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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 42
Chapter Title: Co-habitation Ends
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“My husband said something similar to me when he was young. It suddenly reminded me of that time.”
The Marchioness’s eyes curved gently. She spoke again in a soft voice.
“However, Sir. I don’t resent you.”
“……Excuse me?”
“Why would I resent you when it’s not your fault?”
Demian, who had naturally expected her to blame him and was ready to accept her resentment, was taken aback.
Not his fault? It was indeed his fault.
The Grand Duchess and the Ducal Family had tormented Aracilla to keep him in check, and he had endured Aracilla’s suffering to inherit the Ducal Family.
So, it was certainly his fault, yet…
“It’s the adults who bully who are at fault, not the bullied child.”
The Marchioness looked at Demian with a truly unresentful expression.
In her blue eyes, just like her daughter’s, there was no sign of anger or resentment.
Facing her, he naturally thought of his own family from his childhood, who always blamed him and justified all their actions.
‘It’s all your fault that we’re like this.’
‘You shouldn’t have been like your mother.’
‘You should have listened well.’
‘You should have been obedient instead of being so stubborn.’
His own blood family had treated him that way, yet a stranger whom he had met less than half a year ago placed no blame on him at all…
It filled him with an indescribably bitter and strange feeling.
“Of course, now that you’re married, I can’t simply see you and Aracilla as children, but a parent’s heart always sees their children as little ones.”
“……Is that so?”
Demian had lost his mother over a decade ago and lived worse than strangers with his father, so he had never experienced the kind of parental love the Marchioness spoke of.
Ah, he did have a similar thought every time he saw the Duchess cleaning up after Oscar’s messes.
Even at their age, one acts like a child, and the other cares for him like a child. That’s why Oscar Vandermir grew up to be such a spoiled brat.
“From now on, I’ve decided to cheer you both on. So, please live long and happily with our Aracilla.”
“…….”
“As long as your love for your wife, the greatest love in the world, doesn’t change, you two will be able to overcome any hardship that comes your way.”
“……Thank you for your kind words.”
The Marchioness smiled sweetly. Demian’s ears flushed red with embarrassment, and he offered his thanks without lifting his head.
The warmth embedded in her words seemed to seep into him, stirring his heart.
Perhaps it was because he had once wished for such a family himself.
Iris and the Marchioness returned home earlier than expected. This was thanks to their worries disappearing after confirming that Aracilla was perfectly fine.
After seeing them off, Aracilla grabbed Demian and returned to their shared bedroom.
“What did you talk about with my mom?”
She had been unable to contain her curiosity about what her mother and Demian had discussed earlier.
Her mother wouldn’t say a word, so she figured she’d have to pry it out of Demian.
“Just received some encouragement to live well from now on.”
“That’s all? Nothing else?”
“Nothing else.”
His plain answer held no hint of falsehood. Aracilla felt relieved, realizing he truly hadn’t said much.
Demian, who had been quietly watching her lean back comfortably on the sofa with a lighter heart, apologized softly.
“I’m sorry.”
“Huh? Suddenly?”
“When you were being tormented by the Grand Duchess, I didn’t step in to protect you, did I?”
Demian’s eyes lowered.
On the surface, Aracilla seemed fine, but one could never know.
Leaving no visible trace while inflicting wounds was the Vandermir family’s specialty. The Grand Duchess could have left invisible scars on Aracilla in the same way.
“Did you… cry a lot?”
He fiddled with his hands, clenching and unclenching them, as he asked, his gaze fixed downwards. Aracilla stared at his handsome but thoughtful face for a moment before speaking.
“I didn’t cry, though?”
“……?”
At the unexpected answer, Demian lifted his eyes and looked at Aracilla. She was still as bright as ever, her unique sparkle undimmed.
“If you heard a rumor that I cried every night, it’s all a lie.”
“…….”
“I intentionally spread those rumors to garner some sympathy.”
Demian looked at her smiling face, bewildered, and raised a question.
“But you had tears in your eyes when you saw me earlier, didn’t you?”
“Oh, that? I secretly pinched my thigh to force them out.”
Demian felt utterly hollowed out by her anticlimactic explanation. He had been even more upset seeing the tears welling in Aracilla’s eyes.
It was absurd, yet a relief.
At least she hadn’t cried.
“My thigh feels bruised because of it. You have to pinch really hard to make it hurt enough to cry.”
Aracilla, still rubbing her throbbing thigh, slightly lifted her dress. It was an unconscious action to check if she had indeed bruised her thigh.
Because of this, Demian, who was sitting opposite her, was horrified and grabbed her slender wrist, pulling her dress down.
“Are you insane? Did you forget I was here?”
“No, I didn’t forget.”
“But how could you lift your dress in front of a man—!”
“I’m sorry, I just didn’t particularly register you as a man.”
…What was that? Such a blow to his pride?
Aracilla had genuinely apologized for her unconscious action, but to Demian’s ears, it sounded like a provocation.
He had never particularly wished to be recognized as a man by her, yet a hollow laugh escaped him, feeling his pride utterly trampled.
“Is your eyesight so bad that you can’t tell I’m a man? Or is it your brain?”
“Neither. Do *you* recognize *me* as a woman, Demian?”
“Then, would I recognize you as a man?”
Aracilla felt awkward at his exasperated tone. At the same time, an odd curiosity surfaced.
“What if I was actually a man? What if I’d tricked you with magic?”
“Don’t ask hypothetical questions about impossible things. What value do such questions have?”
Even with Demian’s cold reaction, Aracilla persisted. It was always the way; if you didn’t answer hypothetical questions properly, you just got more curious.
“Why? Even if I look like a woman on the outside, I could be a man with no chest once I take my clothes off.”
“I know you’re not. When I saw you before, clearly…”
Demian’s words trailed off ambiguously as he inadvertently recalled Aracilla in her pajamas, her silhouette clearly visible.
Aracilla narrowed her eyes and stared at him, unmoving as if someone had cast a stasis spell.
“Saw what? I didn’t see it that way, you seem to be quite the pervert.”
“……That’s not it.”
“It’s not what?”
“…….”
“Hmph, to make such a fuss…”
*He saw everything, didn’t he.* Demian’s face instantly flushed crimson at her quiet murmur. If you took off his shoes, his soles would probably be burning red too.
“Do you have no sense of shame, Madam?”
“The one who peeked should be ashamed, why me?”
“I didn’t peek!”
Demian stood up abruptly, fuming. He had tried so hard not to look, even when it was right there, out of consideration for Aracilla.
As he let out a frustrated sigh, his eyes fell on the blanket on the bed. He strode over to the bed and picked up the blanket.
Then he wrapped Aracilla up in it.
“Since it’s so unfair, you can go around like this from now on.”
“What nonsense are you talking about? How can anyone walk around like this?”
“You’re a mage, aren’t you? Figure it out yourself.”
Demian replied coldly and left the bedroom. Aracilla, still tightly wrapped in the blanket, burst into laughter.
“Ah, he’s surprisingly fun to tease.”
Demian Vandermir was more fun to tease than she expected.
* * *
The guest room where the Grand Duchess was staying was bustling with maids packing her belongings. Unable to withstand the pressure from all sides, she was preparing to leave for the Ducal Territory.
This was a humiliating defeat, having achieved none of her desired outcomes.
“Why are you all so slow! Can’t you move faster?!”
The Grand Duchess took out her frustration on the innocent maids, guzzling down cold water. No matter how much water she drank, her throat felt parched, her insides burning with fury.
It was then, as she, unable to control her anger, tormented the maids with her incessant nagging.
*Knock, knock.*
Someone knocked on the door. The maid, sensing the mood, opened the door. And the one who appeared was none other than Aracilla.
“I heard you’re leaving tomorrow. I won’t be able to see you off due to work, so I came to say goodbye in advance.”
Aracilla entered with a bright smile, seemingly oblivious to the messy state of the room.
From the Grand Duchess’s perspective, it was utterly detestable and dreadful. After all, she was being forced out because of this very person.
“Why are you here? I don’t want to see your face, so get out!”
She glared sharply and snapped coldly. Aracilla merely shrugged, her expression unfazed.
“This is my house, so where exactly do you want me to get out to? You’re the one actually leaving the mansion, Grand Duchess.”
“You—!”
Just as the Grand Duchess, her blood pressure soaring from the audacious retort, was about to explode in anger.
“Grand Duchess, I have a lot to say, but I’ll just say one thing.”
Aracilla quickly closed the distance with large strides and whispered, just loud enough for the Grand Duchess to hear.
“I hope you’ve learned and truly felt that you shouldn’t mess with people carelessly.”
“……!”
It was the very phrase the Grand Duchess had always used to Aracilla.
*Learn from me, emulate me, know my power and feel respect.*
The Grand Duchess’s face flushed crimson and then pale with humiliation as her own words were thrown back at her.
Unable to tolerate it, she swung her hand to slap Aracilla’s cheek. But Aracilla swiftly dodged, leaving the Grand Duchess to flail uselessly in the air.
“Agh!”
She even lost her balance from the powerful missed swing and fell forward.
The Grand Duchess crashed to the floor, hitting her leg hard against a table, and screamed, feeling intense pain in her shin.
“Oh, my leg! Maria! My leg feels broken, come quickly and check it!”
“Yes, yes! Grand Duchess!”
The Grand Duchess’s maid, who had been waiting by the wall, rushed over.
“Ah, it seems your bone might be broken.”
“What? Go call a doctor right now!”
“Yes, understood!”
The Grand Duchess’s maid left in a hurry, and Aracilla crouched beside her.
“Since your leg is injured, you won’t be able to come up to the capital for a while, will you? Please rest comfortably in the Ducal Territory.”
“You, you purposely—!”
“What are you talking about? You tried to hit me and then fell by yourself. Be careful when you try to hit people from now on, alright?”
Aracilla added a very annoying smile to the end of her sentence, then dusted herself off and stood up.
“This damned wench! Do you think I’ll let you get away with this?! Come here, come back right now!”
The Grand Duchess, so enraged her eyes were almost rolling back, screamed, abandoning all pretense of dignity, but Aracilla merely left one last word before closing the door.
“No, I won’t.”
*Thump.* The Grand Duchess’s furious voice echoed loudly down the hallway where the door had just closed. Aracilla turned around with a refreshed expression, stretching.
And two days later, the co-habitation ended as the Grand Duchess, with a fractured leg, returned to the Ducal Territory.
