The Tragic Male Lead Chose the Wrong Partner

“Figures.”
Helene let out a hollow laugh as she stared at the photo.

Buying gifts in bulk, chasing after volunteer work, spiriting Anna away—things she never used to do.
“Anna? Who’s that?”
She had assumed it was deception when Cynthia feigned not even remembering Anna’s name during a prior mention.

But now, it seemed Anna genuinely meant nothing to her.
If Cynthia had used the Duke to hide Anna and get rid of her, then all the puzzle pieces fit.
Helene pressed her slightly loosened lips together with renewed firmness.

‘Whether it’s revenge for the scandal, or she’s aiming for the duchess title—I don’t know.’
A mere maid daring to not know her place and now trying to take her position.
‘Did the Duke go along with it even knowing Cynthia was a maid?’

Helene’s pride twisted her lips bitterly.
She burned with the desire to repay this humiliation and disgrace somehow.
“If we find the gold mine in Dias, we won’t need to be tied down by the Duke’s power anymore. I’ll help you.”

She recalled Capitano’s words.
Though she was struggling due to debts to the organization, she believed Capitano’s continued assistance was unrelated.
“Yes, if it’s proven that Dias—not Nox—is the real thing.”

She firmly believed that whoever discovered a valuable legacy would be the rightful heir to the throne.
Once she gained independence, she planned to expose everything—Cynthia’s identity, the Duke’s filthy affairs—with brutal satisfaction.
“Eternal snowfields can collapse into avalanches. That’s why we oppose the gold mine project.”

Warnings from Dias’s residents about the risks didn’t reach her ears.
She had already commissioned Capitano to drive them off with pocket change.
Just then, a maid came to inform her of the Duke’s return.
Apparently, the Duke was unaware that she had embezzled the merchant union’s funds to pay for her request. While debating whether to use the photo as leverage, she gave a slight shake of her head.

Given his shameless attitude so far, he’d probably have his servants dispose of it quietly.
“But the Brigadier’s reaction to this photo will be different.”
“They say these days the Brigadier buys flowers and jewels for his wife every day, don’t they?”

So even Masera del Visente now considered Cynthia precious.
* * *
At present, I was embarking on a new operation.

‘I’ve been too soft lately.’
Masera’s bulldozer-like persistence had become increasingly difficult to deal with.
So I did my best to push back. Part of it was revenge—mirroring the curt attitude Masera used to show me.
But not a single one of my attacks worked on that ironclad man.

“I didn’t buy this to eat with you or anything.”
“For that, it is my favorite cake… and there are two forks.”
A formidable opponent—he even used the technique of “hearing only what he wants to hear.”

Truly a master of strategy and tactics.
I would need to equip myself with even sharper sarcasm and colder sneers from now on.
With such resolve, I was now sitting across from Masera in the greenhouse of the garden.

He had invited me to share dessert made by a Francia Dessert Contest first-place pâtissier—something I absolutely couldn’t refuse.
“Don’t keep calling me out when you’re busy. It’s not even something important.”
I mimicked Masera’s aloof tone and expression from the past.

He watched my quick hand movements as I grabbed the dessert and nodded approvingly.
“Then you should’ve handled the important things first. Though, I can’t guarantee how much of this dessert will remain when you return.”
“No! I mean—no matter how trivial, once you start something, you should see it through.”

I shook my head firmly.
After long observation, I knew that man never left food unfinished.
To be honest, desserts by a skilled pâtissier were no trivial matter either.

‘Offering something this precious to me? What an adorable man he is.’
“Would you like the strawberry?”
As if that weren’t enough, he even surrendered the strawberry on top of the cake without hesitation.

“Well, if you insist, I have no choice but to… Oh—what is this flavor?! It’s leagues beyond those bruised strawberries on overpriced cakes!”
In the end, my defensive mode crumbled.
I tried to regain composure, but seeing the smirk curl one corner of his lips, I was struck by a sense of crushing defeat.

Just then, the butler approached and handed Masera a letter.
As he read, his expression gradually hardened. He stood up.
“Please, go ahead without me.”

“What? Why? What’s going on?”
I looked after him as he quickly walked away, then looked back at the dessert.
‘He gave this up and left? Just how serious is it?’

* * *
A few days later, the Duke rushed out looking pale.
In one hand, he held a newspaper.

「Senior Official in Intelligence Bureau Found Involved in Solicitation and Evidence Destruction…
Joint Command: “We will thoroughly investigate the forces behind this.”」
The named official was someone involved in the fake note incident.

It was only a matter of time before the ducal family’s involvement came to light.
“So he’s not just letting it slide.”
Masera had remained quiet despite being a major figure.

But now, if he was determined to wield his military authority, things could get troublesome in many ways.
The Duke couldn’t understand why this minor incident was being stirred up again.
He headed straight to the official residence, sorting through his tangled thoughts.

After a long wait in the VIP lounge, he was finally granted an audience with Masera.
“The official mentioned in the paper is my cousin’s son-in-law. This investigation puts me in a tough position. But after all, you and I are family now, aren’t we?”
Masera, seated neatly, lifted his gaze at the Duke’s words. Dressed in a perfectly pressed uniform, his restrained eyes carried a chilling distance.

A mere commoner and former conscript, yet the oppressive force he exuded had always rubbed the Duke the wrong way. But now, something felt different.
The deceptive ease of someone silently observing ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ everything while pretending otherwise—was gone.
“Do you think I know nothing, or that even if I do, I can do nothing?”

At Masera’s low voice, the Duke furrowed his brow.
He recalled the time during a blizzard when he’d issued a reckless ‘advance’ order to cut losses by sacrificing a whole unit. Masera, the commanding officer then, had taken the blame without a word.
Yet the war hero’s reputation had suffered no real harm. On the contrary, some praised it as strategic brilliance.

The Duke’s gaze dropped to the black gloves Masera wore—ones typically used during interrogations.
Seeing them made him feel like he was the one being interrogated.
“What exactly are you trying to say?”

“I’m simply informing you—I’ve tolerated things because they weren’t worth my attention. Rumors, damaged reputation—they don’t affect me.”
The Duke’s fingers twitched slightly atop his knee.
Masera tilted his chin up and continued calmly.

“I’ve never had a hobby of correcting inherently broken people.”
“Then why bring it up now?”
“It’s simple. I’ve started to care.”

Masera tugged his gloves tight and lifted his gaze sharply.
“About what your wife—the Duchess—has been doing behind the scenes.”
“What has my wife done?”

Though he already knew, he asked to probe further.
“You can’t possibly be unaware. I let it slide since she’s your wife’s sister, but she keeps crossing the line.”
“What’s the point of caring about the reputation of a royal you despise? You don’t even care about the princess.”

He hadn’t seemed to care before. Why now?
Masera tilted his sharp jaw and gave a faint smile.
“Who said I don’t care?”

The Duke felt as if he’d been struck in the head with a stone.
At first, he’d hoped Masera would get hurt falling for a fake princess. But now that it was actually happening, he felt a twinge of envy and annoyance.
Yet the feeling was fleeting.

“Whether I hold her accountable or let it go—it all depends entirely on my mood. Just like it always has.”
Masera placed a photograph on the table.
The Duke’s eyes widened in alarm as he saw the image of Cynthia.

“I find myself questioning the intelligence of someone who uses the same tactic twice.”
In Masera’s scornful tone, the Duke responded calmly.
“This is just a small misunderstanding.”

“I know. Whether the Duke lavishes her with gifts or trails after her wagging his tail—my wife has no interest. So I don’t care, either.”
Masera’s smile widened as he watched the Duke’s face twist.
“I’m referring to the Duchess’s blackmail attempts—shoving this photo around and demanding money.”

A heavy silence filled with tension stretched between them.
Masera lifted his now-cold teacup and spoke again.
“The Duchess isn’t the only one who can hire someone to watch others.”

“You dare suggest you’ve been spying on the high-born Duchess of Recanosa?”
“And what if I did?”
At Masera’s calm retort, the outraged Duke shot to his feet.

“No matter how much of a war hero you are, to challenge the Duke’s household—”
“The Duchess is currently under international surveillance.”
“What?!”

Masera quietly set his teacup down, the corners of his lips curving faintly.
“Because there’s evidence that funds from the Duke’s house have been flowing to an arms trafficking organization.”