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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 38
Chapter Title: The Worn-Out Male Lead Picked the Wrong Opponent
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Masera had spotted the suspicious men moving outside the observation wheel.
Just then, the fog cleared, revealing even the round letters on the paper they held.
It was Cynthia's handwriting. The paper the men possessed was the schedule she had written.
'They followed us all the way here. Or maybe they're locals operating in this area.'
There were countless enemies targeting him, a central figure in the war. His marriage partner would naturally become a target for many as well.
And that was precisely why he had rejected all other proposals and chosen the princess of the Variesa Royal Family as his spouse.
No matter what happened to her, Masera only needed to get what he wanted.
So there was no reason for him to worry about her or show her any consideration.
"Brigadier General, are you perhaps worried about me?"
Until she kept making him worry like this.
Masera gazed into her large eyes sparkling like rubies, then shifted his eyes to her white cheeks tinged with pink.
The kindness she showed him was nothing more than an act to make them look like a friendly couple. Nobles were adept at wearing masks, after all.
He hated it.
"I know what you're worried about, Brigadier General. I'll get stronger."
A gentle smile, a proactive attitude, eyes sparkling like she was looking at someone she truly adored.
"Teach me how to fight when we get back."
Cynthia clenched her fists tightly, making a brave bunny face.
'She's trying so hard to look cute. It's pointless.'
Masera rubbed his ear and turned his head away.
'I'll play along with this ridiculous role-play just this once.'
'Really just this once. Once the honeymoon ends, we'll live like complete strangers...'
Masera, who had come to the dessert cafe, accepted the cherry Cynthia offered him as punishment for violating the "absolute obedience during honeymoon" vow, all while thinking those thoughts.
He wished the honeymoon would end quickly.
"Lutemia Republic cherries are plump and sweet-tart, but the ones here are soft and sweet. It probably rains a lot, making the fruit a bit bland, but they pair surprisingly well with the sweet cream."
Behind the cheerfully chattering Cynthia, he could feel people's glances flicking their way.
In a country full of black-haired people, the entirely white Cynthia and dazzling platinum blond Masera stood out unmistakably as foreigners.
"Isn't that Brigadier General Vicente? I heard you'd entered the country."
"Oh my, to run into a war hero here of all places! What an honor!"
"He's even more handsome in person."
Soon, young women elegantly dressed approached Masera and began speaking to him in the Media tongue.
If they knew he'd entered the country, they must also know it was for his honeymoon—yet they offered no courtesy to his wife, treating her like she was invisible.
Those with fame faced endless temptations.
Some officers exploited their popularity for secret debauchery, and society turned a blind eye out of consideration for their wartime sacrifices.
But Masera's views on marriage were unwavering.
'Straying with another woman while having a wife? That's grounds for execution by firing squad.'
He glanced at Cynthia. She was eating her cake with her usual smiling expression, unchanged.
"Brigadier General, there's a social party at my mansion tomorrow. How about making time to attend?"
Masera stared fixedly at the woman who was ignoring Cynthia entirely.
"That's an inappropriate invitation to make to a married man. I refuse."
"Oh, I didn't mean it like that. Then why not come with your wife?"
"I refuse."
Growing uncomfortable with the unwanted attention, Masera wanted to leave right then. But Cynthia hated leaving food unfinished, didn't she?
"Madam, I'll buy fresh desserts from another shop, so let's go..."
'When did she finish all that?'
Masera blinked in surprise at the now-empty plate.
Cynthia elegantly wiped her mouth, flashing a wicked smile.
"No more if you look elsewhere."
'Women flirting with me didn't matter—cake was more important?'
Of course, not understanding Media helped, but the atmosphere hardly called for such nonchalance.
As Masera's expression hardened, Cynthia assumed he was upset about her devouring the cake alone and loudly promised to buy something even tastier at the next shop.
Back at the palace, Masera's face remained stiff the whole time. No matter what Cynthia chattered about, he responded only with curt one-word answers—harsher than his usual brevity.
"Aw, I won't do it next time. I thought you wouldn't eat any."
Cynthia assumed he was upset because she'd eaten all the cake by herself.
Masera sighed and headed into the bathroom.
'Acting so carefree on her own borders on brazen...'
He sank into the bathtub and swept back his wet hair. Whether from the hot steam or the rising mist, an indecent memory suddenly surfaced.
It was Cynthia sitting on his lap in the observation wheel, arms wrapped around his neck.
The sweet scent of milk-mixed peach and soap, her excited shoulders heaving dramatically, the warmth of her breath on his cheek.
Why did she have to be so beautiful, of all things?
"Brigadier General, now that you're married, shouldn't you think about producing an heir?"
He couldn't fathom why some busybody's unsolicited advice chose that moment to resurface.
He clenched his fist tightly.
After an unusually long bath, Masera emerged to find Cynthia approaching with damp hair, fresh from her own bath in the other bathroom.
"The Lecanosa matron and the princesses sent honeymoon gifts—pajamas. You said last time that my pajamas were no good."
"When did I say that?"
"You definitely did. They insisted we open them on the honeymoon, so let's take a look together."
Masera shook his head vehemently in refusal, but Cynthia dragged him along anyway, her face lit with excitement.
"They told us to open them on the trip. I bet they're couple pajamas, right?"
No matter the absolute obedience clause, Masera had zero intention of wearing couple pajamas. He desperately hoped they weren't.
Meanwhile, Cynthia eagerly opened the box and pulled out the pajamas to unfurl them.
"Ta-da."
For the first time since meeting Masera, she fell completely silent.
Masera's calm eyes scanned the garment dangling from her fingers, up and down.
"...Why on earth would they send something like this?"
Wasn't this just scraps of fabric?
Cynthia's face flushed with embarrassment as she hurriedly stuffed the pajamas back in and closed the box.
"Uh... There are more."
She cautiously opened another box, then slammed it shut again just as quickly. Something utterly beyond tolerance lay within.
"Too bad we can't wear couple pajamas, huh. Just stick to your uniform. I like uniforms anyway."
"I wish you'd at least stay silent while we're sleeping."
Masera abandoned the conversation and retreated to his designated spot on the sofa.
As Cynthia tidied up the boxes containing the unexpectedly indecent and embarrassing items, she gazed at his lonely retreating back.
'Who knew he was so innocently pure. Cute. Teasing him is fun.'
