat’s milk? I heard from Maria that you barely ate earlier.”
What a mix of kindness and mischief.
Irina waved her hand.
“No. Go rest. I’ll just sleep.”
“Yes, miss. I’ll dim the lights for you.”
A little later, alone in her room again, Irina sat on the edge of the bed, staring blankly at her toes.
Lily had finished packing everything, so Irina didn’t need to lift a finger.
She was sometimes a frustrating girl, but at least her hands were capable.
When Irina actually tried to give her the gemstones she’d promised, Lily refused adamantly, saying she couldn’t possibly accept miss’s jewelry.
Irina had forced three into her hands anyway.
“Ah.”
A thought struck Irina, and she pulled out the jewelry box she’d hidden under the very bottom of her bed.
She sat on the bed and placed the box on her lap.
Inside were her late mother’s only keepsake and two necklaces.
From within, she took out two pendulum-shaped objects, each about half the size of her small fist.
One was a white stone dotted with black spots; the other looked like a moss-covered rock.
They were plain to look at, but thankfully the chains were intact and they still gleamed.
“I need to take these with me.”
They were gifts from her first love from childhood—a dear friend and servant—though that came with the sad history of having been thoroughly rejected.
Damn that grey-haired boy!
That insolent servant who’d turned down Irina’s confession had somehow procured these and given them to her, insisting she keep them close at all times.
But that was years ago now.
She’d been so pleased that they came from him that she couldn’t bear to throw them away, yet she’d also been resentful enough to disregard his words and store them in her jewelry box.
Sigh.
A sigh escaped her at the painful memory.
Irina flopped back onto the bed, loosely holding the chains and gently swinging the two pendulums.
They clinked against each other, making small sounds.
Reflecting in the soft lamplight Lily had left on, they actually looked rather pretty.
“Wait, did he give me both of these?”
It wasn’t even that long ago—just a few years—yet somehow her memory was fuzzy.
But even though the colors differed, the shapes were identical, so they must have been from him.
Irina sat up again and carefully placed the two pendulums into the bag she would be taking with her.
In a few days, she would leave this place.
Irina forced herself to sleep despite being wide awake, pulling the blanket all the way over her head.
Tonight, even the moonlight that usually streamed through her window was absent.
Like Irina’s heart, the sky was thick with dark clouds.
The black night passed drearily, like a sky swept clean with a broom—a gloomy, overcast night.
Irina pressed down her tangled emotions and closed her eyes.
Thud, thud, thud.
“Damn…”
Why did it have to rain now, of all times, when Irina hated it the most?
Curses—it poured that night.
Irina pulled the blanket tightly over her head.
