His tone was indifferent and casual, as though receiving a routine report. Yet one had to remember that he rarely ever asked such things in the first place. When Kiers turned his head, the Count hesitated briefly before bowing low.
“…She has arrived upstairs.”
“Hmm.”
His red lips curved slightly. The Count, still keeping his head lowered, seemed to hesitate for a moment before deciding to offer his own impression.
“If it is any consolation, she appears far more adaptable than expected.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes. I had my concerns, but while time will tell, she does not seem to take after her father, the Viscount, in the slightest. She came all the way here completely alone, yet she appeared remarkably spirited.”
“…Alone?”
At last, Kiers turned his crimson gaze fully toward him. The Count was startled to find an unmistakably intrigued gleam replacing the apathy that had lingered there until a moment ago.
“Yes. Just as Sir Jerome reported, she came unescorted. Her luggage was modest as well—a single wooden crate was all she had.”
“Really?”
A brief scoff of amusement brushed past his lips, prompting the Count to look up in bewilderment.
Though his expression had already slipped back into indifference, the speed with which he unfastened his buttons was faster than usual.
Taking the robe the Count had prepared, he turned his steps not toward his own quarters, but in a different direction.
“…Your Highness? Where are you going at this hour?”
“You said she was upstairs.”
“Ah… but it is terribly late, and—”
“You claim she is my wife. Does the hour matter?”
Strictly speaking, she was not yet his wife, but still.
Once the Grand Duke set his mind to something, there was no stopping him. Alarmed that he might vanish out of sight in an instant, the Count hurried forward to catch his stride.
“Y-Your Highness. She will surely be frightened. At least take this…”
“She didn’t strike me as the type.”
“Pardon?”
Never mind.
Muttering meaningfully under his breath, he looked down at the object resting on the velvet fabric the Count offered. The smirk that curled the corners of his lips was enough to send a chill through even a servant who had spent a lifetime by his side.
“…Well, this ought to be entertaining in its own way.”
◇ ◆ ◇
“…So this is the map.”
Rustle. I pulled the map of the North from the crate and spread it across the massive marble desk. At first, I had clicked my tongue at how needlessly dark and oversized all the furniture was, but when it came to laying out a map of this scale, it couldn't have been more fitting.
Hmm… Anyone looking at me right now would think I was a corporate chairman.
Standing over this magnificent slab of marble and poring over a map, I looked just like a corporate tycoon agonizing over entering the global market. Not that anyone actually saw me that way, of course; it was merely my little wishful thinking that I looked the part.
Then again, how was it any different? I was about to stick my fork into a slice of the North and claim it as my own, a decision every bit as momentous as any corporate venture.
And that wasn't all. The future of both my sister and me hung on this, so I had to be careful—exceedingly careful.
“Rose, you’re certain no one’s coming?”
“Yes, sister.”
When I looked up to double-check, Rose nodded from where she stood by the entrance. Seeing her press one ear flush against the thick door and form an okay sign with her tiny hand made my breath catch in my throat.
Gasp. Whose sister is that?!
Slap a pair of wings on her and she’d literally be a fairy! A fairy!
“I’ll keep a sharp lookout here. Don’t you worry about a thing, sister!”
“…Right, Rose.”
I wanted nothing more than to dash over right now and feel her shoulder blades to check if wings were sprouting, but it was time to focus on the map. There was no telling when the male lead, the Grand Duke, might return and catch me off guard. If I wanted to avoid panicking then, I had to concentrate and commit every detail to memory.
Yes, I had to do this right. If only to ensure our poor Rose would never have to be stuffed back into a wooden crate.
“…Now let’s have a look.”
The Cadastral Map I had bought from the bookstore served an entirely different purpose from an ordinary map. While standard maps were meant for finding directions, a cadastral map clearly marked land classification, surface area, lot numbers, and property boundaries.
…Yes, I know. Nobody asked for an explanation like that.
To put it simply, this was my seed capital and my golden goose. And who was I? A former real estate developer, and currently an aspiring candidate for a hermit survival show.
To someone like me, who could orient the four cardinal directions with my eyes closed, ordinary maps were fit only for coloring books.
To assess land at a single glance, one needed a map with clearly defined lot numbers and boundaries. It contained the most essential data: where in this vast expanse one could build houses and erect apartment complexes.
Of course, this map couldn't be identical to the ones I used in my past life.
Since the entire North belonged to the Grand Duke, they hadn't bothered to divide the land in minute detail. It was a pity that various pieces of information had been omitted, presumably to prevent it from being used for military purposes, but it was still remarkably thorough. What was more, keeping natural features such as mountains and lakes intact made it quite practical.
…So why was I here staring at plots of land?
To buy land or build a mansion?
No, no. As if.
If I had that kind of money, I would have fled with Rose long ago instead of dragging myself all the way out here. Yet the sole reason I was scouring this map with fiery eyes was simple: somewhere in these lands lay the very plot I intended to claim as my alimony!
“Heh heh.”
Even if someone called me wicked for harboring such thoughts before the wedding had even taken place, I didn't care. Clearly defined pros and cons for main and supporting characters were the hallmark of any novel.
Protagonists might have guaranteed wealth, prestige, and plot armor at the cost of being relentlessly noble and righteous in body and soul, but supporting characters bore no such burden.
What good were wealth and prestige to me anyway? A stray arrow brushing past from a mile away could send a minor character somersaulting into an early grave. There had to be some perk in doing whatever I pleased to make it fair. Besides, I wasn't even a proper supporting character—I was mere dust among the extras.
To introduce myself properly: I was the one tasked with embodying the 'so' in 'Our Lord Grand Duke was so cruel before he met the heroine.'
Once Cecil, the female lead, showed up, I was bound to be discarded anyway. I had to carve out my own path before that happened. Having no intention of carrying on an affair like Elijah, I planned to lay low, cater to his every whim, and then make off with a fortune in alimony.
No matter how mighty a Grand Duke he was, if I refused to grant a divorce, whatever he had with the heroine would be nothing more than an affair. Whether the two of them shared an epic romance destined to last ten thousand years, I, the lawful wife, had to step aside first. At least in this miserable life, that was one thing to be grateful for.
So I fully intended to milk that leverage for all it was worth. There was no way the Grand Duke would leave his beloved heroine branded as a mistress, which meant he would eventually have to swallow his pride and plead with me.
And when that moment came, channeling all the heartbreak of a discarded, tragic first wife, I would deliver my lines just like this:
“Your Highness, how could I ever return to my hometown now? As a shameful daughter, I cannot bear to place another burden upon my father’s heart.”
Dab a single tear here.
“Ah, if Your Highness would permit it, I wish only to entrust myself to that plot of land you mentioned before. I have nowhere else to go. Would it be too selfish of me to ask to live out my days quietly there, so as not to bring shame upon Your Highness?”
“…Ah, am I a genius or what?”
Rehearsing my future dialogue, I was momentarily swept up in admiration of my own brilliance.
Some might object, asking why the lawful wife had to be so servile, or arguing that if I was going to extort a rich husband, I ought to bleed him dry with fierce determination. But no, no—they knew nothing.
Even if this man had changed after meeting the heroine, he remained an ex-beast at his core. Where could an ingrained, bloodthirsty nature truly go?
If I stubbornly clung to him trying to squeeze out a few extra coins, I might end up receiving my own flayed skin instead of gold.
In the heavens above and the earth below, the Grand Duke reigned supreme.
It wasn't as though anyone had the power to punish him for it. At most, the heroine might cry, 'Your Highness, I thought you had changed! How could you do this? I am so disappointed in you!' and lock her door, leaving him to chase after her and plead frantically. All while my skin lay abandoned in a heap on the floor, no less.
“…Know your place and stay in your lane, Bella.”
A chill ran down my spine at the thought of that distant, hypothetical future, and I returned my gaze to the map.
As of right now, the most expensive land in the North was undoubtedly Liden's new district, which we had passed on our way here. Packed with bustling shopping arcades and the heart of tourism, its value was obvious at a glance. But if I asked for a place like that right off the bat, I would look like a woman plotting divorce from day one.
My role was to play the pitiable wife who lived as a nuisance before slipping away into obscurity. To maintain that, I couldn't show a hint of greed. A woman who supposedly had no inkling that the heroine would appear, packing her bags in a frantic hurry—what business would she have with the prime new district?
Since it had to be stipulated in the marriage contract beforehand, it needed to be a patch of land so unremarkable that anyone glancing over it would dismiss it as utterly worthless.
Desolate, abandoned, a place no one even knew existed.
Yet poised to transform into a veritable mountain of gold.
“…Heh heh heh.”
A thoroughly villainous, self-satisfied chuckle slipped past my lips.
I was staking my life, my youth, and a permanent scarlet letter on my registry for this—did anyone really think I would settle for actual barren dirt?
Second-life perks weren't handed out for nothing. I distinctly remembered reading that a certain parcel of northern land would later be chosen as the site for the imperial villa. The author had probably written it without much thought, just another indulgence showered upon the final lead couple, but to me, that single detail was a lifeline and a beacon of salvation.
So where was it?
Unfortunately, as I’ve said time and again, wrapping this up wasn't going to be that simple—because this novel was rated strictly 19+.
And true to the nature of smut novels… the narrative sections were ruthlessly skipped.
Exposition, worldbuilding, and politics were dead on arrival.
“Aargh, why did you do that, you idiot author!”
