Chapter 30
Even though Diab squinted her eyes and spoke in words close to a threat, Damon remained completely unfazed. Right now, he didn’t have the mental bandwidth for anything else—Clarissa had just told him that if he didn’t grant her a divorce within three days, she would leave far away.
“Help me out, Diab. How do I win a woman’s heart? You’re a genius at getting what people want, after all.”
“Damon! Didn’t you hear? I just got new information about Duke Racton!”
“That’s nothing. Tch!”
Damon was a reincarnator. Having lived through this once already, he had an abundance of knowledge about Duke Racton and could recall everything effortlessly.
“That’s nothing? Are you seriously planning not to take revenge?”
“Of course I will. But first, I need to calm Clarissa down. Tell me what I need to do to win my wife’s heart—quickly.”
“…After being struck by a poisoned arrow, you’re not thinking straight! Duke Racton has been capturing only men with black hair from the North for his experiments!”
In the past, Damon would have trembled at Diab’s words, gathered his subordinates, and rescued those enslaved—but such actions were too risky now.
Once the magical tome’s seal is broken and it proves ineffective, I can buy them and free them. Until then, rushing in would only raise Racton’s suspicions.
If he acted now, it would leave traces, and then Racton would have to be eliminated in haste. Damon couldn’t repeat the mistakes of his previous life. For Clarissa’s safety, he had to wait for the right moment.
“I’ll handle that matter myself. Don’t worry about it. Just answer my questions, Diab—I only have three days.”
“Seems like your feelings for the baroness are genuine.”
“Have you been blind all this time?” Damon growled, making Diab wave her hands helplessly.
“I just can’t believe it. Alright, calm down… hmm. First, it seems the baroness is angry, so you need to soothe her anger.”
“She’s furious beyond words. Diab, you made her worse, pretending like you had some sort of affair with me. You’ll have to take responsibility for that too.”
“Me? Why should I get involved in someone else’s marital issues? Fine, fine. Just grovel in front of the angry woman… take your time, slowly…”
“There’s no time!”
“Really? Then maybe start with a gift to win her favor first…”
“I gave the necklace I bought her to a servant.”
Damon had heard through Milron that the necklace had been sold by a fence. It had upset him at the time, but now he regretted even more not making any effort for Clarissa’s heart—to the point that she had grown so cold.
I should have done better from the start. I shouldn’t have hurt her, left her lonely, should have held her warmly…
A deep sigh escaped Damon in regret.
She must have been really hurt by my negligence. Then I’ll do something I usually wouldn’t—like sharing a drink and opening my heart with her.
“A drink?”
“It’s about the mood. Romantic ambiance. Approach her with feelings, not reason. And kiss her. You know how to kiss, right?”
“Do you think I’m an idiot? Who can’t kiss and cuddle?”
Damon’s face flushed bright red, and he spun around. Just imagining kissing Clarissa felt like committing a crime, his heart racing uncontrollably.
“What’s this about a kiss? Hohoho. Damon! Why are you shocking people in every possible way today? Where are you going! Damon!”
Hearing Diab’s teasing from behind, Damon hurried inside the mansion, embarrassed and fidgety. He had never gone beyond subtle flirting before, only making her look at him in a way that tempted her. Now, having to kiss her made him fear messing up, and he worried it might only deepen Clarissa’s resentment. This was serious.
“Why does my ear itch so much?”
Leaving the office of the guild representative who specialized in jewelry, I scratched my irritated ear.
“Someone must be talking about me.”
“What’s that? Offering a generous deal?”
Outside, Hoan and Miranda jumped up from their chairs.
“They think I came to extract information. Since I’m Damon Craig’s wife, they won’t even try bargaining with me.”
“You should have told them I’m getting a divorce.”
Hoan, now completely my subordinate, stomped her foot in frustration.
“Then they’ll assume it’s because of money. Looks like I’ll have to go to Carrion Village.”
To sell gold and magic stones obtained from the wasteland’s streams at a proper price, going to the dwarf village on the outskirts—Carrion—was the only way.
“Alright, I’ll get the gift for the village chief quickly.”
“The chief’s gift?”
“Yes. Since I’m going there anyway, it’s better to win his favor while I’m at it.”
“Perfect! Good idea deserves a reward!”
I handed Hoan two gold coins.
“T-Thank you, milady.”
“Let’s keep giving good ideas to build the Clarissa Guild.”
“The Clarissa Guild?”
“I want to be richer than Damon and live in style, so people will see that the divorce was worth it.”
I didn’t want to hear that I’d live in seclusion after being abandoned by Damon.
“Wonderful! Then I’ll get the gift the Carrion chief likes and head to the carriage. Please wait a moment.”
“Miranda, follow Hoan and get some drinks too. We’re thirsty.”
“Yes, milady.”
Watching them run toward the market, I fanned my face to cool it. The heat today was unusually intense.
Lowering my hat against the blazing sun, I slowly walked toward where the carriage awaited.
Then, something suddenly dropped from the sky.
Startled, I stepped back, and my hat fell, letting my hair spill over my shoulders.
A masked man had jumped down from the roof and blocked my path. The glint in his eyes instantly gave him away.
“Lord Frederick?”
“Good to see you, Clarissa.”
The moment Frederick wrapped his arms around my waist, a magical sword shot from my hand.
“Ugh!”
The sword pierced Frederick’s abdomen.
“Uh, sorry! It’s not what you think—”
“Ugh!”
Again, the sword stabbed at the same spot. Frederick, unable to defend himself, pushed me away and stumbled back.
“Clarissa, what an interesting toy you have.”
“This… is fun?”
Seeing Frederick smirk through his blood made me shudder in horror.
“Anything we play is fun.”
“…I think it’s terrible.”
Before our marriage, recalling Frederick’s obsession made me shake my head in disgust.
Frederick was the eldest son of Duke Racton by his first wife. His mother had died after giving birth to the twins Croter and Ingis. The Duke remarried immediately, having two more sons, leaving Frederick, Croter, and Ingis neglected.
When the second duchess died, the third duchess, Aileen’s mother, arrived. Frederick finally realized the second duchess had been the only decent stepmother.
Aileen’s mother was cruel and wicked. When Duke Racton was away, she locked the young sons in the dungeon and starved them. Before being caught and returning to her family, Frederick and his brothers had endured all manner of abuse.
Perhaps his twisted childhood abuse is what made Frederick a monster.
Frederick expressed his attention by relentlessly tormenting Clarissa from girlhood to womanhood. He had Croter and Ingis tie her up helplessly and reveled in her tears.
“Tell me to let you go. Only I can save you, Clarissa.”
He acted as though all women were evil, punishing Clarissa to exact revenge. He smashed her teacup, pushed her while she ran errands for Aileen, and mocked her injuries.
“If you want treatment, beg me, Clarissa. I’m your master.”
When Clarissa declared she would marry Damon, Frederick seemed to finally snap, realizing she was leaving the ducal mansion.
“Lord Frederick, you need medical attention! You’re bleeding badly.”
“You’re worried about me? Then I don’t mind being stabbed again.”
The sword swung wildly in my hand, threatening Frederick. If he got annoyed and drew his own weapon, I’d be doomed.
Sword, aim for the right target, please!
I grabbed the wrist of the hand holding the sword.
“Stop. Just being stabbed is enough to damage your reputation, Lord Frederick.”
“Worried about me?”
“How can I not be? You serve my father, and my husband owes his loyalty to Duke Racton. I can’t bring harm to the Duke or the young duke!”
“If you want, I don’t mind stabbing you more—just come back, Clarissa.”
With a firm grip, Frederick brought my wrist close to his face. His lips were dangerously near.
Hiss!
The sword bent and slashed the back of Frederick’s hand. Blood splattered before my eyes, and I panicked.
“Oops! Sorry.”
“…Was that the sword?”
“Seems like it. Now, stop threatening me and hurry…”
Frederick leapt over behind me, twisting my wrist backward. His breath brushed my ear, and my back pressed against his chest.
This persistent idiot! Sword, deal with him!
Whoosh! The magical sword stretched and whipped like a lash, striking Frederick.
“Ahhh!”
With my arm twisted behind me, I screamed in pain. The sword flailed, my shoulder nearly dislocated.
“Ow!”
Then—bang!—a wall of the building crumbled, white dust rising.
An earthquake? Or an explosion?
Turning, I saw a hole in the wall and Frederick unconscious beneath the rubble.
And in front of me, the man who had thrown Frederick stood, panting.
Red hair tangled, clothes ragged, he glanced up.
“Ian?”
The protagonist from the original story. Ian, the seventh son of the ducal family and Clarissa’s childhood friend destined to become a paladin.
