The Tragic Male Lead Chose the Wrong Partner

* * *

Early in the morning, Duke Recanosa and Helene departed for their honeymoon.
The Queensguard family was also due to leave, but Count Queensguard called Cynthia aside, claiming he wanted some family time.
“Cynthia, you’ve done a wonderful job flattering those proud noble ladies. Seems they’ve taken a liking to you.”

Since the real power in the duke’s household lay with the Grand Madam Recanosa, the fact that Cynthia had won her favor was a good thing from the count’s perspective.
It would help compensate for Helene’s stiff and unapproachable demeanor.
‘She knows how to charm elders. If I put her into high society, she might actually prove useful.’

It was unfortunate that her period of use wouldn’t be very long.
The count was aware that some of the servants he had sent had died, but he chose not to bring it up.
They had been caught foolishly trying to sell stolen goods from the residence—there was nothing to blame Cynthia for.

Cynthia, munching on the cookies served with tea, spoke.
“The madams? When I actually spoke with them, they were so open and easygoing!”
Quite the opposite of Helene’s assessment.

Maybe she was just naturally warmhearted and liked people.
The count stared at the red diamond necklace hanging around Cynthia’s neck.
‘Princess Margarita had that kind of personality too. She was kind and naïve enough to gift royal heirlooms to refugee women in gratitude.’

As befitted the name “Queensguard”—a family of knights sworn to protect the queen—the count had known Princess Margarita since childhood.
She had been a gentle, innocent soul, completely unlike the infamy surrounding the Bariesa royal family.
In other words, the perfect person to take advantage of.

“As expected. I knew someone as capable as you would become the Queensguard heir. Oh, and my marriage has been decided. It’s the second prince of a neighboring empire. I don’t even know what kind of person he is, so it’s a bit sad… I wish he were a gentleman as kind and caring as you.”
She hadn’t been easy to obtain.
‘In the end, I only got her after she had fallen and been broken.’
His pure affection for the princess had slowly rotted into desire.

Lost in thought, the count clenched his empty hand as though grabbing at something that was no longer there.
He watched Cynthia seriously as she bit into a large cookie in one go.
“Cynthia, I’ll see you at the wedding. Just remember—if the marriage falls through, the one who’s finished is you.”

In truth, even if Cynthia confessed that she was a fraud, the count had plenty of escape routes.
There was no evidence she was fake.
No matter what she did, he could always excuse it by saying, “She was homesick. She missed her family and wanted to go back.”

And Cynthia knew very well just how cunning the count was.
“There’s no way it’ll fall through. I’m quite happy living comfortably as the wife of a wealthy officer, not working at all.”
Cynthia replied with a bright, innocent smile.

Carlos and Edford looked on with clear disapproval.
* * *
“Snow White, let’s stay in touch often.”

Her tone was still cool, her posture still proud, but at some point, the Grand Madam had come up with an affectionate nickname for me.
Thank goodness it wasn’t something like powdered sugar, flour, or rice.
“Yes, Grand Madam. Honestly, I’d love to come visit every day. I’m family now—please speak to me as comfortably as you do with Sister Helene.”

“Then I’ll assume you’ll be attending tea parties daily after the wedding.”
Madam Hills, the one with the sharpest features, tilted her chin and threw the joke out casually.
Madam Beraché also stepped forward with her usual aloof expression.

“Let’s go together to the Sardine Festival next spring. They have a sardine cooking competition with famous chefs from various countries. You might even be invited as a special judge.”
“Really? That sounds like ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) so much fun! Just the thought of it makes my heart race!”
It wasn’t just a polite response—I genuinely thought it sounded insanely fun.

A sardine cooking contest? How could I not go? The world had been doing something that delightful behind my back!
It was a topic worthy of at least an hour of excited chatter, but the cruel Masera cut me off and politely excused himself.
“Meow.”

At that moment, a plump cheese-colored cat wandered up and rubbed against Masera’s leg, curling its tail around him.
I tried to pet it—it was purring adorably—but sadly, it nimbly dodged my hand.
Madam Beraché tilted her head in puzzlement.

“That’s strange. That one only acts like that to people who feed it.”
Feed it? I quickly searched my pockets, but unfortunately, all I had were peanut candies and a tiny pinecone.
Judging from Masera’s smug expression, he hadn’t gone out to make a snowman the other day—he’d gone out to charm the garden cat.

“Papa!”
I walked up to Count Queensguard, who was also preparing to leave, and beamed brightly.
At the word “Papa,” the count flinched and glanced at me before clearing his throat awkwardly.

“Cindy, what’s gotten into you?”
“Guess I’ll only see you at the wedding. I’ll miss you.”
My realistic daughter act left the count with a forced, awkward smile.

The Grand Madam, noticing his self-consciousness, covered her mouth and laughed.
“There’s no need to be so formal around family. I’m sure it’s hard to let go of your youngest daughter when she’s so dear to you.”
“Indeed. Compared to mature Helene, she’s still like a baby who loves to cling…”

The count, embarrassed, ruffled Cynthia’s hair as he laughed.
The whole ride back, Masera didn’t say a word.
He was usually quiet, but today it felt different…

He looked like someone who had spent the night staring at the ceiling, sorting through all the things that had upset him, and then finally resolved to distance himself from me.
As always, I tried to talk to him.
“Do you like cats? That day, you didn’t go to build a snowman—you went to feed a cat, didn’t you?”

“I don’t like them.”
He answered flatly and opened a book.
That would be more convincing if the book’s title wasn’t A Deep Study of Cats.

I didn’t want to interrupt his reading, so I didn’t say anything else.
Instead, I leaned in a little to peek at the book—but he shifted his body away, clearly bothered.
‘What a cheapskate. Trying to hog the cat’s affection all to himself…’

I decided then and there to ransack the study the moment we got back to the residence.
* * *
The residence wasn’t far from the duke’s estate, so the two of them arrived back in less than an hour.

But today, the residence was more crowded than usual.
Most of those present were soldiers in pristine uniforms. It turned out they had just returned from a reconnaissance mission in a disputed region to deliver their reports.
“Hello!”

Cynthia greeted them brightly, and the soldiers smiled back reflexively.
But the moment they realized she was a descendant of the fallen Bariesa royal family, their attitudes changed immediately.
“Disgusting royal scum—what the hell is she so happy about?”

“She’s obviously some idiot who grew up in the sticks, totally clueless about the world. I bet she doesn’t even know what her family did to the people.”
They couldn’t openly insult their superior’s fiancée, so it ended as whispers behind her back, but the hostility in their eyes was unmistakable.
‘What do I do…’

Seeing their cold reactions, Cynthia covered her mouth with her hand, visibly troubled.
‘Looks like everyone’s holding a grudge against the cold-hearted Colonel… I guess people naturally resent those in charge… Still, I should at least be kind to them.’
Just earlier, she had been adored by the ladies of the duke’s household, and had briefly forgotten her place—as a despised remnant of a fallen monarchy.

Among them, one officer glared at her with particular venom.
‘Marriage? With that kind of brainless woman?’