~CMWDD 01~
Chapter 1
“Ugh!”
Her husband, wearing a white Bauta mask, let out a groan of pain.
It was a kind of rampage. His eyes had turned bloodshot, his back writhed, quivering as if something were about to burst out of him.
The one who discovered her husband in this state was Olentia, who shared the same bed.
Olentia quickly tossed aside the cumbersome blankets and grabbed his hand.
Contact.
She wanted to transmit her sacred power through touch, to ease his suffering.
But mere contact wasn’t enough. He let out a growl-like sound, like a beast, as if warning that it wouldn’t be enough.
“This isn’t enough. Right now, right now!”
Her husband’s breath was on the verge of giving out. She could feel his urgency, his desperate need.
Olentia knew exactly what was required.
She ripped off the mask he was wearing and lunged at his lips, thinking that the most vulnerable skin-to-skin contact—lip to lip—would surely stop the rampage.
The moment their lips touched, her husband’s intense breath flowed into Olentia. It carried every bit of sorrow and regret. Surely he did not want to go berserk like this.
Before long, he whispered through the kiss, desperate:
“You are the only one for me.”
A deep kiss followed. Their heads tilted, mixing sweet and bitter emotions.
He bit her lips, frantically exploring, yearning for something, over and over. Olentia felt her mind go hazy.
Then, suddenly:
“Miss Olentia!”
A very familiar voice pierced her thoughts—clear, high-pitched, commanding. Her personal maid, Bobby.
In an instant, she came to her senses. Opening her eyes, she saw the white canopy swaying above her.
“Ah… it was a dream? I should’ve known.”
There was no way such a sorrowful, beautiful man could exist in the real world. In her dream, when she removed his mask, he was strikingly handsome. Coupled with the fact that she possessed sacred power and was married to a rampaging husband, it was an absurdly imaginative dream. Truly, just a silly dream.
“Sleeping in late, Miss Olentia? Don’t you know what day it is?”
At Bobby’s question, Olentia immediately sat up, clearing her head.
“I’ve never forgotten today. I really think Sokor needs to return the inheritance now.”
“You’ve already been an adult for three years, so naturally, it should be returned to you.”
“Exactly. Surely he doesn’t want to give it back, planning to give it along with a dowry if I marry. But I have no intention of marrying just yet.”
“Yes, of course. I know best how many suitors you send away every day.”
Olentia was well-known for being highly sought after by men of marriageable age, yet she was famous for rejecting those who came to propose.
She plunged her hands into the wash basin Bobby had prepared and said sharply:
“There’s no suitable man. I don’t want to marry for money or political reasons. I just wish Sokor would come to his senses already.”
After washing her face clean, Olentia, with Bobby’s help, dressed in a gown her late mother, Marissa, had often worn. It was a deep green satin dress, which didn’t quite suit her fresh, twenty-three-year-old self. But as she shared her mother’s figure, it at least avoided looking ridiculous.
Olentia let her honey-golden, luxurious platinum hair fall calmly over her shoulders and gazed at herself in the mirror.
‘My cousin Sokor has been acting as guardian in place of my late parents for quite some time. Now that I’m an adult, I want to be independent. I must do this.’
Sokor’s hesitation to return the inheritance made her deeply suspicious. Even if she wanted to trust him, she could not trust Countess Kikozelia, who was always at his side.
Steeling herself, Olentia headed to the grand meeting hall of the Count’s residence, where the Elder Council was in session. Her steps on the carpet wavered slightly with nervousness. She swallowed dryly.
‘Don’t be nervous. I am the one who continues the legitimate line of the Armeniaca Count family.’
Soldiers stood guard in front of the hall.
“Move aside.”
Her firm words made the soldiers glance at one another in surprise.
“Miss Olentia… this is an important meeting…”
A soldier mustered courage to speak, but Olentia’s eyes narrowed.
“I think it’s wrong that I’m not allowed to be present where the lord and the elders convene. Don’t you agree?”
‘They treat me as if I know nothing. Right?’
Olentia’s voice was clear and commanding, reminiscent of her mother Marissa. Wearing her mother’s respected gown, the soldiers could not defy her.
Eventually, they opened the doors to the hall themselves.
The moment she entered, the voices of Lord Sokor and the elders ceased. Sokor’s eyes, sharp as a flounder’s, fixed on her. He had slicked-back hair with no stray locks, wearing a neat black three-piece suit.
Olentia walked confidently toward her cousin, Sokor, who looked like he wouldn’t bleed even if pricked by a needle.
Tap, tap, tap!
As her velvet shoes reached Sokor, he immediately scolded her.
“What are you doing here in the middle of an important meeting, Olentia?”
Ignoring his rebuke, she spoke firmly:
“I want my inheritance. Are you really going to return it?”
The elders’ eyes widened, trying to process the situation.
Olentia had waited for this moment, hoping that Sokor would be embarrassed in front of the council and come to his senses. She also wanted to show them:
‘I am the true heir of the Armeniaca Count family, brother. You cannot exclude me like this.’
Sokor finally understood why she had intruded and let out a hollow laugh, hand on his waist, head tilted back. Olentia shivered; he looked like a gaping monster for a moment.
“Haha! I said I’d return it if you married. Why make me announce it here?”
“Think carefully. You won’t return the money, so I had to do this. The elders need to know what you are doing with our father’s and mother’s inheritance.”
Sokor’s face changed abruptly. He glanced around, then spoke as if nothing had happened:
“The late Count’s business has been continued faithfully. You know the profits have doubled.”
“But you still won’t say how you used all that money? Why not?”
Indeed, profits had doubled. Their father had recognized Sokor’s business ability and chosen him as successor early on. She was merely curious about how the funds had been handled.
But Sokor never referred to his father as uncle once he became Count—a cold and calculating stance.
Olentia had never imagined her cousin Sokor could be so strict, rational, and even selfish. In the past, he had been kind and gentle. Perhaps he had been acting all these years just to secure the heirship.
The elders, witnessing the heated exchange, turned pale. They could not side with anyone. Olentia represented the symbol of the Armeniaca Counts, while Sokor was the practical head.
After a moment, Sokor rose, grabbed a thick folder from the long table, and said:
“Let’s end the meeting here. A clueless child has ruined it.”
“What do you mean child? I’ve been an adult for three years! Only you treat me like a child!”
Olentia shouted after him as he walked away. Sokor paused in the hallway, turned, and said:
“I’ll return it when you marry a good man. For now, I can’t judge if you can handle that much money.”
An absurd excuse. Olentia was already an adult, capable and responsible.
“You’re always so selfish. You once said it was to protect me. Do you think that’s a good reason?”
Olentia sneered. Sokor likely only spoke of marriage because he knew she would not easily marry.
If marriage was the only way to solve this… what should she do?
Olentia fell into deep thought. She suddenly remembered the absurd dream from that morning. The husband in the dream had been beautiful but uncontrollably rampaging.
Even in her dreams, the situation was problematic.
‘There’s no husband. What marriage?’
No matter how she thought about it, marriage was impossible—for now.
The next morning.
Olentia headed to Shine Street to meet a lawyer, secretly, without Sokor knowing. She didn’t bring a guard, only her personal maid, Bobby. This was the first time she had ventured out so lightly.
“Miss Olentia, isn’t this a bit dangerous?”
Bobby’s worried voice did not sway her. She had endured enough to avoid family conflict, but now she was determined to act.
‘He must think I lacked courage to even appoint a lawyer in the past…’
Sokor had surely believed she was too timid to act.
But Olentia had only been acting in his interest, trusting that if she waited, the inheritance would be returned.
But Sokor was nothing but a hypocrite.
“I can’t hold back any longer.”
