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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 5
Chapter Title: The Worn-Out Male Lead Picked the Wrong Partner
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"The part where the male lead regrets after the female lead dies, writhes in anguish, and then takes his own life. Dopamine and tears explode at the same time, really."
In her previous life, Cynthia had a sister whose tastes were like a trash bin.
With air raids happening every other day due to the war, holing up at home reading novels or webtoons had been her one and only pleasure back then.
"A 'da-ga-jjuk' ending where everyone dies together? Pervert. Why do you like that stuff?"
"This is the real tasty stuff. Just take one bite. You'll see paradise."
"Oh, you trash bin who scavenges only the world's filthiest things. Your current life is already hellish, and you have to read that crap?"
"It's the male lead and female lead in a toxic relationship, and the part where he finally realizes his feelings while reading her posthumous letter after she dies... that's the killer moment."
"Ah, I can't handle spicy stuff like that."
If she had enjoyed reading things like that too, she'd probably be rolling around suffering in a dark romance world without a doubt.
In the end, I'm the winner for landing in a romance, healing, salvation world!
Unaware that this place was not healing material but lethal poison, Cynthia walked down the corridor with a beaming smile.
"I wonder if Sis is living a new life right now too?"
"Hey! If you luckily survive this time too, swear on the Styx River you'll read it! I read your recommended <Cute Sunny Lady Wins Everything> for you! I'm seriously pissed!"
It was a novel her sister loved so much she kept pushing it even in their final moments parting.
And she wouldn't even tell her the title.
I hope she's at least playing the fairy role in the <Cute Sunny Lady Wins Everything> world.
As for our brother who was a soldier... he probably went to one of those overpowered worlds he loved watching.
"Ah."
As she walked while reminiscing about her previous life, Cynthia suddenly remembered something and stopped with a serious expression.
Soon, she turned back the way she came and stood before Masera again.
"But I don't know where my room is. Do we share a room, by any chance?"
Masera tilted his head expressionlessly and looked at her.
"Are we close enough for that?"
"We should be. We already registered the marriage, even if we haven't had the ceremony yet. You must be really shy."
No matter what she said, he showed no reaction at all. He really didn't seem normal, no matter how she looked at it.
She held out her hand and asked.
"At least you're close enough to escort me to my room?"
"Too much hassle."
As he flatly refused with a smile, Cynthia pursed her lips and glared at him, eyes raised. She looked just like an angry little animal.
"That's not fair... Guess I need to get my hands on an interior map or something..."
She muttered complaints as she turned away.
Cynthia's natural innocence was more than enough to stir his stubbornness and competitive spirit. The corner of Masera's mouth curved up slyly.
"Wonder how long you can stay so carefree."
He planned to show her what a terrible choice she'd made after the wedding ceremony was over.
He looked forward to seeing her fall into despair and become powerless.
* * *
A maid who spoke in a stiff, military tone guided her to the room.
Emphasizing that they would use separate rooms until the wedding, the maid said.
"Please call if you need any assistance."
"I need help unpacking..."
The maid set down the luggage and left before she could even finish speaking.
I get it. She wants to clock out early.
I looked around the room and grinned widely.
"This is too good."
The joy of finally having her own room washed over her. In her previous life, she'd always shared a room with her sister.
The servants from the count's family who had come with her didn't show their faces at all, let alone help with unpacking or attend to her. They were probably all here as surveillance.
"But there's no freezer."
The room was nice, but too cold. I pulled the bell cord to summon a maid.
"Seems like we're short on firewood. Being north-facing makes the room really chilly."
In response to my request, the maid shook her head with a blank expression.
"The current amount is sufficient."
I looked at the three logs inside the fireplace, then back at her.
This is... the classic romance-fantasy bullying cliche?
"It's woefully insufficient."
"Regulations stipulate a fixed daily amount of firewood."
Regulations? Not like we're poor. Living in this grand mansion as rich folk, and limiting firewood for just one cozy fire?
Scrooge? Or some extreme training instructor?
"So you've been enduring bone-chilling nights with just that little bit?"
At my sympathetic look, the maid looked flustered.
"If you're worried about getting in trouble, I'll go fetch it myself."
As I boldly stepped out of the room, the maid followed with a panicked voice.
"Lady, what are you... Do you even know where it is?"
"I do. South-facing shed in the garden."
Firewood for fireplaces needs to be thoroughly sun-dried.
Ten-plus years of servant experience. Cynthia's thrifty know-how from her memories is coming in handy.
"What brings you here?"
In front of the south-facing shed, a woman who seemed like a senior maid asked.
I answered brightly.
"Came for more firewood since we're short!"
I struggled to pull out a bundle of firewood and turned to her.
"What era is this, forcing people to endure freezing nights over something so petty? The master of this house must be a real villain. There's even a child here. Labor unions and child protection groups would never stand for it..."
The senior maid, listening to me, clasped her hands politely and said.
"The Brigadier General is not like that at all. If anything, I hear more firewood was allocated to your room, Lady."
She must think I'm being greedy and demanding extra.
"There were only three logs? You're welcome to come check with me."
For a moment, the senior maid's face stiffened. She seemed to finally grasp the situation.
"...My apologies. I failed to properly instruct the underlings. Allow me to apologize on their behalf. Most of the manor servants harbor resentment toward the royal family. Please forgive them generously."
It was phrasing loaded with 'You're the bad royal!'
"That's understandable. Not everyone in the world can like me."
Yelling here or creating a hostile atmosphere for a lecture would be amateur hour.
"I get it. My unique appearance draws that kind of gaze even more."
At my wistful look, the senior maid's pupils shook wildly as she stared at my silver-white hair and red eyes.
"I-I'm not prejudiced. When I first saw you, I just thought you were beautiful."
A master subdues with a smile, making the opponent feel guilt and remorse instead.
From my experience, it's best not to create conflict unless necessary.
I don't think I'd win a fight anyway, so better to get along. I glanced at her sturdy arm and said.
"Thank you, Dalia. Your amber eyes are pretty too."
"You know my name?"
"Everyone introduced themselves right when I arrived at the manor."
"...You memorized all those names at once?"
Surprise colored Dalia's questioning voice.
I just smiled silently and looked at her.
I happened to remember hers. In my previous life, my brother's dog was named 'Kim Dalia'.
"Dalia, will you be my personal maid?"
"If you order it, I have no choice but to obey..."
She said it like complying with an unreasonable superior's command.
Hmm, thought she was almost won over, but she's still resistant.
On the way back with Dalia and the firewood, I ran into the sullen black-haired boy again.
"Hello!"
I greeted brightly, but the kid snarled at me like a hissing cat.
"Why are you still here? Go back to your house!"
"Why?"
"Because this is our house!"
"It's my house too, legally family."
"I was family before you came."
After a fierce argument, I made one proposal.
"How about we settle it with a coin toss? Tails, and I'll leave."
"Fine."
I pulled out a coin, tossed it high, and slapped my palm over it.
"Time to check!"
The kid saw heads, puffed his cheeks, and held up three fingers.
"Like a match, best of three."
I accepted his idea and did it two more times, but it still landed heads.
Even doing it himself yielded heads, and the kid's face turned beet red with rage as he started to sniffle.
Dalia was looking at me like I was a childish adult.
"Not cheating. I'm lucky with this stuff."
It'd be nice if I could win big at gambling and live well alone, but that kind of luck always demands a price.
I gave the kid a gentle smile.
"Don't chase me away. I'm a loner."
At my words, the kid's peridot eyes wavered.
"Sis has no family either?"
"Practically none. What's your name?"
The kid opened his mouth with eyes tinged with empathy.
"Eugene."
"A noble name meaning 'well-born.' Whoever named you must love you a lot."
Hearing that, Eugene suddenly pouted, stomped the ground, and yelled.
"I still hate you, Sis!"
And he scampered off quickly.
I've gotta target that prickly baby kitten and stuff him in my pouch.
I imagined the day the truth came out, Eugene clinging to Masera's clothes, bawling not to kill me.
Then he surely wouldn't be able to kill me.
