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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 43
Chapter Title: The Wretched Male Lead Picked the Wrong Partner
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On the last day, before the two departed for the Lutemia Republic.
The queen, seated in the audience chamber, pointed at Cynthia and spoke to Masera.
"Leave the princess behind."
Her face was utterly serious, without the slightest hint of a joke.
Masera silently alternated his gaze between Cynthia and the queen.
"We're not like that. We just slept together."
Sensing that their relationship was being questioned, Cynthia hurriedly made an excuse.
As Masera's brow furrowed, the queen—still wearing a serious expression—continued.
"It's a joke. My daughter and granddaughter will arrive soon, so hurry along."
Cynthia returned the queen's sly wink with a smile.
After bidding farewell to the queen and exiting the audience chamber, Cynthia linked arms with Masera and clung tightly to him. She was in an exceedingly good mood, having made the most of their remaining schedule.
"Thanks to you, it was so much fun. And thank you for the gifts."
Masera looked down at her with an expressionless face.
"What did I buy?"
"Argh, no need to play coy. The cat ornament for a speedy recovery, the feng shui prosperity charm for drawing in money, the queen's coronation commemorative plate, the Monopoly board game, the teddy bear..."
Everything had been bought with Masera's money anyway, so Cynthia kept expressing her gratitude.
It was a bit like that good-words onion experiment—if he was exposed to positive language often enough, maybe Masera would turn into a kind person toward her. That was her thinking.
"Brigadier General, you're such a good and wonderful person. You never get annoyed and do everything I ask."
"Enough with the positive brainwashing."
Hmph, you like it but act all tsundere. Cynthia wore a sly smile.
Masera cleared his throat and continued.
"...I was surprised. I knew you were sociable, but I didn't expect you to win over even the Queen of Media."
He could sense the queen's firm resolve not to let anyone mistreat Cynthia.
How had she ended up on Cynthia's side after just one day, when he'd known her far longer?
"We're business partners, aren't we? You're a key connection of mine, so of course I have to make a good impression."
Honestly, theirs wasn't a marriage born of affection like an ordinary couple's. It was solely for a shared purpose.
'Business partners. So that's how she sees it.'
For some reason, Masera didn't like the sound of that. He couldn't quite figure out why.
"Your relationship with your wife looks quite good, Brigadier General."
At that moment, elegant and composed Median speech drifted from behind them.
Grand Duchess Charlotte approached the pair and flashed a bright smile.
"Though I do wonder if one could fall in love with the very person who plunged them into misfortune."
Cynthia gazed at the grand duchess's noble yet somewhat haughty face. She couldn't help thinking it resembled Helen's somehow.
'Does she know I can't understand Median and say these things right in front of me?'
Cynthia maintained her smiling composure without a hint of disturbance.
Masera glanced at her before replying in Median.
"Why do you say that?"
"The proposal I made to you before is still valid."
Masera's face remained impassive.
"I'm already married."
Cynthia quickly surmised that the proposal in question was marriage.
Stepping closer, the grand duchess gave Cynthia a kind smile before lowering her voice.
"I'm planning to refuse the marriage to King Blake on the grounds of my unrequited love for you. The queen has a weakness for such romantic tales."
Cynthia's heart jolted at the words "unrequited love."
'She's just using it as a means to an end, but... it's oddly intriguing.'
Offering her hand for a shake, Grand Duchess Charlotte added to Cynthia.
"Explaining the situation to the princess ahead of time to clear up any misunderstandings is your responsibility, Brigadier General. It might not even be necessary, but just in case."
Still feigning ignorance, Cynthia shook her hand.
'That said, King Blake... isn't he that old king known for his lechery? How awful.'
Being pushed into a marriage was much the same for anyone. Political unions for family gain were the norm here.
Feeling a pang of sympathy, Cynthia squeezed her hand firmly.
"You were born to be loved. I hope you find true freedom and happiness."
The grand duchess shot Masera a look, silently requesting a translation.
Masera straightened his sleeve with nonchalance and said in a flat tone.
"She says to hurry up and go because it's annoying."
Hey! Don't sabotage me! Don't pass off what you want to say as my words!
But all she could do was scream internally. After all, Cynthia's cover was that she didn't understand Median.
Grand Duchess Charlotte smiled warmly.
"Such a joker."
The grand duchess watched the backs of the departing pair.
Besides Masera, would another man appear who truly recognized her worth?
"Vicente Brigadier General. I need a lifelong loyal partner—someone to share my life's journey."
"Even if it's not me, someone truly worthy of you will come along, Grand Duchess."
"...But that princess is far too endearing to simply bide my time."
She might not know Lutemian, but she had clearly caught the words "love," "freedom," and "happiness" in what Cynthia had said.
At the port, on the dockside.
"Hurry up! You're so damn slow! What the hell am I suffering through because of you?"
A man berated the woman.
The woman, laden with massive bundles in both hands, was deathly pale and gasping for breath.
It was Anita, once a maid of the Queensguard Count Family.
She had been the only servant who never tormented Cynthia. Thanks to Cynthia's warning, she had fled the count's household and survived.
She had been hiding out in Media with her lover Hans until now, when they were caught for illegal entry and deported back home.
"Huh?"
Heading toward third class, Anita spotted someone bound for the uppermost first-class cabin and widened her eyes.
It was Cynthia, dressed in luxurious finery unlike her maid days. She was arm-in-arm with a tall, handsome man in an officer's uniform.
"What are you dawdling for?"
Hans shoved her, causing her to drop her luggage.
Ignoring the torrent of curses, Anita stared blankly at Cynthia.
The dashing officer had platinum-blond hair and enigmatic eyes, looking every bit the prince as he courteously escorted her.
Suddenly, her gaze fell on the parasol in Cynthia's hand—the very one Anita had given her as a farewell gift.
After Cynthia's true identity as the count's daughter came to light, tales of her marrying a splendid man and departing always felt like a romantic fairy tale.
'Cynthia lives like a princess, unlike me.'
She had once believed her own life—fleeing with her beloved to build a new one—was plenty romantic. Until reality's harsh blow.
Hans, following her line of sight to the first-class area, eyed it with greedy gleam.
"What, know some noble? Go ask for a loan."
"No, it's nothing."
Anita shook her head in denial.
Running into Cynthia like this would spell trouble.
The count had killed off all the servants to bury Cynthia's humiliating past as a lowly maid.
If that came out, it would be just as bad for Cynthia. Her final warning to hide far away had been an act of mercy.
'If the count hears I'm still alive... I'll be killed.'
Instinctively, Anita caressed her belly.
Hans stared at her ashen face before curling his lips in a sinister grin.
"Wander around first class, and we'll see. Whether you're telling the truth or lying."
Anita had once thought her lover, Hans Everett, was a good man.
Born the illegitimate child of a noble and a maid, he might even inherit a minor title if fortune smiled on him.
Marrying him could elevate her from lifelong maid to nobility—or so she had hoped.
Above all, she felt deep gratitude toward Hans for fleeing with her.
That is, until he was caught posing as a noble in Media and they were forced to run again.
