The Tragic Male Lead Chose the Wrong Partner

* * *
“That’s just it—he harbors such hatred toward us…”
Madam Eleonora hesitated as she spoke.

She still couldn’t let go of the fantasy of being the parent of a distinguished war hero.
But Masera was a cold man.
“I don’t want to carry the filthy name Visente, but I need the title to secure the railway concession. If you don’t want to give it up, then die with your noble honor like the fine aristocrats you pretend to be.”

The look in Masera’s eyes back then—sharp enough to pierce—was still vivid in her memory.
He might appear composed on the outside, but he was a man with no blood nor tears for those who crossed him.
“What’s the problem if the adoption records still exist?”

At Helene’s question, she looked away, her face lacking conviction.
“I was afraid… that he might retaliate or drive us out. So I never approached him.”
Helene spoke in a tone that made it sound like no big deal.

“I heard Colonel Visente is currently abroad for diplomatic matters. That gives you more than enough time to shelter safely at the official residence and try to win over Cynthia.”
With public opinion in mind, would Cynthia really be able to ignore her husband’s adoptive parents?
Helene clasped Madam Eleonora’s hand and spoke sweetly.

“I’ll write to the Grand Madam and explain your situation, asking her to protect you both.”
It was exactly the answer Madam Eleonora had been hoping for.
If the order came from the ducal family—especially from the Grand Madam herself—not even Masera could object.

Helene continued, her expression now serious.
“Aunt, before the colonel returns, you must make sure he repays the debt.”
“I understand.”
So she wanted her younger brother and his household cleaned up before Masera came back and caused a stir. The duchess probably didn’t want to get involved in the mess either.

“I’d rather my sister’s husband come from noble lineage than some rootless upstart.”
Madam Eleonora nodded in agreement.
'It’s a direct order from the Grand Madam—what can he even do about it? It’s ridiculous to still hold a grudge over something that happened so long ago.'

* * *
When I returned to the residence, I entered the empty bedroom.
Masera had left the country to attend a summit of allied nations.

‘Who am I supposed to discuss this with?’
I had cautiously asked Dalia and Diego for information about the Visente family, but even they only knew parts of the story.
“They showed up at a duchess’ gathering? It must be for money. They owed the colonel a debt and lost their title to him.”

I didn’t know the details either. I’d only assumed they were people who’d brought Masera pain.
Given how Masera started speaking about them but then stopped, it seemed like he’d been desperately trying to erase those memories. He probably didn’t even want me bringing them up.
I knew that feeling well—of not wanting others to see your pain.

“What should I say when he comes back…”
I sat down on the sofa that was designated as Masera’s spot, deep in thought.
Suddenly, I felt a tremor rise up from the floor.

Rrrrrumble—
“There it goes again.”
I hunched slightly and looked up at the shaking chandelier.

It wasn’t a serious earthquake—just the usual tremor the ground experienced around this time of year.
Clatter.
At that moment, a few books fell from the shelf.

It hadn’t even been shaking that hard… Could it be a ghost?
Startled, I looked around cautiously.
“Is this a message from my future self?”

I imagined my ghost-self shouting from behind the bookshelf, 'No! Notice my message!', and shrugged my shoulders.
As I stepped forward to gather the fallen books, one of them caught my eye—lying open on the floor.
It was a weekly publication titled The Fastest Guide to the Latest Legal Revisions.

I glanced at the open page.
“…Adoption and Family Law Reform?”
Knock, knock.

Just then, there was a timid knock, and Eugene entered the room in his pajamas, hugging a pillow tightly.
“I came ‘cause I thought you might be scared. I’ll stay next to you while you sleep.”
“Oh no, I was just about to go to you! But it looks like you beat me to it.”

Honestly, we both desperately needed each other in that moment. Because we were scared.
Eugene sat on the bed and looked out the window.
“It’s strange, but when the ground shakes, there’s always a red aurora. It’s the same color as your eyes.”

Then, naturally, he settled on the bed.
“They say auroras come from the other side of the world—where dead people are reborn. If you whistle while looking at them, you can talk to those in the afterlife.”
I whistled with all my heart, as if I were confessing something.

Brother! I was the one who kept sneaking those YummyYummy yogurts out of the fridge, not you!
Sister, I bet you’re still reading novels over there, aren’t you? If by any chance you’re reading rom-coms—give me a hint from wherever you are and help me out!
I kept whistling until my lips were sore, then rubbed them and asked,

“Who told you that?”
“Uncle Masera. He said he heard the story when he was little and used to practice whistling too—to send a message to his parents.”
I wondered what Masera’s real parents had been like.

They must have been good people. The kind who gave him enough love that he could stand strong and live on, even alone.
* * *
The next day, something shocking happened.

The Visente couple—who had only ever sent letters and never shown up in person—suddenly barged into the residence.
“They claim they are the colonel’s legal parents. They even brought the original adoption records.”
Despite the freezing weather, Diego’s forehead was slick with cold sweat. Even he, Masera’s closest aide, seemed to be unaware of the full truth.

“Upon review, the adoption records appear to be authentic.”
Cynthia, watching Diego struggle to contain his dismay, thought to herself:
If they’re suddenly acting so aggressively, something scarier than confronting Masera must be happening. Or maybe someone’s given them advice.

“Lady Cynthia. Should I send a telegram to the colonel?”
“No, he’s attending an important conference right now.”
Which means—I’ll handle it.

Cynthia calmly descended the stairs.
Standing in the main hall were the Visente couple, each with a suitcase, and a middle-aged man who looked like a drifter.
Madam Eleonora lifted her chin with aristocratic arrogance and spoke.

“I made myself perfectly clear, didn’t I? I’m Princess Cynthia’s ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) mother-in-law. The Grand Madam of Recanosa even sent a letter instructing the duchess to support us as relatives.”
The middle-aged man beside her gave a lazy grin.
“I’m Masera’s uncle. Times are tough, so I’ll be staying here for a while. Really, all of this is that boy’s fault for stealing our title.”

It was none other than Oliver Visente—Count Visente’s younger brother—joining the party.
As Cynthia stared at the three of them in disbelief—
“You bastards…”

The moment the scarred butler, Milchenko, saw them, his face went pale. He instantly exploded with uncontainable rage.
“Do you know where the hell you think you are?!”