The Tragic Male Lead Chose the Wrong Partner

* * *

After the banquet ended, Helene was immediately summoned by the Grand Madam and scolded.
Madam Beraché and Madam Hills, the Grand Madam’s sisters who were staying at the ducal residence, had often mocked Helene, and now they joined in again with their spiteful remarks.
“How could you take your sister’s dress? What a disgrace to royal dignity.”

“To think a girl with ten of her own would still envy and steal the one that belongs to another.”
At that, Helene narrowed her eyes and began to calmly refute them point by point.
“I’m not yet the mistress of the house, so I don’t have the authority to pay such an extravagant cost for a dress. And I’m not on such bad terms with my sister that we’d fight over something like that, nor am I so rude as to take what belongs to someone else.”

“Then are you saying the Duke of Recanosa took your sister’s dress and gave it to you? How utterly shameless.”
That was the truth.
But even if she explained, they wouldn’t believe her. These women were never on her side to begin with.

At that moment, the Duke appeared and intervened.
“There was a mistake on the atelier’s end. It seems the dress I ordered was swapped. It wasn’t her fault, so please don’t scold her further.”
Helene bit her lip.

'Then he should’ve clarified that in front of everyone...'
“You don’t even remember the dress you wore? You must have received it the day before the ceremony—there was plenty of time to check,” Madam Hills pressed persistently.
'So that’s why he kept his mouth shut and let me take the fall.'

Helene let out a long sigh.
The Medeia nobles were notoriously fastidious and sharp-tongued.
And being of prestigious royal collateral, they didn’t bother to soften their words for others’ dignity. Yet at the same time, they clung so tightly to formality that it was exhausting.

As Helene remained silent, the Duke offered another excuse.
“She was likely overwhelmed with wedding preparations. Let’s leave it at that, Madam.”
Helene bowed respectfully and followed him.
“Your Grace, did the dress really get switched?”

“It did.”
“Then I’ll contact Meriseiren and have them send mine.”
The Duke came to a sudden halt. He turned and looked back at her with a cold gaze.

“You’re being tiresome. Are you planning to hold another wedding ceremony?”
“No, but it was made for me, after all.”
“I’ll have the butler handle it. Just wait.”

Helene once again felt a surge of frustration.
“So are you going to blame me and get away with it every time something inconvenient happens?”
“Blame? What on earth are you talking about?”

“You made it look like I humiliated myself just to one-up Brigadier Visente.”
As soon as Helene said that, the Duke gripped her shoulder tightly. His eyes gleamed menacingly.
“Watch your mouth. Who are you accusing of being conscious of whom?”

But Helene wasn’t an ordinary woman.
“Then are you saying I was conscious of my sister? I only compete with others—I don’t wallow in inferiority. I don’t understand why you’re so preoccupied with an orphan from the war. She probably doesn’t even care about you, much less consider you a rival. Why are you acting as if the noble and commoner roles have reversed?”
“You’re just a fallen bloodline who wouldn’t even be treated as a princess under normal circumstances. What gives you the confidence to speak like that?”

The Duke glared at her, his fury boiling over.
“And you, so noble and accomplished, tear down your wife in front of everyone?”
“Isn’t it a wife’s duty to bolster her husband’s pride?”

“We married for mutual benefit, didn’t we? If you wanted a self-sacrificing wife who exists to boost your ego, you ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) clearly chose the wrong person.”
“So this is what you learned from those bridal lessons? To defy and argue with your husband?”
Helene stared at him with a frosty gaze, unimpressed by his baseless insults.

“Your Grace. You seem to be under some illusion, but you didn’t choose me—I chose you. Because you had the best conditions.”
“What?”
“There are plenty of men out there willing to treat me like a princess. If you look down on me again, I’ll make sure you regret it. We’re dropping formalities now, aren’t we? Let’s do that.”

Now that she was officially the duchess, she realized she didn’t need him at all.
Helene turned away coldly.
Watching her walk off, the Duke scowled viciously.

“Tch. No different from those haughty women from her mother’s side.”
Proud, spewing cutting remarks while pretending to be graceful, crushing a man’s pride yet expecting to be honored in return.
Now that he had such a woman as his wife, he finally understood why his father, the previous Duke, had died young.

'If I want to live a long life, I’ll have to stay detached.'
It was a political marriage, a means to an end. He never intended to have affection for her.
Clicking his tongue, the Duke turned his back on her.

And just like that, a clean fissure was drawn between the two of them.
* * *
Once inside the room, Masera and I fell into silence.

But that only made things feel more awkward, so I broke the silence first.
“So, we’re sleeping in the same room now?”
“That’s how it ended up.”

He spoke as if it were an unfortunate accident.
It somehow reminded me of the entire process that led to this marriage in the first place.
I rubbed my gloved hands together and looked out the window.

“The butler was right. It’s really snowing a lot.”
Thick snow was pouring from the darkened sky.
When he insisted I stay the night, I thought he was a shady mastermind, but maybe it was just concern I might get stranded.

I wrapped a blanket around myself and sat in front of the crackling fireplace.
“Why are you sitting on the floor? I thought you were resting.”
“This is me resting. It’s the warmest spot, too.”

This was my favorite ‘fire-gazing’ mode, but Masera must’ve thought I was uncomfortable around him.
He re-donned the neatly hung coat and said,
“I’ll step out for a bit.”

“No.”
It was someone else’s house, and the room was so big—even the painting of that stern-looking man on the wall was scary. I didn’t want to be alone.
I shot to my feet and grabbed Masera’s sleeve.

“There’s just something I need to check outside. I’ll be quick...”
“What is it? I want to come too.”
“It’s nothing.”

“I can’t stand not knowing things.”
At this point, curiosity was a bigger motivator than not wanting to be alone.
While playfully tugging back and forth, I misstepped and tilted backward.

Masera quickly caught me by the arm.
“Eek!”
Luckily, I didn’t crack my head open—but I did fulfill the “Top 10 Must-Have Romcom Accidents: Accidental Hug” cliché.

I ended up clinging to his chest in an awkward embrace.
Masera let out a sharp exhale and peeled me off, clearly agitated.
Well, his expression looked irritated, but his actions were careful.

Maybe he thought if I tripped again, we’d just keep hugging on loop.
“Seriously...”
He muttered in an annoyed tone, then stormed out of the room.

Whatever he said after that didn’t really register. Maybe because it had been my first hug with a handsome man.
Left alone, I shrugged and sighed.
“Phew. I guess I’ll go look for that snobbish cheese-cat now.”

I really want to know what he’s up to. Now it’s a matter of pride.
I stepped out and looked down the hall.
“Did he sprint away?”

Already gone? I blinked in confusion at the empty hallway.
Then, I heard footsteps behind me and a gentle voice spoke up.
“Princess, what are you doing here?”

I flinched at the unfamiliar title and turned around.
Duke Henry Recanosa was looking at me.
“Hello. I was just about to go find the Brigadier. He said he’d be right back, but it’s been a while, so I got worried. You haven’t seen him, have you?”

It had only been a minute, but still.
The Duke smiled faintly at my nodding.
“Hmm, perhaps he stepped out for a cigar.”

“A cigar? He never smokes around me, so I had no idea.”
“Are you worried he might be meeting a secret lover?”
“No?”

He clearly wasn’t the type to juggle social circles.
The Duke continued in a teasing tone.
“I suppose it’s natural to worry. He is quite handsome and draws a lot of attention from the ladies.”

“I imagine you’ve stolen quite a few hearts yourself, Your Grace. But I get the feeling that, love them or hate them, you’d only ever think of one person for the rest of your life.”
I returned the compliment and glanced toward the hallway window.
But when no reply came, I looked back at the Duke.

Did he not like my analysis? He had the perfect look of a failed one-sided lover turned dark obsession sub-lead.
The expression he gave me was... difficult to read.