Chapter 8
Ulysian nearly let out a self-deprecating laugh, forgetting for a moment that this wasn’t even his own body.
To think I’d hear my brother’s confession with my own ears.
He had already known that Kildian had been repeatedly attempting to assassinate him.
But this was the first time he had heard it from Kildian’s own mouth.
The feeling was strange.
It wasn’t betrayal.
Kildian’s murderous intent had become far too familiar for Ulysian to feel something like that now.
A bitter taste filled his mouth.
He rubbed the roof of his mouth for no reason and lowered his head a little further.
Then he silently repeated the speech patterns and habits Amaryntis had described to him.
Recalling Shite’s manner of speaking, he answered:
“I… wasn’t able to… confirm whether he was alive or dead…”
As he spoke, he carefully watched Kildian’s expression.
Kildian showed no sign whatsoever of realizing that Ulysian was inside Shite’s body.
“You couldn’t confirm whether he was alive or dead? I specifically told you to be careful not to kill him outright. Yet there’s not a single thing you do properly.”
“…My apologies.”
The response came automatically, but his thoughts were racing.
Not kill me outright? So he wasn’t trying to kill me? Then why attack me?
Was he trying to take over my body and something went wrong?
Kildian’s sharp voice interrupted his thoughts.
“Who said I wanted an apology? Don’t forget everything I’ve done for you. I pulled you out of that hellhole of a house, made you a noble, even gave you a beautiful wife. Yet you’re still useless.”
Ulysian remained silent.
Kildian clicked his tongue in irritation.
“I’ll confirm Ulysian’s condition myself. You focus on your research for the time being.”
His gaze traveled up and down Shite’s body.
Noticing the bloodstains still visible on the shirt, Kildian curled one corner of his mouth into a vicious grin.
“Now that you’ve obtained the most important ingredient, there shouldn’t be any more delays in the research, right?”
Ulysian still had no idea what the “ingredient” was, or what research Kildian was talking about.
Nevertheless, he nodded.
If he claimed there were problems with the research, he would have to explain why.
Kildian rose from his seat, a thin smile twisting his lips.
“I expect results that satisfy me within one month.”
One month.
Not a long time at all.
Within that period, Ulysian had to identify the traitor, uncover Kildian’s objective, and return to his original body.
And if his original body was already dead—
Then he would stop Kildian’s plans even if it meant risking his life as a double agent.
But first, he needed to buy time.
If a month passed without results, Kildian would likely cut off his head.
As he searched for a solution, Kildian changed the subject.
“And lately, the amount you’ve been sending up has decreased.”
Sending up?
“You’ve been spending quite a lot on your research. As a result, less money is reaching the military fund, and I’m finding that extremely irritating.”
Kildian stepped forward threateningly.
“Get more money out of that woman.”
His lips curved.
“Hmm… ten times the current amount should do.”
Ulysian immediately thought of the prenuptial agreement.
Shite currently received one hundred million Vern per month.
Ten times that meant one billion Vern.
He’s insane.
The Rootschild family possessed an enormous fortune.
But casually handing over a billion Vern every month was another matter entirely.
“That amount is already specified in the marriage contract—”
The words escaped before he could adjust his tone.
Kildian cut him off impatiently.
“Do I look like I care about those details? Seduce her, threaten her, manipulate her—use whatever method you want and get the money.”
Grabbing Shite’s bangs roughly, Kildian yanked his head upward.
“Once you move that gloomy hair out of the way, your face isn’t actually bad. If possible, seduction would be the cleaner option.”
His voice dripped with mockery, as though he didn’t believe it would work.
He released Shite’s hair with a dismissive shove and pulled out a handkerchief.
Then he grimaced as though he had touched something filthy.
Carefully wiping each finger one by one, he continued.
“While you’re at it, push back those depressing bangs, fix that irritating way of speaking, and do something about that miserable expression. Every time you appear in public, do you ever stop to think about how I feel introducing you as one of my subordinates? Honestly, it’s embarrassing.”
For Ulysian, it was a welcome order.
He had been worrying about how long he would need to imitate Shite.
Now he could gradually change his behavior under the excuse of following Kildian’s instructions.
“I… will… try…”
Kildian tapped Shite’s cheek lightly with the handkerchief.
Tap.
Tap.
“I look forward to it.”
That concluded their business.
Turning sharply, Kildian tossed the handkerchief into the fireplace.
Thud.
After Kildian disappeared through the passage, the bookshelf slid shut with a heavy sound.
The footsteps gradually faded away.
Once silence returned to the room, Ulysian finally let out a long breath and swept his hair back.
A bright smile appeared on his face.
“All I need to do is cut off Amaryntis Rootschild.”
She was Kildian’s source of funding.
Without her money, the number of mercenaries Kildian could hire would naturally decrease.
Fewer mercenaries meant less harm inflicted upon others.
The research was also funded by Amaryntis’s money.
If he could secure a divorce within a month, he could simply claim that the project had failed due to lack of funding.
Even without knowing what the research involved, he could buy valuable time.
As someone trapped inside Shite’s body, there was only one thing Ulysian could do:
Pretend to obey Kildian’s order to seduce Amaryntis and extract more money—
while arranging a divorce as quickly as possible.
* * *
The next morning, she encountered Shite again at breakfast.
For him to leave his room this early was unusual.
She greeted him with a glance.
Taking a seat across from her, Shite returned the greeting with a smile.
He unfolded his napkin over his lap and picked up his utensils.
The sight was remarkably elegant.
No—it went beyond mere elegance.
His movements were so precise that his silverware never made a sound.
Even the direction in which he cut his food followed a deliberate sequence.
It was the kind of flawless dining etiquette one would expect in a royal court.
And this was Shite Hunniswald.
Of all people.
Elegance had never suited him.
During meals he normally hunched over himself.
Like a mouse hiding in the bushes while watching for predators, he constantly glanced around while devouring food.
Most memorable of all was the awful scraping noise his knife made against the plate.
This wasn’t the sort of transformation someone underwent merely because they hit their head.
Did he get struck by lightning or something?
She stared at him blankly.
After swallowing a bite of food and taking a sip of water, he cut into the fish course and addressed her.
“My lady, your maiden name was Rootschild.”
What an odd thing to bring up now.
“That’s right.”
“You purchased this estate yourself, and you personally cover the maintenance costs, management expenses, and even the servants’ wages.”
“That’s correct.”
“And yet you also provide your husband with one hundred million Vern every month as living expenses. Is there a particular reason?”
He’s talking about his own affairs like they belong to someone else.
Is he still keeping up this amnesia act?
Tilting her head, she tried to determine his intentions.
But she couldn’t read him at all.
“At first I planned to move into your residence, remember? But it turned out to be a shabby little mansion with only four rooms.”
She began counting on her fingers.
“No grand ballroom. No stables. Nothing.”
“How does that relate to your paying for this estate’s upkeep?”
“I told you I’d cover all the expenses if we moved somewhere I liked. And you agreed.”
“The servants’ salaries?”
“I’m the one who insisted on moving into a larger house, so naturally I should pay the people hired because of it.”
That was only the official explanation.
In reality, people usually sided with whoever paid them unless they were sworn retainers.
That was why she insisted on paying their wages herself.
Not that she had ever explained that reasoning to Shite.
And she certainly wasn’t about to explain it now.
Finally—
“As for the one hundred million Vern in living expenses…”
She tilted her head while tearing off a piece of breakfast bread.
“Even if you’re being frugal, don’t you spend about that much in a month anyway?”
Shite looked completely speechless.
Why is he reacting like that?
It’s not as if I said anything strange.
Still chewing her bread, she tilted her head again.
Shite carefully studied her face, as though trying to determine whether she was serious.
Then he laughed in disbelief.
“Do you know what Shite Hunniswald actually spends that money on?”
There he goes again, talking about himself in the third person.
What’s next? Is he trying to act cute?
