The Tragic Male Lead Chose the Wrong Partner

At Milchenko the butler’s furious outburst, Madam Eleonora’s eyes widened in shock—then quickly regained her composure.
“Oh my, the old gardener from our estate. We were so gracious to hire an unwanted war veteran that no one else would take, and this is how you repay us? How ungrateful.”
“You filthy lot should be thrown into a minefield. Get out right now!”

Milchenko had always had a gentle, smiling demeanor. It was the first time anyone had seen him this enraged, and everyone was stunned.
Count Visente stroked his wrinkled chin with one hand.
“In the old days, a man like that would’ve lost his head. First he steals the title from his legal parents, and now he lets it be known he won’t lift a finger for us when we’re left homeless? Is that the story he wants people to hear?”

Milchenko glared at them with a ferocity that could kill—but even he couldn’t bring himself to expose their wickedness in public. There were too many people in this world who would twist others’ misfortunes into leverage.
Just then, Cynthia lightly tapped Milchenko’s arm and smiled.
“Grandpa Butler, leave it to me.”

Cynthia already had a plan.
As much as she wanted to throw them out on the spot, that wouldn’t solve anything.
They would just return, more persistent, dragging reporters with them to cry crocodile tears and paint themselves as the victims.

And more importantly, the Grand Madam had written them a letter of recommendation. She had likely been deceived—but it was still a complication.
'If that’s the case, I need to build a proper excuse.'
“I’ll show you to your rooms. Please, make yourselves ‘comfortable’.”

At Cynthia’s polite remark, Count Visente lifted his chin arrogantly and said,
“This is the home of our daughter-in-law. Shouldn’t you be offering us the master bedroom, at the very least?”
Dalia, who stood beside Cynthia, responded with a stern voice.

“You’re requesting the master {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} bedroom used by a married couple? That is highly inappropriate. Show respect in front of the Princess.”
But they barely acknowledged her and began to make even more outrageous demands to Cynthia.
“We heard you only brought a patch of wasteland as your dowry when you married. I assume you’ve prepared a proper gift for your in-laws?”
“There were no in-laws to prepare anything for.”

Cynthia shrugged, unfazed.
Watching her husband and brother-in-law make fools of themselves, Madam Eleonora turned to Cynthia and requested a private conversation.
“Princess, could we speak alone for a moment?”

Cynthia nodded and led her into the study.
“Before we begin, you’ll need to sign a confidentiality agreement to stay here. It’s a military facility. Please read it thoroughly and sign.”
Madam Eleonora frowned slightly at the thick stack of papers Cynthia handed her.

“Wouldn’t this be better handled later…”
“You won’t be able to stay here otherwise. Even ‘legal parents’ must agree not to leak military information.”
Cynthia smiled sweetly as she spoke. In her haste, Eleonora only skimmed the pages and signed.

'The important thing is to win over the Princess first.'
Madam Eleonora began a lengthy, flowery monologue about how much they had cherished Masera, and how deeply they’d been tormented by guilt.
“He may have left us with a large debt and taken our title, but we don’t resent him.”

“Isn’t it a situation where resentment would be warranted?”
At Cynthia’s pointed reply, Eleonora’s eyes briefly sharpened before softening again.
“He’s like a son to us. Parents don’t resent their children. So I hope you’ll help us reconcile.”

“Do parents let their young sons roam warzones? That’s… interesting.”
Looking at Cynthia’s bright, innocent expression, Eleonora’s face slowly began to flush with anger.
“It was all a misunderstanding…”

“If it’s gone unresolved for over a decade, maybe it’s not a misunderstanding anymore. Just something to reflect on.”
How obvious. Now that Masera had become a famous war hero, they wanted to be treated like his parents. From what Cynthia had seen of him, he wasn’t someone who hurt others for no reason.
Cynthia sighed lightly and asked,

“By the way, in that massive misunderstanding… how exactly did you manage to borrow so much money? I genuinely want to know.”
There were too many inconsistencies to chalk this all up to a simple ‘misunderstanding.’
At Cynthia’s signature style of innocent yet brutal questioning, Madam Eleonora finally exploded.

“If you don’t know anything, just shut up! Do you know how hard things have been for us?!”
“I’m just repeating the facts I’ve learned from this conversation. What’s the issue?”
“That’s exactly it! When your mother-in-law is begging you like this, how dare you talk back like that—”

But Cynthia just kept smiling brightly.
“Ma’am, if you’re claiming to be my mother-in-law, shouldn’t the person asking for help be the one minding their manners?”
“Didn’t you hear we’re Masera’s legal parents? I expected more reason from someone called a Princess.”

“It’s not that I’m being unreasonable—it’s just that you’re not hearing the answer you want.”
Eleonora’s gaze turned vicious.
“Don’t tell me… is it that you don’t want Masera to have a family? After everything your royal kind did to ruin his life, you should be going out of your way to help him reconcile. He’s a lonely child who needs a family.”

As her shameless remarks continued, Cynthia’s expression turned disgusted.
“And surely even you prefer that your husband be the adopted son of a noble family, rather than a war orphan?”
That was it. Cynthia’s anger surged. She didn’t know the full details of what happened between them—but this much was clear:

“You’re just here for the wealth and glory of a war hero. You didn’t come for the colonel—you came for what he can give you.”
They must have thought Cynthia would be easier to sway than Masera. Maybe they thought she’d play angel and push for a happy family reunion.
Seeing the cold look in Cynthia’s eyes, Eleonora faltered and spoke more weakly.

“We’re saying this because we’re on the brink of death…”
“Then you should be in a hospital. What are you doing here?”
“It’s not our health—it’s debt. My husband owes a massive amount to a criminal organization. If we don’t repay it soon, neither of us will die clean deaths.”

So it really was about money. Cynthia could almost taste the bitterness rising in her throat.
“And if something happens to you and Masera, wouldn’t that cause a scandal? That’s why I thought it’d be better to resolve it now, with your help.”
“What kind of trouble, exactly?”

“The organization knows Masera is our adopted son. They’ll come to him demanding repayment. But if you take care of it quietly, there won’t be any mess for anyone.”
'No—they weren’t told. They told the organization themselves.'
Cynthia closed her eyes slowly, then opened them.

“Then let them come.”
“…Pardon?”
“I told you—this is a military facility. Isn’t that why you’re trying to camp out here?”

Eleonora’s eyes widened in shock at the unexpected response.
“If this continues, the honor of a war hero could be tarnished—!”
“How much power do you think that title holds?”

At Cynthia’s calm question, Eleonora fell silent, just staring at her.
Cynthia’s gloved fingers picked up a sugar cube and dropped it into her tea.
“It means he can do a lot behind the scenes—without anyone ever knowing.”

Eleonora’s eyes followed the sugar cube as it sank into the teacup, dissolving without a trace.
As she watched, Cynthia smiled brightly.
“Don’t look for salvation in others. Reflect on your actions and ask for forgiveness if you want redemption.”

Madam Eleonora suddenly shot to her feet, her bloodshot eyes blazing with fury and resentment.
“Even after all this pleading, how can you be so cruel?! I guess it’s true—birds of a feather flock together!”
She shouted, her anger exploding.

“Just so you know, we’re not going anywhere! We are his ‘legal parents’!”
With that final cry, she turned and stormed out of the study in a flurry.
“…Legally, you can’t.”

Cynthia muttered as she looked at the confidentiality agreement Eleonora had hastily signed earlier—and smirked with a wicked glint in her eyes.
'Indeed. Kindness is always the best way to disarm your enemy.'