The Tragic Male Lead Chose the Wrong Partner

Strategy? Does he think I’m seducing him?

But even I had to admit—my behavior probably did give off a “Wanna sneak in a kiss before you go?” signal.
His neatly sculpted jaw tilted, and then warm, soft lips brushed against my forehead.
It was just a touch on the forehead, yet my whole body tingled.

The small gap in his shirt neatly buttoned up to the collar, the loosely tied necktie—it all looked unbearably sensual.
‘Think pure thoughts!’
I shut my eyes tightly, then cautiously opened them again to find his languid gaze lowered—his face close to mine.

That expression—totally unfair.
He pulled me in and whispered, our bodies pressed close.
“May I do this every day?”

“You’re leaving quite a bit out of that question.”
At that, he turned slightly red at the corners of his eyes and gave an earnest reason.
“When I was young, before my father set sail, he would always kiss my mother lightly. He’d be gone for a long time once he left for the sea.”

Even though he was just going to the building next door…
I patted his broad back and subtly pulled away. I was too embarrassed for him to hear my racing heart or labored breath.
“Good luck with the volunteer work today.”

For once, Masera didn’t insist on coming with me.
“If anyone bothers you, be sure to tell me.”
His added words had a chilly edge, so I carefully asked,

“What happens to the person who bothers me?”
“I’ll make them disappear.”
Terrifying!
* * *

At the orphanage, Cynthia immediately approached the Duke of Recanosa.
“Your Grace, may I speak with you in private?”
“Of course.”

The Duke nodded with a slightly expectant expression.
They moved to ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) an empty playroom, where Cynthia stepped in close.
“You know Anna has disappeared, don’t you?”

“I do.”
The Duke answered uprightly, lifting his chin.
“You didn’t hide her, did you?”
It was a question meant to confirm whether he knew she was dead.

The Duke glanced at her awkwardly.
“No. It seems your sister took her. I didn’t ask where she went, so I don’t know.”
‘So he doesn’t talk to Helene. I figured they weren’t close.’

Having grasped the gist, Cynthia continued.
“Have you been to the place where Anna was staying?”
“No. I only heard she disappeared through my aide.”

“What if we visited?”
The Duke rubbed his chin thoughtfully, then nodded slowly.
“After my morning appointments, I’ll stop by on the way to the market.”

After making that promise and leaving the playroom, they ran into Makia approaching in a deep navy suit with an apron tied on.
“Hello. Just finishing up the cleaning?”
Recognizing the need for cleaning, the Duke subtly angled his body and slipped away like an eel.

In the end, Cynthia was left to clean the playroom with Makia.
‘Coward. Just run off alone? I hope you step on a Lego barefoot.’
“Madam, could you just tidy up the toys? I’ll handle the rest.”

Makia said with a gentle smile.
Cynthia was surprised to see the areas he cleaned sparkle and shine.
“You’re really good at this!”

At her praise, Makia turned around, dust cloth in hand.
“I’m good at cooking too.”
“Wow, you’re even domestic.”

“The lady who marries me will never have to lift a finger.”
But for some reason, it looked like he might cry...
Cynthia silently reviewed the more unnerving aspects of this seemingly soft-spoken man.

He covered his mouth and gave her a soft-eyed smile.
“Of course, noble ladies like you would have servants do everything for you anyway.”
“Still, I think your future wife will be happy. A husband who serves up a homemade breakfast? Just that would make someone feel full even without eating.”

While dusting the cupboard, he chuckled softly.
Then, as Cynthia carried a box while chatting, she suddenly stepped on something and her eyes flew open.
“Yowch!”

The pain was on par with stubbing a toe—it turned out to be a tiny toy block.
“Are you okay?”
Makia hurried over.

Cynthia sat down, teary-eyed.
“My curse... my curse…”
The curse to step on a Lego came back to haunt me!

“Is it painful enough to curse the world?”
He was already crouched down, closely examining her foot.
Cynthia quickly pulled away. It was a scene ripe for misunderstanding.

Makia gave a low chuckle.
“I stepped on one too, just recently.”
“The same kind?”

“Worse.”
Makia picked up a truly vicious triangular block to show her.
Just looking at it sent chills.

He burst out laughing.
“Marrying someone like you would make every day a delight.”
It was the kind of killer line that could melt any woman’s heart—but Cynthia was caught up in another thought.

‘Would Masera feel happy being with me, too?’
Suddenly, between Makia’s shirt cuff and leather glove, a scale-like pattern appeared and disappeared.
‘A tattoo?’

It vanished so quickly she couldn’t see it clearly.
Still, she felt that strange déjà vu again.
“Makia, have we met before? I keep thinking you look familiar.”

At last, she voiced the question she had been holding in for so long.
Makia’s golden eyes widened, then narrowed again.
“Hmm. I wonder if there could be any overlap between me and Your Highness…”

As he brushed back his black hair, his gaze landed on Cynthia’s necklace.
‘If I get that princess, the rest of the royal inheritance will follow.’
For someone chasing profit, it was a tempting prospect.

“We’ll just have to make those memories together. Through volunteer work, I mean.”
Makia still wore the mask of a smiling gentleman.
* * *

At lunchtime, Cynthia and the Duke made their way to Anna’s house, using grocery shopping as a pretense.
Inside, the place was quiet. No signs of struggle or forced entry.
“Looks like she disappeared somewhere else.”

The Duke glanced around and spoke, but Cynthia disagreed.
“No. She was taken from here. Most likely in the evening. There are signs she was preparing breakfast for the next morning.”
As a former maid, Cynthia quickly noticed the dried dishes and prepped ingredients.

She picked up a frozen dishcloth with her fingertips and began.
“Helene once misunderstood and thought I had killed the Visente family.”
The Duke simply nodded.

Cynthia continued slowly.
“Not long ago, someone told me Anna had died. Anna herself seemed to believe I killed her and tried to blackmail me into paying off some organization’s debt.”
The Duke gave a low sigh.

“That maid’s case is unfortunate. But if you ask me, Your Highness doesn’t seem capable of killing a single bug—”
Before he could finish, a loud bang rang out.
Clang–!

“Ugh! Silverfish, disgusting!”
The Duke cleared his throat as he watched Cynthia smash a bug with a frying pan.
Cynthia turned slowly, pan in hand.

“Do you still hold that opinion, Your Grace?”
“Not at all.”
The Duke quickly shook his head.

“The ducal house has no reason to be at odds with a princess favored by the Queen of Medeia. My mother and aunts, who are the heads of our household, are all fond of Your Highness.”
Then, the Duke spotted something and walked over. A business card had fallen under the bed.
‘Commedia dell’Arte, Sales Director Capitano?’

Wasn’t that a front for an arms trafficking organization?
‘Could Helene have hired them?’
If she had ordered them to extract Anna, and something went wrong leading to her death… and if she now suspected Cynthia because of that—

The Duke stood up urgently, card in hand.
‘If Helene’s connection to an arms trafficking ring is exposed, this will spiral out of control.’
They were known for their cunning and cruelty, for crafting tragedies and mocking them as comedies. That’s why they were called the “masked comedians.”

This was the kind of thing that could cost them everything.
* * *
Helene stood silently, staring at a photograph. A crumpled letter was clenched in one hand.

“The one she really meant it for… wasn’t Anna?”
The photo, delivered by Capitano, showed Cynthia and the Duke together inside a house. And in that photo, the two of them were sitting side by side on a bed.