Chapter 1
“Now that we’re married, there’s something I should tell you…”
“Yes.”
I swallowed hard.
What kind of secret could my husband possibly need to reveal on our wedding night?
My contract husband, Carsel, was a man who perfectly met every condition I needed in the current situation.
“A background capable of protecting Linea, and he also needs a wife to show his mother.”
Our contract marriage had proceeded as smoothly as flowing water.
But there hadn’t been any hidden Bluebeard-style secrets tucked into the contract terms.
As the bride on our wedding night, I waited nervously for his words.
“…I may have omitted one of my titles.”
“Omitted? So you’re not the Marquis of Rivandel?”
That couldn’t be. I had personally commissioned the information guild to verify it.
I stammered at him.
“B-But to bring Linea with me, I need at least a marquisate or higher—if that’s the case, then this contract marriage is mean—!”
“Don’t worry about that.”
“How can I not worry?”
The core condition I had set for this contract marriage was that his rank had to be higher than a county.
That was the only way I could legally secure custody and parental rights over my adopted daughter, Linea.
In the empire, there were only two people with a dukedom: Grand Duke Deschlier, the emperor’s younger brother, and Duke Rakan.
But Duke Rakan was unmarried, so I hadn’t even considered him from the start.
That left only a marquis.
And there were only three nobles with a marquisate—of which the only unmarried one was the Marquis of Rivandel!
‘What do I do?’
I’d gone through all the trouble of bringing Linea here.
Just thinking about how it would shatter the heart of a child who was finally starting to open up to people made my chest ache.
Perhaps it was because of my worried, drooping brows. Carsel began to soothe me.
“…Asha, there’s absolutely no need to worry. I have never lied to you, not even for a single moment.”
“Then what exactly is your title?”
“I am.”
Carsel curled his lips into a smile.
He leaned in, drawing closer, and whispered.
“Duke Rakan.”
“……”
For a moment, I thought my ears had malfunctioned, and I just blinked for a long while.
“When you say Duke Rakan…”
As in, that Duke Rakan?
The brutal butcher who left funeral marches and blood in his wake wherever he went.
The obsessive, scheming sub-male lead who pines after the heroine.
And… the final mastermind of this novel.
‘Carsel Rakan’—commonly known as Duke Rakan.
“Wh—WHAT?!”
That can’t be right.
The names were similar, but their personalities were completely different!
Every memory I had of Carsel Rivandel that flashed through my mind was nothing but polite and kind!
“Th-That’s impossible.”
“Why is that impossible?”
Why? Because—you’re!
“You’re supposed to be Linea’s obsessive scheming sub-male lead! W-We were practically destined to become mother-in-law and son-in-law!”
Well, in the original story, there was no romance aside from his obsession—probably because of the age gap—but still!
This was a family tree so tangled it was beyond ridiculous!
“What are you talking about now?”
At the words “mother-in-law and son-in-law,” he furrowed his brows and asked in bewilderment.
I had no time to answer, so I frantically shook my head.
“We can’t do this! This is a complete train wreck!”
“What do you mean we can’t, Asha.”
Carsel’s lips curved into a sweet, graceful arc.
“We started this precisely for this outcome—so of course we can.”
Why was it that—
All the nonsense I’d babbled to him before kept echoing in my ears?
—It’s a good thing you only share the same name as Duke Rakan! Ugh, if you were that terrifying man, I’d have died of a heart attack already.
—As long as you’re not a scary man like Duke Rakan, it’s fine.
—Thank goodness you’re not Duke Rakan…
I vaguely recalled thoughtlessly spouting all sorts of things about how he absolutely must not be Duke Rakan.
“Don’t say we can’t do this now, Asha. Didn’t you say you needed me, that it had to be me, while nestled in my arms?”
“That was before I knew you were Duke Rakan! You liar! No—cancel that last part!”
Even as I called him a liar, I suddenly felt self-conscious and shook my head, trying to take my words back.
Regardless, Carsel, who had already achieved his goal, only smiled lazily, his eyes crinkling deeper.
“We are already husband and wife. You even signed before the priest, Asha, vowing before God to spend the rest of your life with me until death parts us.”
“That’s…”
My words caught in my throat.
I was so dumbfounded I couldn’t even process the situation, yet I still shook my head and said,
“That was just a formality—”
“Liar. So the real con artist was right here.”
“Excuse me?!”
Carsel smiled at me leisurely and continued smoothly.
“You never asked me if I was Duke Rakan, so I simply never answered. Yet you, Asha, are calling the words you spoke with your own lips a lie.”
“Concealing the truth with willful negligence is still fraud!”
This was why you should read all the terms before agreeing to a contract!
“Asha, we are now a couple recognized by God himself. You will never escape me.”
He reached out, took my hand, and lifted it with courtly grace.
Then, as if to make a point, he pressed a light kiss to my knuckles.
Carsel gazed at me slowly with eyes the color of pomegranate seeds. Held captive by that fierce, pressing gaze, I could only stare back at him blankly.
But one thing was clear.
‘I’m screwed!’
And all of this had started not too long ago.
“Lend me some money.”
“…Excuse me?”
The Master’s eyes went wide at my abrupt, straight-to-the-point request.
Yes. An ordinary countess would never walk into an information guild and boldly ask for a loan.
‘But I’m not Countess Delmore—I’m a possession victim!’
Possession—a term that was already tiresome to explain.
Who would have thought that reading a few romance fantasy novels on the subway during my commute would land me in one of those so-called “possession and return” scenarios?
‘If it was going to happen anyway, at least let me win the lottery!’
But regardless, I had been possessed into a romance fantasy novel, and of all roles, I became the villainess of the original story.
<I Became the Secret Friend Obsessed Over by the Crown Prince> — Asha Delmore, former Countess Delmore.
Because my husband had died of a heart attack in his mistress’s house just one month after our marriage.
And originally, my role was that of the wicked stepmother who tormented “Linea Delmore,” my husband’s daughter.
Linea was the quintessential Cinderella heroine—abused by her stepmother and family, she catches the attention of both the Crown Prince and a Duke, and eventually marries the Crown Prince.
The problem here was that I, the stepmother who relentlessly abused Linea, would end up brutally murdered by the obsessive scheming Duke, who was a sub-male lead.
The saving grace was that I hadn’t actually mistreated Linea yet.
‘Meaning—I still have a chance to start fresh with her!’
Considering the abuse Linea would otherwise endure for over a decade, wouldn’t it be better to get close to her quickly and leave the county together?
Technically, I could have left on my own.
But the reason I insisted on taking Linea with me was probably because of my own past.
A love-starved child with no one to protect her.
It wasn’t that I was trying to clumsily take responsibility for a child no one loved.
The problem, however, was…
‘The fact that I’m broke as hell!’
To take Linea—my deceased husband’s child and not my biological daughter—I needed a substantial amount of money.
Fortunately, Linea had kept her kind nature, but if left here, she would grow up into a pitiful heroine burdened by a past of abuse.
So I planned to escape this household with Linea as soon as possible.
And for that, money was the top priority.
But no bank would extend credit to a former countess with nothing to her name.
The information guild master wasn’t much different. He soon shot back at me.
“You do realize this isn’t a bank, right?”
“Of course. I also know this is a place where information is bought and sold. And wasn’t our last deal quite profitable for both sides?”
“That’s true, but…”
I smiled brightly and continued.
“I’m sure the Ferrell Trading Company made a pretty penny off the information I gave them—far more than what you paid me for it, I’d wager.”
I brazenly kept pressing my proposal to the Master.
He watched me with an intrigued gaze from behind his mask, lost in thought, and I asked him,
“Let’s be honest—you have plenty of money, Master. Just lend me 2,000 gold. You already know I only bring in premium intelligence.”
I knew how crazy I must have looked.
‘In Korean terms, that’s like asking to borrow 200 million won out of the blue.’
I didn’t even have 200 gold right now, but I was confident I could pay it back double within a year—interest-free over fifty years, no, in just one year!
And besides, knowing future information and not using it would just be painful!
“I’ll pay you back double exactly one year from now.”
“And if you lose that 2,000 gold?”
“Then slit my belly.”
The Master looked at me as if I were insane, boldly declaring that.
But sometimes, to achieve your goals, you had to have a bit of nerve.
‘Linea, Mom’s going to make a lot of money for you!’
Suddenly, the day I first met Linea came to mind.
