Chapter 11
The red-haired man whispered softly into Doana’s ear.
“Do you like me, or the count?”
Instead of answering, Doana passionately claimed his lips and smiled in satisfaction. As if she weren’t afraid of what would happen if Eric found out, she gave herself over completely to the instincts right in front of her. When the fierce moment ended, silence settled in. The man glanced at Doana, then gathered himself and stood up. He walked slowly toward the exit. Just before leaving, he winked at her and said,
“Come find me anytime you need me again.”
Bang.
When the man left, Doana was left alone.
Ugly bastard.
She frowned, staring at the spot where he had disappeared. The red-haired man was a low-ranking knight of the count’s household. Caught by Doana’s overheated radar, they had secretly met three times already. She’d intended for it to end after just once, but it had been too good—far too good. On nights when she couldn’t sleep, that ugly face even came to mind.
“Telling me to call him again—what nerve.”
As she had before, Doana sighed, thinking she really ought to stop meeting him. Blinking tiredly, unable to hide her exhaustion, she fell asleep as if she’d passed out. And two hours later—
Doana, who had dozed off briefly, checked the clock in the room and sprang to her feet.
“It’s already past ten…”
Eric would definitely be waiting for her. She quickly washed herself with warm water and hurried to get ready to leave. It was only about ten minutes away since it wasn’t far from the count’s estate, but her heart was unbearably restless.
“Move.”
A maid was standing guard in front of Eric’s room. Doana shoved her aside irritably, then cleared her throat.
“Ahem.”
Then, in complete contrast to before, she put on a sweet voice and called gently,
“My lord count. I’m here.”
“Come in.”
Entering the room, Doana first checked Eric’s mood. Judging by his expression, he didn’t seem pleased. The man who always pounced on her was sitting stiffly. Perched on the bed with his arms crossed, Eric flicked his finger—anyone could see he was in a foul mood.
“Why are you late? I’m sure I told you I hate it when people don’t keep appointments.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be late, but someone suddenly sent me on an errand.”
Finding a suitable excuse, Doana sat beside Eric and tried to charm him. But despite her coquettishness, Eric didn’t budge.
“Who would make you work? I clearly told the head maid not to give you any tasks.”
His cold eyes swept over her body. Startled, Doana’s gaze wavered.
“It was Rosé… no, the countess who ordered it.”
“Rosé?”
“Yes. If the countess orders me, I have to do it. I’m just a maid, after all—and she’s your wife.”
At her words, Eric’s expression softened a little. It wasn’t that she’d been late for no reason. He suddenly grabbed Doana by the wrist, his eyes openly filled with desire.
“Today, do exactly as I say.”
His expression was strangely different from usual. A flicker of unease washed over her, but Doana obediently leaned into his arms. That, however, was her mistake—
because this was the moment Eric’s abnormal tastes were revealed.
Time passed quickly, and before she knew it, only three days remained until the banquet. Rosé didn’t waste a single day of the week she had before the event she’d been invited to by the Grand Duke, determined not to make a mistake.
I’ve roughly figured out the nobles’ names and relationships, but not knowing their faces is a problem.
If only there were photographs—but in this world, there was no such thing as a camera. If she could match faces to names, the banquet would be a great success.
“…Which group should I befriend first?”
Rosé wrote down the name of Duchess Bella, who dominated high society, then shook her head and crossed it out.
“The Duchess Bella’s circle wouldn’t even look at me.”
She felt they wouldn’t welcome someone like her, practically an outcast in society. The age gap didn’t help either—they wouldn’t have much in common. Those middle-aged women had grown children, and Rosé was young enough to be their daughter.
And Tersia is in that group.
Tersia was Eric’s biological mother. With someone who disliked Rosé present, there was no way she could join Duchess Bella’s faction. Then… unmarried young ladies her own age? Rosé began writing down their names one by one, tapping her pen lightly.
“It might be worth a try.”
Would they be territorial? Rosé was the daughter of a fallen noble house who hadn’t even had a debutante ball—she didn’t have a single friend.
“I’ll just have to jump in and see.”
She set the pen down on the desk and slowly closed her eyes.
But what about that document…
The plan to execute Grand Duke Arteum. Rosé had asked the butler to let her back into the study, but Eric hadn’t allowed her in easily. As a result, she had to receive private lessons in the reception room instead of the study, and she lost even the chance to glimpse that document. The protagonists in possession novels always solved things so brilliantly…
“Haah…”
Reality was harsher than she’d expected. Just as Rosé sighed with her chin resting on her hand—
“You’re sighing like the ground’s about to cave in.”
“Oh—when did you get here?”
Eric had appeared. Leaning against her doorway, he looked at her, then silently thrust his hand out toward her. Startled by the sudden gesture, Rosé tilted her head.
Is he offering to escort me today?
They’d never even walked together before, let alone had him escort her. Staying wary despite his unusually gentle behavior, she cautiously placed her hand on his. Eric scowled fiercely and slapped her hand away.
“Not your hand. Give it to me.”
“…Give you what?”
Rosé stared at him warily, barely having time to calm her surprise.
“My present.”
“Present?”
“Yes. I know you prepared my birthday gift.”
Eric pointed at a lavishly wrapped box on her desk.
That…
Rosé stared fixedly at the gift she had prepared. He must have misunderstood—she hadn’t prepared any birthday present for him.
“Eric. I’m sorry, but I didn’t prepare a gift for you.”
“You didn’t prepare one?”
She usually bought luxury items until her back bent under the cost and offered them to him—yet this time, nothing? And there was clearly a gift box sitting right there. Eric found Rosé’s futile push-and-pull ridiculous.
“Then what’s that?”
He pointed at the wrapped box again.
“That’s a gift for Grand Duke Arteum.”
“…A gift for Grand Duke Arteum?”
Eric’s expression slowly hardened. Raising his eyebrows, he radiated a chilling aura.
“How amusing. You come empty-handed for your husband’s birthday without even a word of congratulations, yet you bring a gift for Grand Duke Arteum.”
“He invited me to his banquet.”
“You give a gift just because he invited you to a single banquet?”
Eric glared and strode toward her, grabbing her hand roughly. He squeezed so hard that her left wrist throbbed sharply.
“That hurts. Let go!”
“A gift for Grand Duke Arteum—there’s a limit to how much you can disgrace the name of House Wens.”
Eric shoved Rosé against the wall, pinning her there as he shot her an irritated look.
“Well, I suppose someone like you wouldn’t know anything about politics. That’s why you pull such pointless stunts.”
He mocked her with scornful words. The idea of her offering a gift to the Grand Duke clearly displeased him. At his ridicule, a surge of anger rose in Rosé.
No matter what, how can you say that to her?
No matter what anyone said, Rosé was Eric’s wife—and he knew full well that her heart was still directed toward him. She pitied the original Rosé, who had struggled so desperately to earn Eric’s love despite being treated this way. Boiling with anger, Rosé kicked Eric hard in the shin. Startled, he stumbled back and released her.
“You know what my position in society is like. Everyone treats me as if I’m invisible. The Grand Duke invited me anyway. Can’t I at least bring a small gift to show my gratitude?”
Clutching her left wrist, Rosé glared at him. Truly, he was a man with terrible hands. Every time she moved her fingers, her wrist ached. Eric stared at her in disbelief, as if he couldn’t believe she’d kicked him. Ignoring his gaze, Rosé picked up the gift box from the desk and left her room without looking back.
It would’ve been better if he’d said he wasn’t going.
The carriage heading to the Grand Duke’s estate was extremely quiet. They didn’t exchange a single word, nor did they meet each other’s eyes. She had hoped Eric would refuse to attend the banquet, but contrary to her expectations, he had boarded the carriage before her.
“……”
From time to time, Eric glanced at Rosé, but she paid him no attention. The carriage, filled with a cold atmosphere, slowly came to a stop. They had arrived at the Grand Duke’s estate. Eric opened the carriage door and stepped out first. Escorting a woman in a dress was proper etiquette, but no consideration could be found in him. Instead of escorting her, he wandered off on his own.
I didn’t expect anything anyway, you wretched count.
Muttering to herself that she wouldn’t take his hand even if he offered it, Rosé carefully stepped down. Perhaps because she’d dressed too elaborately in her excitement over attending her first banquet, she ended up stepping on her own hem.
“O-oh!”
In an instant, her body pitched forward. Tripping and falling the moment she arrived! Forget the pain—if she got covered in dirt, she might not even get to enjoy the banquet and would have to return home immediately.
I’m falling!
The carriage was fairly high. Her body dropped rapidly. Seeing the ground rushing closer, Rosé squeezed her eyes shut.
Grab—
At that moment, someone caught her falling body and lifted her up. Startled by the sudden sensation of floating, Rosé snapped her eyes open.
“H-huh?”
Relief at not having fallen lasted only a moment before she realized she was dangling over the shoulder of an unfamiliar man. The man carrying her carefully set her down. Lifting her head to thank him, Rosé widened her eyes at the sight of who stood before her.
“G-Grand Duke Arteum?”
“It’s been a while, Countess Wens.”
She had thought a guard knight or the coachman would have helped her… but standing before her was Grand Duke Arteum, looking at her with piercing blue eyes.
