Chapter 46

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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 46
Chapter Title: A Mistake
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A mistake? I blinked.

Was it so awful that he’d call it a mistake before I’d even had a bite?

That couldn’t be it. Don’t tell me…

“Shall I cook for you myself?”

Diello suggested with a gentle smile.

His words confirmed it for me.

There was something wrong with the food.

“Alright.”

As I nodded, I saw it clearly.

The strange glances being exchanged among the maids waiting behind Diello.

“Then, this way.”

Did Diello sense it, too?

He gently stroked the back of my hand and led me away.

His eyes, like pale lakes, shone from behind his long lashes.

“I will escort you myself, my bride.”

He leaned in especially close to me as he guided me.

I could see the maids deliberately averting their gazes from us.

…This must be what Diello was aiming for.

“Alright.”

I followed him, rising to my feet.

My mind was on the bright red blood I had seen when he lifted the napkin to wipe his mouth.

* * *

Diello and I entered the kitchen.

Even in the cooking area, all the chefs had been sent away, leaving just the two of us in the spacious room.

“You know how to cook, too?”

At my question, Diello tilted his head slightly.

“I’m not sure if it will be enough to satisfy you, Croire.”

So he did know how. I smiled lightly.

“I’m not a picky eater.”

Diello’s eyes widened at my words.

“Really?”

His disbelieving expression seemed to say he found that truly surprising.

Seeing his face, I finally remembered a detail from the original story.

That Croire was such a gourmet she had fired the Alloje family’s chefs about eight times before finally picking a personal one.

“……Of course, if it’s something you made, Diello.”

I quickly corrected myself.

There was no one below the third floor to witness our sweet newlywed act, but saying such blush-worthy things still made me fan myself instinctively.

“Your generosity makes me want to try even harder.”

Diello chuckled lightly.

Fortunately, the dish he intended to make wasn't complicated.

Grilled mushrooms, a favorite of Croire’s, and a pasta made with them.

As I watched him cook, I asked, even though I knew he was trying to be discreet.

“It was poison, wasn’t it?”

The reason we left the table. The reason he was cooking for me himself.

At my words, Diello’s hand, holding the pan, paused for a moment.

“A bride like you is more than I deserve.”

“Pardon?”

His voice was so soft I could barely hear it.

It was also a low voice, enough to make my heart flutter for a moment.

No, there was no need to fight the feeling.

They say to deceive others, you must first deceive yourself.

I was trying my best to regain my composure.

“I think there was poison in the ingredients.”

—*Fwoosh!*

A white, magical flame shot from his fingertips, sweeping over the food.

Ah, that was an ability mentioned in the original novel.

“It’s the Flame of Purification.”

Diello stated briefly.

He flicked a white flame on his fingertip as he spoke.

“It’s used to neutralize poison. It’s why the heads of House Argenta have been assassinated by poison far less often than those of other families…”

He narrowed his eyes.

“Fortunately, it seems our enemy was unaware of that fact.”

—*Clink.*

A plate was set before me.

The food, golden-brown and steaming, certainly looked appetizing.

Judging by his plating skills, it seemed he had practiced cooking more than once or twice.

“Do you cook often?”

“Even if I can neutralize poison.”

Diello smiled, his face contorted as if in pain.

“I couldn’t always do it.”

True, he couldn't exactly inspect every meal with a magical flame in front of everyone.

Not only would it create a tense atmosphere in the Argenta estate, but rumors would paint him as a suspicious man, not a gentle one.

“Is it overcooked?”

Diello tapped the pasta dish.

As if asking if I didn’t like it.

I twirled some pasta onto my fork.

“It’s perfect.”

Overcooked pasta is no good.

I may not be as much of a gourmet as the original Croire, but I was particular about things like this.

“I’m glad.”

Diello, sitting across from me, placed an identical plate of pasta in front of himself.

As if we could finally have a proper meal.

…But was it really okay, if there had been poison?

Even if he used the Flame of Purification…

As if reading my concern, Diello took the first bite of pasta.

“It’s fine now, Croire.”

“Are you alright?”

But this pasta wasn’t the only problem.

I was certain I had seen blood when Diello wiped his mouth with the napkin earlier.

“You ingested it, the poison.”

Diello smiled brightly at my words.

“My sweet bride.”

Just as I was thinking his voice sounded like a song, he continued.

“An Argenta who can wield the Flame of Purification wouldn't be seriously affected by a little poison.”

That was true, but. Then why was he bleeding?

I found myself studying his face closely.

I saw Diello blink his lake-like eyes and then smile.

“I’m really fine. I’ll tell you right away if anything feels wrong.”

He then leaned his face slightly toward me.

“Now that our contract has begun, my body is not mine alone.”

“That’s…”

He wasn’t wrong.

Whether he knew he had a knack for making ordinary words sound sensual or not, Diello raised his fork.

As if telling me to hurry up and eat.

…This really feels like we're newlyweds.

I scratched my cheek as I watched him.

* * *

That night, some of the Argenta household staff were replaced.

Not just the head chef and the kitchen assistants, but all those who had procured the ingredients.

—*Thud.*

From the dark dining hall, Rick, the head of intelligence, walked out with a bright smile.

He wiped the blood that had splattered on his face with a white napkin, then incinerated it with a flame.

* * *

“The intelligence division is tracking the mastermind.”

Diello said the next morning.

He explained that the problem with the meal had occurred because an enemy had infiltrated the ranks of the food suppliers.

“Be careful, Croire.”

The culprit had been identified, but the one behind it all was still unknown.

It was bound to be either the Allojes or the Cartiels.

“It would be best for you to always be accompanied by the fourth-floor knights, or by me.”

Until the mastermind was caught.

Diello wore a worried expression.

The morning sun shone brightly.

As light streamed through the thick blackout curtains, his face seemed to glitter.

His eyes, gently stroking my hair as I lay in bed, held a slight tremor.

“Even if you find it stifling.”

As he spoke, Diello idly twisted a strand of my hair around his fingertip.

Then he pulled the blanket up to my shoulders.

“…”

I’d never placed much meaning on the fact that we slept under the same blanket.

No, I had resolved not to.

But the fact that I could feel his warmth struck me in a strange way, and I could only stare at him silently.

“Croire?”

I only snapped out of it when Diello called my name again.

“…I understand.”

There was no reason to feel stifled.

I was always with either the fourth-floor staff or Diello anyway.

And Diello’s worries proved to be well-founded.

This time, it happened during the day, as I was getting into a dress for an outing.

“This is the dress for your outing today.”

The dress had definitely come by way of the fourth-floor maids.

But when I opened the box, I caught a peculiar scent from the dress.

To be precise, it was a peculiar magic.

“…?”

It was an instinctual feeling.

“Should I turn around, or…”

Diello glanced back at me.

It was both surprising and new to see his slightly playful expression.

“Shall I help you myself?”

…Diello was going to help me dress?

—*Scurry, scurry.*

At his words, I saw the surrounding maids all retreat at once.

Hey, you don’t have to be so obvious about it