The Tragic Male Lead Chose the Wrong Partner

* * *

「The weather in Lutemia is too cold for me to bear. I’m counting on you, Princess Cynthia. — Diana Spencer Rothschild」
That was how I ended up in charge of the Lutemia chapter, and how this entire event came to be.
From that short and potent letter, I could tell what kind of person the crown princess—whom I had never met—must be.

“So… you’re saying you’re close enough to the Medeian royal family to be entrusted with an entire foundation chapter?”
Those who had believed, based on Helene’s words, that the joint venture with the royal family was solely Masera’s accomplishment began to realize—
They had to consider me someone worth getting on the good side of too.

I began listing the kinds of privileges that would make those who missed the opportunity green with envy.
“Foundation members receive official invitations to major events held by the Kingdom of Medeia. And if you become an outstanding volunteer, you may be awarded an honorary title.”
The six who had expressed interest out of pure intentions covered their mouths in shock at the unexpected, extraordinary opportunity.

Two others, who had shown no desire to participate until now, hastily changed their tune.
“I’d like to volunteer too. I’ve been a regular donor for years.”
“Is it too late? I didn’t raise my hand because I was still thinking it over…”

Too late, you vultures.
“Registration was first-come, first-served and is now closed. From here on, applicants must log at least 200 hours of volunteer work to be considered. The watch is only given to those selected as outstanding volunteers.”
Faced with those brutal requirements and the realization they’d missed a golden opportunity, many looked visibly regretful. Even Helene’s hangers-on were no exception.

“Representative Cynthia, I noticed the newspaper just came out.”
Dalia handed me the afternoon edition.
Splashed across the front page were photos of me hugging the Count of Queensguard, and another of me hanging off Edford’s back.

But why was there a tearful selfie of the Count?
「Count of Queensguard weeps all night over malicious rumors aimed at his daughter… Simply a doting father who cherishes his beloved youngest child.
Princess Cynthia explained, ‘The controversial photo shows Prince Carlos returning a lost hairpin. I was expressing my gratitude.’ The hairpin was a gift from her husband, Colonel Masera del Visente…」
That article would no doubt spread like wildfire soon.

Dalia asked, “Shall I distribute copies to the guests here?”
“No need. Anyone who wants to understand will do so. Let’s leave it to their judgment.”
The people who had been so eager to find fault with me suddenly went quiet.

I’d told them they were free to leave, so why were they still here?
Everyone was awkwardly eyeing one another, hesitating to be the first to go. Even the man who had loudly threatened to walk out stayed put.
“So… there’s a rebuttal article now?”

“If those rumors were malicious lies, then we’re the only fools who missed out, right?”
“Well, that explains why Miss Valeria accepted Prince Carlos’ proposal.”
Apparently, the article had begun circulating among the attendees—no wonder the aides had been moving so busily.

Nobles never act out of loyalty; they go wherever there’s more to gain.
Still, watching even Helene’s followers waver left me with a hollow feeling.
“So hard to make real friends, huh.”

I sighed—just briefly—before spotting Masera off in the distance, speaking with some officers.
I silently prayed ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) not to be associated with Carlos anymore, and prepared to launch Operation “Look Lovey-Dovey with Masera” in front of everyone.
Now’s the time!

I filled my lungs and shouted at the top of my voice.
“Darling!”
The whole crowd turned their heads at once.

“……”
In Masera’s eyes, I caught a flicker of unbearable humiliation—but surprisingly, he smiled.
‘Trying not to show it? Adorable.’

I was quite pleased with myself for managing to make him blush.
* * *
“You said you’d go insane if I was out of sight for even a moment! Where have you been?”

Masera strained every muscle in his face to suppress his reaction to Cynthia’s humiliating remark.
‘…She’s definitely enjoying this.’
That wicked grin she wore was proof enough.

She’d clearly mastered the art of embarrassing her opponent with cheesy provocations.
As someone who’d usually been on the receiving end, Masera couldn’t just stand by anymore.
He strode straight to Cynthia, placed his hand on her shoulder, leaned in, and whispered in a low voice:

“…I’ve let it slide until now, but I won’t forget today’s disgrace.”
“How will you get revenge?”
At Cynthia’s innocent-sounding question, Masera scoffed.

“I intend to prove—physically—that our relationship is too good.”
For someone as competitive as him, it wasn’t about dignity as a commander—it was about winning.
Cynthia widened her eyes and covered her mouth.

“Oh no, don’t tell me… another public kis—”
“I’ll make a habit of entering every social party with you in my arms. I’ll even bring a military band.”
What—he wants to parade around like royalty everywhere?

Not happening!
* * *
Meanwhile, Duke of Recanosa, who had been silently observing, turned his gaze to Helene, who was trying hard to maintain her composure.

He lowered his voice so only she could hear.
“I asked the intelligence bureau to exclude your forged note from the evidence. But since the incident occurred at your private estate, Director Isaac is insisting on tracking down all those involved.”
“And?”

Helene calmly adjusted her slightly disheveled hair and responded with elegance.
“They’ll investigate the security guards under the Director’s command. If Isaac wants to protect his own men, he’ll be forced to close the case.”
“Then there shouldn’t be any issues.”

The Duke frowned at her lack of gratitude and added quietly,
“Unlike your fake sister, you’ve done nothing to elevate your husband’s status. At the very least, I hope you’ll stop causing trouble.”
A faint vein pulsed on Helene’s forehead at being compared to Cynthia. But she had no retort.

‘That imposter brought in investment capital despite all the slander, while the real princess only stirs up problems. Is there even a gold mine in Dias?’
The Duke grumbled internally.
Securing investments for the development of Dias was entirely his responsibility. Helene, too prideful to ask anyone for help, had left everything to him.

Unlike the wasteland of Nox, Dias required negotiations with existing residents for relocation compensation. Thanks to Helene’s arrogance, the residents were now furious and opposing the project.
With a deep furrow in his brow, the Duke rose from his seat.
“I’ll rest for a bit in the annex. I’ll see you at dinner.”

After he left, a young woman passed Helene with a cheerful smile.
Something about that smile felt oddly mocking.
“What was that?”

A prickly instinct flashed in Helene’s mind.
She stared after the woman heading toward the annex where guests rested.
“……”

She recalled a conversation with some noblewomen: “Women have sharp intuition.”
And that intuition, they said, was rarely wrong.
“Even in political marriages, couples should uphold their loyalty. But fidelity isn’t necessarily part of that loyalty.”

“Having a lover is so common now, it’s weirder to get mad about it.”
At the time, Helene had nodded along with those remarks. Outwardly.
But inwardly, she had prided herself on choosing a man who was different.

The Duke of Recanosa, raised under the strict Grand Madam, valued noble dignity above all.
‘No way.’
She had to confirm with her own eyes that her choice hadn’t been mistaken.

Helene promptly rose and made her way toward the annex.
When she opened the door to the guest suite, an unpleasant heat hit her. She looked down at the floor.
“……”

A coat lay on the ground like a trail marker, leading her eyes toward the bedroom.
And there, she witnessed the worst possible scene.