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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 78
Chapter Title: The Worn-Out Male Lead Picked the Wrong Opponent
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“I have something to say. Could you spare some time?”
Helen requested a conversation, but the duke regarded her with cold eyes.
“I don’t have anything particular to say.”
The duke, who showed no intention of conversing at all, openly embarrassed her.
After he coldly brushed past her, the sound of servants snickering softly came from behind.
Helen swallowed her humiliation and returned to her room.
‘…In the end, I have no choice but to handle it alone.’
After that day, Helen and the duke’s relationship devolved into a cold war where they didn’t exchange a single word.
Entering the bedroom, Helen saw that the bed hadn’t been properly prepared and called for the maid.
“Why haven’t you prepared the bathwater? The linens aren’t arranged properly either.”
“Duchess, is that really necessary right now?”
The maid shot back with a face full of annoyance.
Anger crept onto Helen’s features.
“What do you mean by that?”
“The duke doesn’t even visit, so I figured it wasn’t needed.”
The servants, who had long known she’d been relegated to the back chambers, began ignoring Helen outright.
Vulgar gossip was par for the course.
“A princess in name only. Nothing else worth looking at. I can’t stand watching her act all high and mighty.”
“You have no idea how fussy that woman is. She made me redo her hair three times because she didn’t like the style.”
Some even harbored idle fantasies.
“Don’t you think the duke might be lonely? No one to comfort him.”
“Get real. He goes to the royal club where all the elite gather. Probably spends time with ladies of his caliber.”
“Or maybe he’s not into women? I could fill that void for him.”
With the matriarch and the princesses absent, there was no one to reprimand them—they had nothing to fear.
Helen was practically a ghost in the duke’s residence. She had no one to confide in, no one she could trust.
The isolated predicament Cynthia had wished upon her had backfired onto Helen herself.
Left alone in the dim, empty room, she stared into the vanity mirror and felt a profound emptiness.
Her hair, usually tied up neatly, hung down in disarray. Dressed in a plain white nightgown without any embroidery, she no longer looked the least bit special.
‘Does one person’s attitude get to dictate my entire life?’
The existence of a powerless royal woman was utterly unjust.
She was human, after all—she couldn’t be immune to loneliness and solitude. Cynthia’s warning that she would end up alone kept echoing in her ears.
“…When have I ever not been alone? I’m not just someone’s wife. I’ll rise to the top on my own merits.”
Helen whipped her momentarily faltering self back into shape.
It was then, as her eyes blazed with singular determination to claim the highest seat of power—
“That’s impressive.”
Startled by the sudden unfamiliar voice, Helen whipped around.
“Who’s there?”
A human silhouette was visible between the open window and the swaying curtains.
Helen frantically yanked open a drawer and pulled out her self-defense pistol, aiming it.
The young man at the end of the barrel waved his hands as if to say, calm down. He was dressed in a sharp suit draped with a coat.
“Duchess, please save the demonstration of your purchased firearm for someone else.”
“I asked who you are.”
“You placed the commission. I’m a technician from Commedia dell’arte Company, here to serve as your dog and carry out any order you give.”
The man politely proffered a business card.
He was from the gun-smuggling organization she had contacted.
“As a VIP customer who purchased our product, anything you request is possible. Just pay, and we’ll handle it.”
His handsome features, smiling expression, and courteous tone evoked an exemplary service worker—but there was something subtly chilling and dangerous about him.
The mere fact that he had slipped through the duke’s residence’s stringent security via the window marked him as far from ordinary.
The man swept back his black hair, tinged with gray, and introduced himself.
“Please call me Capitan.”
Capitan was the name of a boastful character from the masked comedy Commedia dell’arte.
The company name matched—it all seemed like a deliberate concept.
As she thought it oddly suited him, he added,
“You said you were looking for someone?”
“Yes.”
Helen’s wary gaze traced the snake tattoo running from the back of his hand up into his sleeve.
The man reviewed the personal details she had provided and spoke.
“It’ll take about a week.”
“That long?”
“I work a one-day week. Especially need my weekends off.”
Could she really trust this man spouting such absurdities? His manner of speaking reminded her of a male version of Cynthia.
Helen wore a dubious expression.
“Fine, put it in writing. Now get out before someone sees you…”
“Your husband cheats so openly—what’s the problem?”
‘How does he know that?’
Noticing her subtle shift in expression, he continued,
“Our intelligence network is beyond your imagination.”
Helen recalled the factory explosion Cynthia had been caught up in recently.
She’d gone out shopping and injured her arm in the blast from a nearby gun manufacturing plant.
‘The duke said it was due to conflict between the Free Society and their group. Is it safe to get involved with such a dangerous faction?’
Moreover, the gun-smuggling organization had been founded by remnants of the fallen empire.
‘But that was ages ago—generations have turned over by now, and it looks like a purely profit-driven outfit these days.’
Suddenly closing the distance, the man seized Helen’s hand as she pondered. He then pressed a kiss to the back of her pale hand, smiling with his eyes.
His yellow eyes resembled those of a seductive black cat.
“Since the duchess is so beautiful, I might find them even sooner.”
Helen pulled her hand away with a stern expression.
She asked Capitan, who grinned back at her,
“Can I commission one more thing?”
“Of course. I’m yours for the time being—use me however you like.”
After a moment’s hesitation, she steeled her resolve and spoke.
“I want you to investigate the women the duke meets.”
“Understood.”
“Not his casual flings—I want to know if there’s someone he’s truly serious about.”
Capitan stared at her intently, then curved his eyes in a lazy smile.
“I can assure you, even if there’s someone he’s serious about, she won’t be as beautiful as the duchess.”
With those parting words, he turned and vanished.
“Your sales pitch is awfully direct.”
Helen gazed down at the business card he had left behind.
Sunday. Today’s schedule involved volunteering at the same orphanage as yesterday.
I rose at dawn and woke Masera, who was asleep on the sofa.
“I can’t go today. I have to head to Knox.”
Masera said he needed to check on the development work that had kicked into high gear.
“Okay.”
I put on an indifferent face.
Masera tidied his disheveled hair and sat up straight.
“Would you like me to postpone the Knox trip?”
“No, it’s an important schedule—go ahead.”
He fell silent, observing how I wasn’t clinging to him like before.
“A soldier must obey his wife, so if you insist that much, I suppose I have no choice but to reschedule…”
“I said no need to postpone? I can just go with Diego or Dalia.”
At my independent attitude, he shot me a look laced with dissatisfaction.
For some reason, our situations felt reversed from before. I flashed a bright smile and said,
“Take me next time. I’m curious what Knox is like.”
“…Understood.”
In the end, we decided to go our separate ways to fulfill our respective duties.
“I won’t escort you to the volunteer site. The train timing is awkward.”
“Yep.”
I headed out with him, who was openly showing his sulkiness.
Then Masera’s expression noticeably stiffened at the sight before the quarters.
“The brigadier general isn’t going with you today, right? I’ll escort you.”
“I was passing by anyway. Thought it’d be nice to go together.”
The waiting Lecanosa Duke and Rodriguez Major spoke to me in unison.
“I’ll take you there.”
Masera, who had just been sulking about not escorting me, declared firmly.
The major was my soulmate in sentiment from the start, but… why was the duke suddenly acting like this?
Was it because the development project’s success was becoming a foregone conclusion, prompting him to switch sides? Or was he worried I’d spread rumors about the affair scene?
“…”
Suddenly feeling a prickling gaze, I turned to find Masera staring right through me.
“Something you want to say?”
“Nothing in particular. Just don’t go off with strangers, don’t wander alone, don’t smile at or compliment just anyone…”
For someone who claimed to have nothing to say, he was saying quite a lot.
