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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 26
Chapter Title: The Worn-Out Male Lead Picked the Wrong Opponent
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'Well, since she's the woman who's about to become my wife, I have no choice but to take her side.'
Watching Masera speak kindly to Cynthia, Captain Declan grumbled inwardly.
Openly criticizing the woman who would become his wife would be like spitting in his own face.
To soldiers, a wife was an ally on the outside and the supreme commander on the inside. It was a phenomenon born from most officers marrying up.
The captain shot a glare around, gauging the officers' reactions.
One officer quietly savored the ratatouille before turning a serious gaze toward Cynthia.
He held the rank of major general, higher than brigadier general, and was Masera's superior.
"This ratatouille tastes different from the usual."
Major General Izac Lewan was known for being picky, strict, and a sharp-tongued critic.
Those who invited him to dinners in hopes of advancing their careers laid out every delicacy imaginable, but he had never once praised anything.
'Sentiment won't work on a major general like him. Food means nothing to him. He'll surely criticize it as unfit for a formal dinner.'
Captain Declan set down his fork, anticipating the harsh critique to come.
The major general spoke with his characteristic sharp expression.
"It tastes just like the one my father used to make when I was a child. He was from Francia."
Major General Izac closed his eyes, fork still in hand, letting out a long sigh as if savoring the memory. When he opened them again...
"It's been a long time since I thought of the old days. Did you make this yourself, Princess? I'd be grateful if you shared the recipe."
It was tremendous praise from a man who only ever criticized.
A servant standing by to attend frowned slightly and glanced at Cynthia.
She had expected Cynthia to claim she made it herself, but Cynthia firmly shook her head.
"The mansion's chef made it. As expected from someone from Francia, his culinary skills are outstanding. I'll get the recipe for you later."
It was common knowledge that the chef prepared the dinner, but most wives claimed they had overseen everything themselves.
Surprised by the unexpected response, the major general dabbed his mouth with his napkin and said,
"No need. I think it's best to eat it made by a Francian chef in person. Would you invite me for meals occasionally?"
It was the first time the major general, who turned down countless invitations, had asked to be invited himself.
"Of course. You can even stay here. I'll take you on a world tour through our cuisine."
At Cynthia's unforeseen reply, the corners of the major general's mouth, which had seemed incapable of smiling, twitched slightly.
Captain Declan felt a sense of crisis.
'Did she even investigate that the major general's father was from Francia? She's no ordinary woman. My mistake for underestimating her innocent face.'
In truth, it was pure coincidence. It was as if the heavens themselves were on Cynthia's side—coincidences aligned strangely in her favor.
Meanwhile, Masera, who had been gleefully plotting ways to torment Cynthia, now stared rigidly at his own plate.
"Uh, Brigadier General, yours is the only one plated differently. It's in a heart shape."
An oblivious officer announced it loudly enough for everyone to hear.
The vegetables on Masera's plate were stacked in a heart shape.
Masera shook his head firmly.
"It just happened to turn out that way by coincidence and low probability while eating."
"What do you mean by that?"
Masera's gaze, skipping over the flustered officer, landed on Cynthia.
"Aw, you're such a shy one. I specially made only yours into a heart shape!"
Meeting his eyes, Cynthia beamed innocently at him and formed a finger heart. Masera whipped his head away.
'She planned this from the start.'
She wasn't sunlight—she was intense ultraviolet rays.
Unable to shake the feeling of being tricked, Masera gulped down his water.
"Ahaha, already in newlywed mode, I see. Looks good on you."
"Getting to marry such a bright and lovely woman—you must be envious. You'll be smiling every day."
The officers, assuming the two got along well, began showering them with blessings.
They took Masera's turned head as mere shyness.
'Right on plan.'
Cynthia smirked darkly at Masera's tormented expression.
In any case, she had shown they got along, won over Masera's superior, and the food was delicious—a successful dinner.
On top of that, revenge on Masera for deliberately calling her "Princess" was complete.
'In the end, like the mouse recognized as a chef, the day will come when prejudice and hatred fade away.'
She had once been despised as a "jinxed white rat" for her appearance.
But now, it served as proof that she was a descendant of the "Great Frost Queen."
Cynthia smiled, gazing out the window at the gentle snowfall.
After the meal, only the officers involved in the business remained.
The officers, satisfied with the meal, were in exceptionally good moods.
That was one reason important discussions were held over dinner.
Brigadier General Steve looked at Cynthia and asked,
"We're about to start talking business. Is that alright? It might be boring for a lady unfamiliar with these matters."
It was a subtle way of saying she didn't belong and should leave, laced with condescension.
"It's fine. Don't I need to know how things are going too?"
Captain Declan openly showed his discomfort at Cynthia's words.
"You're not even the lady of the house yet. Is it alright for you to hear confidential business matters? As an investor, I'm concerned."
Since they weren't married yet, it was a reasonable point.
"Haha, true. Even with a wedding date set, anything can happen before stepping into the chapel."
Brigadier General Steve tossed out a joke that would linger unpleasantly.
'Saying "Even if we die, we'll get married" here would be ridiculous. For now, retreat while considering Masera.'
As Cynthia prepared to excuse herself, Masera spoke.
"Unless one of us disappears, the marriage will happen, so no need to worry."
Did he have to say it so murderously?
Cynthia's eyes widened round. In truth, it wasn't much different from her own "Even if we die, we'll marry" line.
"To put it coldly, doesn't she have no authority at all?"
Masera slowly shook his head at Captain Declan's sharp words.
"You're mistaken. The 'Princess' has authority in this business too."
'Thanks for backing me up, but drop that title.'
Cynthia shrugged her shoulders and shot him a pointed glare at the oddly emphasized title.
Ignoring her, Masera continued.
"So, I plan to start with the mountain range survey according to the Princess's opinion."
Brigadier General Steve asked in an irritated tone.
"What does that mean? If the Princess interferes without qualifications, I'll withdraw my investment. Unless she shows some proof of trust."
His greedy eyes made it clear he expected material sincerity.
Following his lead, officers in Brigadier General Steve's faction exchanged glances and threatened to pull out.
But Masera didn't flinch.
"She has ample qualifications. The Knox region was recently changed to joint ownership under Cynthia 'Princess' and myself. Now, we can't even begin without her permission."
At the revelation that Cynthia held the reins of the business, all eyes turned to her.
Given recent scandals, the Queensguard Count must have transferred ownership before the marriage.
'But Masera made Knox joint ownership? Why?'
Cynthia blinked in surprise.
For some reason, it felt like she was on trial.
A test of her luck—and whether she was truly on his side.
It seemed like he was showing trust first to confirm hers.
"I'll accept the withdrawal intentions so far."
Masera's lowered voice rang out.
"Whether it's the Princess's property or not, what does it matter? I'm not withdrawing. It has unprecedented potential."
It was the word of Major General Izac, the highest-ranking person present.
The officers who had opposed but never intended to actually withdraw were thrown into confusion.
