Chapter 7:
“Clarissa, when I say not to interfere with my work, that also means don’t meddle. Understand?”
Even after I had helped him solve a problem, Damon still treated me like a pesky fly.
You, as a husband… really!
“Maybe I should go pick some grass… Four leaves.”
I sighed and walked to the doorway. It was then that he spoke.
“How about cooperation instead of interference?”
Damon said it casually.
“Huh? What do you mean?”
“I mean don’t go digging into my business just to get attention. Speak only when I want your opinion. Got it?”
He didn’t like me meddling, but it seemed he approved—just a tiny bit—of my idea about preserved foods. At least that much recognition for me.
“I will. It would be nice if you wanted to hear my opinions more often. And… I have a favor to ask.”
“No.”
Damon didn’t even listen to my request. He just raised a finger toward the door.
I pretended to wilt under his dismissal.
“I only wanted to be spoiled and ask for a trivial thing…”
I let tears well up as I got into character as the unloved wife.
‘It’s fine. I can try again tomorrow. Eventually, I’ll get what I want.’
Gathering all the positive energy I could muster, I headed out of the trade office—only for Damon’s voice to follow me.
“Wait.”
Just as I was about to step out, Damon approached.
“If your favor is that trivial of an item—”
With a generous expression, he seemed to prompt me to speak.
“I want a magic doll.”
“You don’t need to ask me for that, do you?”
It made no sense that I, the mistress of the Middletown mansion, couldn’t buy a single doll.
And now, after solving the salt problem that had become such a headache, all I asked was for a doll—and Damon looked suspicious.
“I want my own magic doll. One that’s the only one in the world.”
“Hah… you mean one that resembles me?”
Why on earth would I need such a doll? To beat up an innocent magic doll all night? It would just make dust fly. Tch.
Still, I left him to misunderstand and smiled brightly.
“Is that not possible?”
“Of course it is. That’s nothing at all.”
“Then take me to the doll workshop. I want to meet the designer and explain my request myself.”
“You want to go all the way there?”
Damon’s eyes, previously soft, darkened.
That place was probably secret too. Of course—if it’s a magic doll workshop, there must be magic stones there.
Judging by my guess, it couldn’t be far from the magic stone mine.
Transporting stones that generate various magical effects is no easy task.
So in essence, I was now asking him the location of the magic stone mine.
“Damon, please don’t say no. Our wedding anniversary is almost here too.”
“Are you sure it’s really a magic doll you want?”
Suddenly, Damon reached out. His fingers touched my chin to read my mind.
My head lifted and our eyes met.
Damon’s golden eyes, like molten gold, stared intently into mine.
I focused, refusing to let him see my true intentions, and brainwashed myself into loving him.
‘I love him. I love Damon to death. I could even die for him… no, scratch the dying part.’
In that instant, all the moments when Clarissa had loved Damon flashed through my mind like a panorama.
The memory of him sliding the ring onto her hand at the wedding with a slightly stiff expression, the thrill of entering the Middletown mansion after the ceremony, walking side by side through the estate, the brilliance in his eyes, the wind brushing his hair, the warm afternoon sun.
Those memories made my heart ache and my eyes burn.
His hand on my chin, his deep gaze, the warmth of his breath on my face—these began to captivate me.
My eyelashes trembled, my breath quickened, and my chest heaved—so Damon stepped back abruptly.
He ran his hand through his hair in an awkward pose, scowling in annoyance.
“You mean nothing to me… so why do you…”
Damon shook his head, clearly impatient.
If I were truly Clarissa, I would have said this:
Why do I love you? Unlike other ladies attending tea parties and social gatherings, I had to help with the Duke’s estate work. No matter how hard I worked, I got slapped by Eileen instead of praised. But every time you saw me, you said, ‘Good work.’
Every morning, I ran to the estate hoping to meet you even by chance. Then one day, Frederick, Duke Rackton’s eldest, harassed me. If you hadn’t married me, I’d have ended up as Frederick’s mistress and still trapped in the estate.
You are my savior. I live with gratitude for you every day. You don’t need to love me; just being by your side is enough.
I didn’t speak these words aloud, but surely he could sense them.
“If what you want so badly is just a magic doll…”
Bitterly smiling, Damon turned his gaze to Millan, standing in the doorway.
“Millan. Take milady to the magic doll workshop.”
“Yes, master.”
True to his loyalty, Millan immediately led me to the village where the magic dolls were made.
As I expected, it was a remote village near the secret trade office in the forest.
“Ouch, my butt.”
I limped along, following Millan.
The villagers, who usually survived by gathering herbs and mushrooms, were now focused entirely on making magic dolls for Damon.
Deeper into the village, a new building caught my eye.
“This is the designer’s house. He was originally a painter and sculptor, but the master had this house built and commissioned him to design the dolls.”
“I see. Millan? Can I meet the designer alone? I’m embarrassed to explain exactly what I want.”
“Understood, milady.”
Millan opened the door and stepped back.
Inside, several sketches hung on the walls. An elderly man with graying hair was absorbed in drawing.
He was so focused he didn’t even notice me.
I glanced at the sketches, raising one eye.
Among the doll sketches, there were designs for magic swords.
‘Just as I thought!’
Damon made magic dolls for business, but in reality, he focused more on magic swords.
To defeat Duke Rackton’s aura-wielding children and elite knights, he needed magical power.
Thus, Damon planned to form a magical knight corps.
And supporting him was Crown Prince Valentin.
Valentin, a strategist who defeated five other princes to become heir, was physically weak and behind in swordsmanship.
Perhaps that was why he became Crown Prince.
‘Duke Rackton probably thought he could control Valentin because he couldn’t wield a sword.’
Rackton’s dream was to control the empire. He eliminated rivals to place Valentin, a weak body, as Crown Prince.
After Valentin became Crown Prince, Rackton betrothed his only daughter, Eileen, to him.
When Valentin became emperor, Rackton believed he could manipulate the empire through her.
But Valentin wasn’t foolish.
He planned to use Rackton as needed, break off the engagement with Eileen, and become a strong ruler.
The problem was that the plan didn’t go smoothly.
Valentin suffered hallucinations and lost his sanity.
And the cause was this magic sword.
I pulled a sketch of the dagger from the wall. It was designed as a small dagger, easy to carry. I approached the elderly designer.
“Ah! Sorry to disturb you, I am Clarissa, Baron Craig’s wife. I came to encourage you since you are working on my husband’s request.”
“Oh my, what an honor for you to come here! Would you like some tea?”
“No, I won’t stay long to avoid interrupting.”
I presented the dagger sketch.
“When did you finish this design?”
“Three days ago.”
“Then production must have started.”
“The Baron said it was urgent. But it’s a special sword, so the forging method takes longer. The Baron will likely receive it next week.”
Once complete, Damon would give it to Valentin, hoping he could protect himself—even with magic—though not in swordsmanship.
But Valentin couldn’t handle it.
Each time the sword emitted magic, it produced a voice—the voice of the first prince who had been killed in succession disputes.
Valentin would be consumed with guilt and even fall ill.
‘I can handle the magic sword.’
I knew its dangerous nature from the original story, so I could control it.
“Actually, my husband told me to check the progress of this sword. I want to see it myself. Could you show me?”
I continued, pulling gold coins from a silk pouch.
“Also, I want a magic doll with slightly different proportions, especially a different face. Is that possible?”
I planned to give Valentin a doll resembling himself as a betrothal gift.
‘There may be portraits, but no doll like him.’
More than winning his favor, my goal was the timing of the gift.
The moment Damon offered the magic sword, I’d appear with Valentin’s doll.
The thought made me tense and excited.
“Where should we start? I want to see where the sword is being made first.”
In front of the Xian trade warehouse, the royal carriage stopped.
“Baron Craig, is it true you used all the salt?”
Valentin got out, disbelief written on his face.
“A few barrels remain, but they’ll be used for pickling cucumbers soon.”
“Pickling cucumbers? Who eats that?”
Royal chefs boiled or stir-fried all vegetables to avoid food poisoning. Raw cucumbers seemed strange to Valentin.
“With molasses enzymes and vinegar, it becomes a delicious ingredient,” Damon explained.
Valentin tilted his head.
“The Baron knows so much about cooking?”
“……”
“It seems like the Baroness’s idea, doesn’t it?”
