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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 20
Chapter Title: The Doomed Male Lead Chose the Wrong Opponent
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Early in the morning, the Lecanosa Duke and Helen set off for their honeymoon.
The Queensguard family had to leave as well, but the Queensguard Count called Cynthia aside for a moment, claiming it was family time.
"Cynthia, you sure know how to butter up those fine princesses. Looks like they all took a liking to you."
As the real power in the duke's household belonged to the Lecanosa matriarch, the Count saw it as a good thing that Cynthia had earned her favor.
It would help Helen, who was stiff and struggled to mingle.
'A kid who knows how to charm the adults. She'd be pretty useful in high society.'
It was a shame her shelf life wasn't long.
The Count knew some of the servants he'd sent had died, but he didn't bring it up.
They'd been caught stupidly pilfering and selling official supplies, so it wasn't something to grill Cynthia over.
Cynthia, munching on a cookie from the tea tray, spoke up.
"The ladies? I chatted with them, and they seemed bold and nice enough."
It was the complete opposite of Helen's assessment.
Maybe she was just the type whose natural disposition was a bed of flowers, loving everyone.
The Count eyed the red diamond necklace around Cynthia's neck.
'Margarita Princess was like that too. Generous enough to hand a royal heirloom to a refugee woman as thanks.'
True to the Queensguard name—a knightly house sworn to protect the queen—the Count and Margarita Princess had known each other since childhood.
She was kind and innocent, in a way that didn't match the infamous reputation of the Variesa Royal Family.
In other words, the perfect mark to exploit.
"See? I knew a capable girl like you would become the Queensguard heir. Oh, my engagement's been decided this time. To the second prince of the neighboring empire. But I don't want to marry a man I don't love. Even if that's a princess's fate..."
She hadn't come easily into his grasp.
'But in the end, after she fell and broke, she landed right in my hands.'
His pure feelings for the princess had twisted into desire over time.
Lost in thought, the Count clenched his empty fist as if grasping something.
He watched intently as Cynthia popped a large pastry into her mouth whole.
"Cynthia, see you at the wedding. Remember—if it falls through, you're the only one who ends up ruined."
In truth, even if Cynthia confessed she was a fake, the Count had plenty of ways out.
There was no proof she was an imposter anywhere.
No matter what Cynthia did, he could just play it off as, "She suffered from homesickness. She just wanted to go back to her family."
Of course, Cynthia knew the Count was a sly fox all too well.
"No way it'd fall through. I get to live easy as the wife of a wealthy officer, no work, just chilling—sounds great to me."
Cynthia flashed a bright smile with her simple conclusion.
Karos and Edford eyed her with clear displeasure.
"Snow White, let's keep in touch often."
Her attitude was still haughty, her tone cool, but the matriarch had already coined a nickname for me.
At least it wasn't sugar, flour, or rice.
"Yes, Matriarch. I'd love to visit every day if I could. I'm family now, so please treat me casually like Helen sis."
"Then I'll assume tea parties every day after the wedding."
Mrs. Hills, the sharpest-looking of them, tilted her chin up with a teasing remark.
Mrs. Verache joined in with her usual frosty expression.
"Let's go to the Star-Gazing Sardine Festival next spring. There's a sardine cooking contest with famous chefs from every country—you could join as a special judge."
"Really? That sounds so fun! My heart's already racing—I wanna go now!"
It wasn't just polite talk; it seriously sounded like a blast.
A sardine cooking contest? No way I could miss that. The world had been hiding something this exciting from me!
We could've gossiped about that irresistible topic for at least an hour, but the heartless Masera cut me off, said we should head out, and bowed politely.
"Meow."
Then, out of nowhere, a plump cheese-like cat waddled over, rubbing against Masera's leg and wrapping its tail around it.
It purred so cutely—I reached to pet it, but it deftly dodged my hand.
Mrs. Verache tilted her head.
"That's weird. It only does that to people who feed it."
Feed it? I frantically checked my pockets, but all I had were peanut candies and a tiny pinecone. Darn.
Seeing the smug look in Masera's eyes, it hit me—he hadn't slipped away yesterday to build a snowman; he'd gone to the garden to bribe the kitty.
"Daddy!"
I beamed as I approached the Queensguard Count, who was also preparing to leave.
He flinched at "Daddy," glanced at me, then cleared his throat awkwardly.
"Cindy, what's up?"
"Guess we'll see each other at the wedding. You'll miss me."
At my pitch-perfect daughter act, the Count gave an embarrassed smile.
The matriarch, assuming he was conscious of the onlookers, covered her mouth and laughed.
"It's just family here, so relax. Can't blame you for hating to let go of your precious youngest—she's the apple of your eye."
"Exactly. Unlike mature Helen, she's still such a baby, always acting spoiled..."
The Count chuckled awkwardly and ruffled Cynthia's hair.
After that, Masera said nothing the whole ride back home in the carriage.
He was the quiet type anyway, but today felt... different.
Like someone staring at the ceiling before bed, tallying up all the ways I'd let him down lately, and slowly resolving to pull away.
I tried talking to him like usual.
"Like cats? You didn't grab snowman stuff that day—you brought cat treats."
"I don't."
He replied indifferently and opened a book.
But the title was Intensive Study of Cats?
Not wanting to bug his reading, I didn't press.
Instead, I peeked over— he even turned away from that.
'Sneaky. Hogging all the cat's affection for himself...'
I vowed to ransack the official residence library later.
The duke's estate and the official residence weren't far apart, so the two arrived in under an hour.
But the residence was busier than usual.
Most were soldiers in sharp uniforms—it turned out they were scouts returning from a disputed zone to report in.
"Hello!"
They smiled back warmly at Cynthia's bright greeting.
But the moment they realized she was a remnant of the fallen Variesa dynasty, their attitudes flipped.
"What right does a royal scum like her have to smile like that?"
"Grew up holed up in the countryside, clueless about the world. Probably doesn't even know what her family did to the people."
They couldn't badmouth their superior's fiancée outright, so it stayed gossip, but their glares dripped with negativity.
'Oh no...'
Cynthia covered her mouth, looking troubled at the soldiers' cold reception.
'They must really hate that rude brigadier general... The boss always takes the flak. Guess I need to be nice to them too.'
She'd just come back from being fawned over by the duke's ladies and briefly forgotten her status as a hated royal.
One officer in particular shot her a venomous glare.
'Marriage? To that idiot of a woman?'
