Chapter 40

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 40

Chapter Title: The Bet Where Losing is Good

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“I want to pick the flowers myself.”

More precious to Clodel than the dress she'd received today was the brief glimpse of his smiling face.

No more gifts. Or rather, I'll stop accepting them. Rumors might start circulating in the territory at this rate.

What kind of rumors?

That the wicked daughter of House Vermonte came as a bride and is squandering House Temneth's fortune on luxuries.

Ha. Haha.

Kaiyan rarely showed her his smiling face.

It was like a single ray of sunlight piercing through heavy clouds.

Like a shooting star streaking across a summer night sky, briefly splitting the darkness.

Or like thunder extending like a tree branch beside a delicate leaf trembling with raindrops.

Short, sudden, and sometimes intensely, it left an afterimage in Clodel's eyes.

Why on earth is he smiling?

The first time he'd smiled was when she'd flailed about, drowning in the water.

She could accept that her drowning had looked comical, but...

Clodel felt frustrated because she couldn't figure out what made Kaiyan smile.

She inwardly seethed, wondering if knowing when and why he smiled would let her see that face more often.

“Sigh.”

“You want to pick flowers? Shall we go to the greenhouse?”

Clodel shook her head at Hanna's question.

“No. I just misspoke.”

“Madam. Is something troubling you?”

“Hm?”

“You've been eating so little lately. Shall I call the doctor?”

Aside from the lunches she shared with Kaiyan, her appetite had waned, and she'd been picking at her food for days.

Hanna, who watched over her like a hawk, couldn't possibly miss it.

“Why? Why? Have you come to hate me now? Why can't you tell me?”

“That couldn't be farther from the truth.”

“If you're still my closest friend in my heart, what's so hard to say? Madam, have you changed?”

At Hanna's words, Clodel finally raised the white flag and confessed.

There was actually another reason she felt increasingly anxious and uneasy every time she saw Kaiyan.

“You know, Hanna.”

“Yes.”

“What if Kaiyan...”

Her chest fluttered sensitively just trying to bring it up.

“...with the lord? Why would the lord...?”

“What if he sees Irena and falls for her?”

“Pardon?”

Hanna's brown eyes widened.

“Irena's a beautiful, refined lady. So poised and confident.”

“What nonsense is that?”

“You said it yourself, Hanna. No man in the world dislikes a beauty.”

Hanna burst into laughter as if she'd heard something outrageous.

“Ah. Haha. Oh dear. What to do.”

“Why? Why are you laughing?”

One more person had joined the ranks of those whose reasons for smiling eluded Clodel.

“No way. Was your lost appetite and low energy because of such an absurd worry?”

“Absurd? I'm serious about this.”

“Ahahaha.”

Hanna's laughter grew louder as she watched Clodel furrow her brow in earnest seriousness.

“Whew. Miss, don't you know the lord's heart at all?”

“What? You know? How?”

“Goodness, my sanity. Calling the madam 'miss' now. Anyway.”

Hanna looked at Clodel with a flushed face, her laughter finally subsiding.

“The lord is completely smitten with you, madam. He comes to your bedroom every night.”

“I asked him to.”

“These dresses and jewels. Men don't give such gifts to women they don't care for.”

“Hanna, you haven't even been in love yourself.”

Even at Clodel's pointed remark, Hanna stood firm.

“Do I have to experience it myself to know? I've grown up hearing all about it from my sisters.”

“Back when we lived in Valmond Castle, not a single man showed interest in me.”

Everyone had been captivated by Irena's beauty.

When Clodel and Irena stood side by side,

every young man offered flowers to Irena as if Clodel were invisible, praising her beauty.

Kaiyan always wore a slightly irritated, cold expression.

Only in front of Clodel did his face soften a little, and sometimes he even smiled.

What if, when Irena arrived and stepped out of the carriage, Kaiyan saw her and fell at first sight?

The last time he'd come to Valmond Castle for the wedding, he'd arrived just as the ceremony began, married her, and left immediately without even greeting the Vermonte family, claiming he was busy.

So he'd barely gotten a proper look at Irena.

Even on the wedding day, Clodel had overheard clearly.

Even all dressed up, she doesn't shine.

If Lady Irena had worn it, our eyes would've been blinded.

Jewels shine because they're polished. The young miss isn't a jewel—she's just a pebble.

The castle servants whispering that.

If Hanna had heard, her fist would've flown, but luckily, she'd been too busy attending the wedding to notice.

“Is it really just because of her beauty?”

Hanna crossed her arms and straightened her shoulders.

“We'll see soon enough. How the lord reacts.”

Clodel had always shared everything with Hanna.

She assumed it was the same for Hanna.

They were bound by sharing life's most painful memory.

Enduring the same agony on the same day, recovering from the aftermath together.

The wound in their hearts was like an incurable disease, slow to heal.

The slightest trigger could revive the sorrow as if freshly gouged.

Others couldn't understand, but Clodel and Hanna understood each other. Only they could share that story, that memory—the reminiscence untouched by raging flames.

Yet, after contracting Herzol and entering this marriage, secrets she couldn't confide in Hanna had arisen for the first time.

Hanna, I'm sorry I can't be honest with you.

Clodel had sensed from the start who the next duchess would be after her death.

Irena of House Vermonte.

Her beautiful stepsister would take that position.

The royal decree had ordered a daughter of House Vermonte to become the Duchess of House Temneth.

It hadn't specified Clodel.

Duke Vermonte, furious at Kaiyan preparing for territorial war, had used the soon-to-die Clodel as bait.

But there were inconsistencies in that plan.

Valmond was gripped by drought; its people couldn't wage war.

If Clodel died as the duke claimed, could House Vermonte truly attack House Temneth on that basis? No.

Troops and war preparations don't spring up like a fountain.

So Clodel understood she had to go to House Temneth to gauge how cruelly the lord would treat her.

If he was utterly vile, they'd hire mercenaries from Sol Continent without compromise to crush House Temneth.

But if he didn't treat her harshly just because she was Vermonte until she died of Herzol, they could send Irena next.

That would fulfill the royal command.

The first daughter sent had met an unfortunate end, failing the king's will as vassals, so they'd send another to obey.

Moreover, Irena's situation was ambiguous now.

Daughters of House Vermonte didn't debut in the kingdom's social circles.

Upon reaching age, they held a grand debutante ball in the north to celebrate adulthood.

Clodel's own northern debutante had been skipped.

Because Duke Vermonte had shoehorned the eleven-year-old Clodel into fourteen-year-old Irena's ball.

That night, the duke entered holding the beautifully adorned Irena's hand as they descended the stairs.

Men below gazed up, enraptured by the girl on the cusp of womanhood, cheering wildly.

Following were the duchess and Clodel—a scrawny kid too young for womanly growth drew no eyes.

Setting that aside, Irena, undebuted in royal society, was now the second daughter-in-law of a marquis house, widowed without title.

Yet in Valmond, no one objected to calling her 'lady' as before, though finding a new groom would differ.

But after Clodel died, Kaiyan would be a widower too.

Irena, peer noblewoman who'd lost her husband, and Kaiyan, who'd lost his wife.

Plus, it tidied up the king's decree—perfect match all around.

She'd prepared her heart for those events, things she could've endured before dying to aid the territory multiple times.

But they wouldn't happen now.

Never expecting to survive, Clodel now had to think deeply about her future life.

Yet the thought's conclusion was: if his marriage partner had been Irena, Kaiyan wouldn't have ignored her on the wedding day as he had Clodel.

Irena would've been a truly beautiful bride.

Her father was Duke Vermonte, after all.

It might be unfounded, but news of Irena planning to visit Rowen right after hearing Clodel had recovered from Herzol and gotten along with her husband didn't sit well.

No, the problem was entirely Clodel herself.

I never thought I'd come to like Kaiyan.

No one to blame.

Unaware of Clodel's inner turmoil, Hanna's face still held traces of laughter.

“Hm. Want to make a bet then?”

“What kind?”

“Whether the lord falls for Lady Irena or not. You think he will when he sees her. I don't.”

“Mm.”

It was a bet where losing was better. Clodel nodded.

“Fine. What do we wager?”

“Grant a wish.”

“Deal.”

From that night, Clodel prayed every day to lose to Hanna's wish.

A single telegram arrived out of the blue.

Oberon Kingdom telegrams were sent at night via blinking lights spelling out messages.

Communication stations webbed like spider silk across major cities buzzed through the night, words racing on light across the realm.

Among them, envelopes stamped with a large golden seal marked royal decrees.

With autumn festival approaching but no winter in Rowen, it was peak season sowing fall barley for double crops.

Kaiyan, riding across vast fields urging workers, returned to his office and snatched the letter from the capital atop his desk before even sitting.

Unsealing it, he unwittingly frowned.

The previous telegram had been the royal order to marry into House Vermonte.

What utter nonsense, written at such exhaustive length.

He was glad for the marriage now, but it had scarred him with telegram trauma.

Telegrams charged by the letter, so brevity was custom, yet Valquiter—prince or king—wrote extravagantly.

But today's message was uncharacteristically short and curt.

Kaiyan's brow furrowed instantly.

“......Is he in his right mind?”