The Tragic Male Lead Chose the Wrong Partner

* * *
Helene dismissed Cynthia’s meaningful words as nothing more than the provocation of a loser. She was that certain her own version of the truth was correct.

Looking around at the gathered guests, Helene presented what she believed to be irrefutable evidence.
“When I was a child, I found a record related to the royal inheritance among my mother’s keepsakes.”
She pulled a pocket watch from her bodice. On the lid was a portrait of Princess Margarita.

‘So that’s where it went.’
Count Queensguard clicked his tongue in annoyance.
Every guest was focused on Helene’s every word—royalty, grand madams, princesses alike.

Helene continued speaking, as if she were already crowned queen.
“When I opened the back cover of the watch, I found an inscription. ‘The legacy of the Bariesa dynasty shall be found only by the bloodline of the Frost Queen. To the true heir shall return the glory of the golden day.’ The name ‘Dias’ means ‘day’.”
Gasps and murmurs rippled through the crowd.

“So that means the Duchess is the true heir of Bariesa?” someone asked.
Helene humbly covered her mouth and answered, “It’s merely a possibility.”
Prince Sylvar, who had been watching quietly, tilted his head slightly, a pensive expression crossing his face.

The investors in Dias were jubilant; meanwhile, those who had poured money into Nox clutched their heads in despair—or desperately clung to hope.
“Brigadier, what is going on here? Were you truly deceived by the princess?”
“No, of course not. Just because there’s gold in Dias doesn’t mean Nox is a fraud.”

Eventually, a group of Nox investors rushed forward in protest. Masera leaned down and whispered to Cynthia.
“They’re easily swayed. I’ll go resolve this quickly.”
Cynthia watched silently as he moved away with the investors.

‘…Does he really trust me? Helene’s so confident, it’d be easy to doubt me.’
Just as she feared, some were openly criticizing her.
“She tricked the royal family of Medeia—how does she plan to answer for that?”
“Visente must be feeling terribly betrayed right now.”

At that moment, Major Rodriguez—also attending the engagement—approached Cynthia.
“Lady Cynthia, I think you should get some air.”
“Oh, yes. Sure.”

Still dazed, Cynthia accepted his escort and started to leave the banquet. Just then, a nobleman began laughing and loudly spewing vulgar comments.
“I hear there are rumors about her personal life too. Supposedly her morals are lighter than a feather. She even gave me a flirty smile once.”
When the man saw Cynthia stop walking, he immediately shut his mouth.

Cynthia turned to him with a bright, sunny smile.
“I smile at everyone the same. If you misread that, that’s your own problem.”
“And if you smile at everyone, that’s not charm—that’s vulgarity.”
As the man snapped, Cynthia suddenly dropped her smile and stared him down.

“That’s why no one smiles at you. Your face looks like someone spit out a half-chewed raisin.”
A stifled snort escaped from someone nearby. The man’s face turned beet red from humiliation.
Cynthia turned her head with a smug toss and continued walking.

‘Don’t pick a fight with a verbal warfare veteran from the most insult-rich language group on Earth.’
You’ll only leave with emotional scars.
Major Rodriguez chuckled as he looked at her.

“You’re quite formidable.”
“Petty insults from weak-willed reeds that sway with every breeze are nothing to me. It’s not like bombs are falling from the sky.”
The major could feel it—this was a woman who had lived a hard, lonely life. Her indifference to scorn came from sheer repetition.

As a fellow soldier and friend, he wanted to remind her she wasn’t alone.
“I was thinking of throwing some harsh words at that man myself, but it seems I was too slow. I’ll have to learn from you.”
“You’re just not ready for the battlefield of words yet.”

Sighing, Cynthia lowered her eyes—only to see a pair of unfamiliar shoes step in front of her. She looked up.
“Shall we have a little chat?”
Helene stood there with a serene smile.

* * *
I followed Helene to the garden fountain.
Was she planning to push me in? I imagined a splash-filled counterattack… but seeing the fountain completely frozen over, I let out a sigh of relief.

Helene lifted her chin with haughty pride.
“Did you really think Father would entrust the true inheritance to you or that brigadier? You should be thankful I exposed it early.”
“You didn’t do it for my sake, so what’s there to be thankful for?”

“Father’s planning to kill you, you know. He’s going to reclaim Nox after the railway development finishes.”
Should I act shocked?
Watching my unreadable expression, Helene placed a hand on her hip.

“Your defeat was inevitable from the beginning. So stop entertaining false hope and run far away. I’ll overlook your crimes out of mercy.”
I burst into laughter so loud my shoulders shook.
“Ah, dressing up cowardice as mercy now, are we?”

“What are you talking about? I’ve already won.”
“You don’t know the saying? ‘It’s not over until it’s over.’”
“Do you still not understand the situation? Even the brigadier will turn against you. You’re completely alone now.”

Her voice grew louder and more agitated—like she was projecting her own circumstances onto me.
I gazed at her.
“You’re alone too.”

She had burned all her bridges, alienated everyone in her path, and kept charging forward alone.
The way she flinched, as if I’d struck her, said everything. Her mouth twisted.
“What do you know?”

“I know that you base your life’s worth on recognition and validation. But that destroys not just others—it breaks you too. The value of your life isn’t defined by others. It’s something you decide.”
She looked like someone always staring up at the high sky—never realizing she was standing at the edge of a cliff.
Helene’s face contorted with distaste.

“Spouting nonsense like some kind of saint—it’s disgusting. You’ll regret not listening to me.”
“You’re the one who’ll regret today.”
I added softly,

“Today, in front of foreign dignitaries, you didn’t just insult the Prime Minister. You also insulted the Medeian royal family.”
She had accused them of falling for a scam—calling them incompetent fools.
As if realizing this, Helene’s cheeks turned pale. Her lips moved silently before she whipped around and left.

* * *
Alone again, I looked up at the night sky, fiddling with the necklace.
‘She said her keepsake had records? This is a keepsake too. Maybe I need a magnifying glass?’

Maybe something like, “This land belongs to so-and-so!” was scribbled in there.
I brought the necklace so close it nearly poked my eye, when someone tapped me on the shoulder.
Was it Major Rodriguez, waiting by the entrance?

I looked up—and saw a man in an extravagant formal outfit. It was Marquis Aidan of the Lumantis Empire.
“Oh ho! Princess, just the person I was looking for.”
“What is it, Marquis?”

He approached, reeking of strong alcohol.
His proximity made me start stepping backward.
“Indeed, so pale and lovely, just like the moon. I’ve been waiting all evening for a chance to speak with you.”

“…Why?”
As I stepped back, he stepped closer, smiling lecherously.
“I run a large auction house, so I have a sharp eye for jewels. And seeing as you’ll be divorced soon, I thought—who better to accept you than a man as open-minded as I?”

“Try closing that mind.”
Ugh! Just looking at the age gap, he was probably twice my age twice. What the hell was this?
The marquis, trying to ooze charm, winked at me.

“At my age, I find no thrill in playing hard to get. Let me show you the value of a seasoned man—unlike those young pups who buy fake diamond necklaces.”
…Calling a royal keepsake a fake? That’s some truly poor taste.
I glanced at his hair and said brightly,

“Pretty sure the fake is your hair.”
I simply had to call out the toupee flapping like a loose lid in the wind.