The Tragic Male Lead Chose the Wrong Partner

* * *

While feeding the Queen’s cat a treat, Masera glanced up at the darkening sky and realized how much time had passed.
“Meow.”
The Queen’s cat was more like a dog—it followed people affectionately.

Not long ago, Cynthia had told him about a rare type of “dog-cat” that supposedly took three generations of good karma to encounter. He was beginning to think this must be the one she’d mentioned.
“When is she coming back? I wanted to show her the dog-cat…”
The words slipped out before he noticed—and he quickly clamped a hand over his mouth, glancing around.

‘Am I seriously thinking like this? Me?’
He returned to the room, but Cynthia still hadn’t come back even after dinner.
‘Don’t tell me she said something wrong and got detained…’

He’d once heard that the Queen had locked her cheeky son-in-law in the dungeon for two days after he won at poker and gloated.
Whether it was some extreme royal joke or serious, he didn’t know—but it wasn’t ideal for something like that to happen during their honeymoon.
Just as he was about to go looking for her out of rising concern, the door clicked open.

“You were here?”
Cynthia entered the room with a bored tone, gathering up her pajamas and… a board game?
Masera watched, puzzled.

“When did you even bring that board game?”
“It’s a conquest game. You try to take over the world.”
“You’re playing that now?”

Cynthia shook her head.
“I brought it just in case, because I heard Her Majesty likes board games. And besides, I’ll be sleeping elsewhere tonight.”
“…What are you talking about?”
Not only had she started keeping a formal distance after their kiss—now she was saying she wouldn’t even sleep here?

A sudden flare of heat rose in his chest. Masera grabbed her arm before she could leave and turned her around.
“So now that we’ve touched, you’re disgusted and avoiding me? I see—so all your behavior until now was just an act.”
“Huh? An act?”

Cynthia’s lips tightened.
Masera hadn’t realized until now that those soft-looking eyes of hers could turn sharp and fierce.
“Who was the one that lashed out like a wildcat even when treated kindly…”

He had once told himself, like a wise sage, that it was just in her nature.
“It’s not that I’m uncomfortable being with you! Her Majesty invited me to stay with her tonight, that’s all.”
Truthfully, she had felt a bit awkward about sharing a room with him after the kiss.

But the Queen had thoroughly enjoyed their long conversation, and said Cynthia reminded her of her daughter whom she rarely saw due to living abroad. She had warmly suggested they sleep in the same room that night.
“…Why would the Queen make such an offer?”
From Masera’s perspective, it made no sense. How sociable was this woman?

“We talked for five hours. We’re going to continue tonight over midnight snacks. Don’t you understand that soulmate vibe when you just have to tell the same stories in more detail?”
‘Just how much can one person talk?’
As Masera stood dumbfounded, Cynthia walked up to him and lifted her eyes in mock scolding.

“Geez, you act like you hate it, but you’re the one showing separation anxiety.”
“When did I ever—”
“And no, it wasn’t an act. Everything I did was because I wanted you to like me.”

Because that was her key to survival.
Without realizing what a powerful message she had just delivered, Cynthia spun around and strode out.
“…Wanted me to like her?”

Left alone, Masera stood there, dazed, murmuring the words to himself.
Meanwhile, on her way to the Queen’s chambers, Cynthia suddenly paused ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) and looked back.
Then tilted her head, puzzled.

Getting abandoned by your wife during a honeymoon? Wasn’t it usually the other way around?
“Wait… am I the regretful female lead?”
Shrugging it off, she resumed walking with a light spring in her step.

* * *
The next morning.
Cynthia returned with a radiant face.

Despite having abandoned her husband, she looked like she’d eaten well and enjoyed herself thoroughly.
“I used a royal face mask last night—oh my gosh, it was amazing. Royal skincare is on another level! And the handmaids I gossiped with were hilarious!”
In just one day, she was back to her usual talkative self.

In contrast, Masera, who hadn’t slept well, looked slightly disheveled and dull.
“Brigadier Masera del Visente, Her Majesty has summoned you.”
Hearing the maid’s message, Masera straightened his uniform and thought to himself:

‘She’s not going to order me to stay longer, or worse—tell me to leave the princess behind, is she?’
The Queen had a habit of collecting people.
She’d made entire circus troupes, theater companies, and opera singers part of her royal roster, summoning them whenever she pleased.

Was she trying to keep Cynthia around as a court jester?
The Queen awaited Masera in the outdoor tearoom. Aside from maids and guards, no one else was present—it seemed this would be a private, sensitive conversation.
Her face was just as luminous as Cynthia’s.

“This is our first private talk since the war ended. I was looking forward to seeing you again—and you brought good news with you, it seems.”
The Queen remembered the boy soldier of fifteen who once stood before her. Now fully grown, he still had the same hollow, beautiful eyes.
He had operated as a sniper under the Federal Army and successfully completed numerous missions.

The Queen had honored him with a knightly title and formally named him a war hero.
“Thank you.”
Despite having risen from nothing, Masera never flaunted himself. If anything, he seemed rather indifferent to it all.

After the pleasantries, the Queen asked,
“Is your answer still the same regarding my offer to join Medeia? Lutemia isn’t truly your homeland, is it?”
“The country I was born in has already vanished into history. Lutemia is my biological father’s homeland—so it’s practically my own.”

The Queen gave a graceful smile at his response.
“Why did you marry the fallen princess? Wasn’t it the Bariesa royals who essentially ruined your life?”
Masera calmly met her jade-colored eyes, as if reading her intentions.

“There are nobles seeking to restore the monarchy. I married her to counter their ambitions.”
“Is that the only reason?”
Her voice grew cold.

The implication: Are you ruining another person’s life for revenge?
He knew very well that lying in front of her wouldn’t work.
“There’s no malice. But… there’s no affection, either.”

His frankness seemed to please her, and she smiled once more.
“How much do you know about your wife?”
Masera looked up from the floral teacup in front of him.

“Almost everything.”
The Queen set down her teaspoon with a smile.
“You’ve obtained a jewel you must never let go. Clever and kind people are rare.”

He didn’t deny it—he answered with silence.
With a subtle, relaxed motion, the Queen lifted her teacup.
“They say a soldier’s spouse is as crucial as a chief advisor. It’s not just a saying—keep that in mind.”

“Of course. I’m rather serious about the concept of marriage.”
The Queen, carefully watching his face, looked somewhat relieved.
“Lingering embers from the past are hollow. Treasure what you have now, and live well as husband and wife. I do have a bit of a weakness for keeping people I like close.”

She dropped a sugar cube into his tea and added,
“If you get along well with the princess, I’ll give you a reward.”
“I’m not a child, Your Majesty.”

“Yet you lit up at the sight of chocolate like a kid. You still look like the fifteen-year-old greenhorn I first met.”
Had he shown any disdain for Cynthia, the Queen would have told him to leave her behind. Cynthia was too precious to be broken over things that weren’t her fault.
But the Masera who spoke of her no longer carried the faint shadows of past hatred in his gaze.

Seeing that small but clear shift, the Queen smiled in satisfaction.
‘If Brigadier Visente thinks he can chain her by his side and use her to vent his demons for the rest of his life… then he’s chosen the wrong woman.’