Chapter 43
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 43
Chapter Title: Declaration of the Principal Wife
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"I'm curious. A dream where I experience failure... And it doesn't feel like a lie at all."
Demian kept muttering cryptic words, like a boy unraveling a riddle.
After leaning against the window and staring at the moonlight for a long while, he slowly turned his head.
His gaze fell on Garneon, still pressing his forehead to the floor.
"Garneon. Do you believe prophetic dreams... or foresight powers actually exist?"
"...."
Caught off guard by the sudden question, Garneon fell silent for a moment.
A brief stillness flowed, as if gauging the crown prince's intentions.
Soon, he cautiously opened his mouth.
"Aren't those just fabricated terms favored by the gods who seek to topple monarchs? I believe they're merely tools to deceive the public."
"Hmm? Is that so...."
It was an utterly pragmatic, warrior-like response.
Demian gave a slight smile and nodded at the words.
"Right? That's what I thought too. But...."
Thud. Thud.
Demian began to slowly move his feet.
The soft footsteps on the carpet approached, tightening around Garneon's heart like a vise.
"......"
"Once you've seen a soul pushed out and replaced right before your eyes, you start thinking it's not impossible, you know?"
"... Pardon?"
Before Garneon could voice his confusion, Demian was already standing right in front of him.
Shing.
Demian smoothly drew the dagger from Garneon's belt.
The razor-sharp blade gleamed under the moonlight.
He stroked the keen edge with his finger and whispered lowly.
"Looks like my future self went and failed. Lost everything after losing to Noxion von Kaltstein."
"......!"
At those words, Garneon jerked his head up in shock.
He committed the grave offense of staring directly at the crown prince's face, but this wasn't the time for propriety.
Defeat.
Demian de Loen, of all people, defeated.
Yet the crown prince's face reflected in Garneon's eyes showed no trace of defeat or fear.
Instead, it brimmed with anticipation and excitement, like an audience discovering a thrilling twist in a dull play.
Demian locked eyes with the dazedly staring Garneon and spoke as if affirming it to himself.
"No need to follow the path that already led to failure, right? Whoever it is, they're cheekily helping me out."
He tossed the dagger in front of Garneon and waved his hand dismissively.
"Get out. Oh, and."
As he headed back to bed, he added as if something had just occurred to him.
"If possible, don't kill off the guild remnants. Recruit as many as you can into the Black Wing Corps."
"I... shall obey."
Once Garneon withdrew and the room was empty again.
Demian slipped back under the rumpled covers.
A strange smile lingered on his lips, as if anticipating the defeat awaiting him in his dreams—and the victory he'd twist from reality.
"I'm so looking forward to the birthday celebration for our cute little youngest."
A week or so had passed since that night of chaos.
The main change was that the castle's defenses, which had grown lax relying on the Kaltstein name, were now significantly bolstered.
Originally, aside from a few formal knights from the orders who volunteered for dawn guard shifts—relatable for any overworked office drone in Korea?—most patrols had been minimal, using squires or paid extras.
But after getting hit hard once, they had to wise up before it happened again.
'Well... Even I'm already thinking about cutting back manpower since it's been quiet for a week. I'm impressive like that.'
With such thoughts, I gazed at Seria sipping tea across from me.
Afternoon sunlight poured through the window, softly enveloping her silver hair.
Today, with some rare free time, we'd been spending the morning in the office pretending to work—just the two of us on a date.
Clink.
The clear sound of her teacup being set down rang out in the quiet office.
A scene of utter peace, making that blood-soaked night a week ago feel like a lie.
"How's Lady Leonier? She seems to be recovering well?"
Seria nodded at my question.
"Yes. Whether due to her exceptional vitality or Her Highness's magic, she bounced back quickly. Yesterday, she even took a light stroll in the garden."
"That's a relief. Probably thanks to all the care you've been giving her."
"What have I done? I just helped out a bit since you... no, Master Noxion seemed so worried."
Seria smiled humbly, brushing it off as no big deal, but I knew she'd been visiting the annex daily to check on Leonier.
I set down my pen, propped my chin, and gazed at her intently.
"By the way, you three seem to be meeting up a lot lately. Having private tea times with the princess and the lady?"
"Ah... Yes. Both of them treat me so comfortably. Especially Her Highness... well, she's just so informal."
Seria trailed off with a troubled yet pleased expression.
It was heartening to see her mingling past class barriers, though I couldn't help wondering what they talked about without me.
'Should I ask? A little push and she'll probably spill.'
I slyly reached across the table.
And gently covered the back of Seria's white hand as she toyed with her teacup.
"......!"
At the sudden touch, Seria's shoulders twitched.
She looked at me with startled eyes but didn't pull away.
Warmth—and her quickening pulse—flowed through our touching palms.
That subtle tremble was so endearing; I threaded my fingers between hers, interlocking them.
"N-Noxion... During work hours...."
"No one's watching anyway. Just slacking off a bit."
I grinned playfully and stroked the back of her hand with my thumb.
Seria's face flushed a soft pink.
Watching her shy reaction, my curiosity shifted from their chats to something from a week ago in the sickroom.
It had been like this then too.
Her face beet red—more than now—and she'd fled in a hurry.
I squeezed her hand a little firmer and voiced the question I'd been holding back.
"More importantly, I've been wondering about something."
"Yes? What...."
"That day in the sickroom. What did Princess Roselia whisper that made you leave so obediently? No, obedient doesn't cover it—your face was red like a fruit about to burst."
"......!"
At my question, Seria's eyes shook as if struck by an earthquake.
Her face, pale pink just moments ago, instantly burned redder than a ripe tomato.
"Th-That was...!"
"Did the princess say something weird? What on earth did she tell you?"
"N-No, it's... Um, that...."
Seria stammered, head bowed, lips twitching, unable to pull her hand free.
Adorable.
So incredibly adorable.
The usually composed and capable head maid, reduced to this flustered state.
Half teasing, half genuine curiosity, I stared at her expectantly.
After fumbling with her lips for a long moment, Seria squeezed her eyes shut as if resolving herself, then slowly spoke.
"It... It was really nothing. Just... Her Highness...."
"Yes, Her Highness?"
"Sh-She just... Since I seemed so anxious, she said no matter how much the lady or she fusses around you... your top priority in your heart is me...."
"... What?"
For a second, I wondered if I'd misheard and lightly scratched my ear before looking at her face again.
"What did you just say? Principal wife...?"
At my echo, Seria—now flushed from ears to nape—mumbled in a tiny voice.
"I mean... No matter how the lady or Her Highness stays by your side... Ultima-Ultimately, I'm number one in Noxion's heart, so don't worry...."
"......"
"No matter how things turn out, the principal wife spot is set, so don't get anxious and just relax... Th-That's what she said!"
"Ah, wait."
Once the words were out, Seria seemed to belatedly realize how embarrassing they were.
She cupped her bursting-red face with both hands.
"Eek! A-Anyway, I told you! Don't ask anymore, please!"
"Hold on, Seria. Principal wife—what does that...."
"I don't know! This is all your fault anyway, Your Grace! If you'd clearly kept distance from those two ladies, I wouldn't be like this! I-I'm leaving! Do your work!"
Tat-tat!
Before I could grab her, Seria bolted out, slamming the office door open.
Bang!
My outstretched hand toward the closed door hung in empty air.
"Hah...."
My hollow laugh echoed as the only sound in the now-silent office.
I stared blankly at the door before slowly withdrawing my hand and propping my chin.
'This is... Who am I to deserve this.'
In my previous life, I'd taken in the lady regardless of Seria's feelings, and now with this terminal life and tangled curse.
What virtue had I accumulated to have such a loving, far-too-good woman stay by my side?
'Principal wife....'
Rolling the words in my mouth brought a strange tickle rising from my chest.
I absentmindedly pressed the back of my hand to my cheek.
It was hot.
"......"
Man, the dignity of a northern duke is no joke.
I tried to act nonchalant, cooling my heated cheek as I picked up the pen again.
But the smile tugging at my lips wouldn't fade easily.
'Alright, back to work.'
It was that kind of afternoon, where I had to be careful not to smudge the ink on the documents.