The Tragic Male Lead Chose the Wrong Partner

* * *

On the last day, before the two of them left for the Lutemia Republic—
Seated in the audience chamber, the Queen pointed at Cynthia and said to Masera,
“Leave the princess behind.”

There wasn’t even a pinch of joking in her serious expression.
Masera looked back and forth between Cynthia and the Queen without answering.
“We’re not like that. We just slept together, that’s all.”

Thinking the Queen might be suspicious about their relationship, Cynthia hurriedly made an excuse.
Masera’s brows furrowed, and the Queen, still wearing her serious face, spoke.
“I’m joking. My daughter and granddaughter will be here soon, so you’d best get going.”

Cynthia gave the Queen a smiling glance as she saw her sly wink.
After saying farewell to the Queen, Cynthia exited the audience chamber and clung tightly to Masera’s arm, linking hers with his. She was in a very good mood, feeling they had made the most of the remaining time.
“It was fun, thanks to you. And thank you for the presents, too.”

Masera looked down at her expressionlessly.
“What did I buy you again?”
“Hey, don’t pretend! The get-well-soon cat ornament, the feng shui charm that brings in money, the Queen’s coronation commemorative plate, the Monopoly board game, the Ted teddy bear…”

Anyway, since they were all bought with Masera’s money, Cynthia kept expressing her thanks.
Like the ‘kind words to onions’ experiment, Cynthia was thinking: if Masera is frequently exposed to positive speech, wouldn’t he eventually become a kind person to me?
“Brigadier, you’re a good and kind person. You don’t even get annoyed, and you do everything you’re told.”

“Please stop with the positive brainwashing.”
Tch, acting coy even though he likes it. Cynthia smirked slyly.
Masera cleared his throat and continued.
“…I was surprised. I knew you were sociable, but I didn’t expect you to win over the Queen of Medeia.”

From the Queen, Masera had sensed a clear intent not to tolerate anyone bullying Cynthia.
He had known the Queen longer, and yet somehow, she’d taken Cynthia’s side after just a day.
“We’re business partners, remember? She’s one of your major connections, so I had to make a good impression.”

To be honest, they weren’t in love like normal couples—they had married solely for their respective goals.
‘Business partners. So that’s how she sees it.’
Masera didn’t particularly like those words. He couldn’t even say why.

[“You seem to get along well with your wife, Brigadier.”]
Just then, a graceful and composed voice in Medeian rang out from behind them.
Grand Duchess Charlotte approached the two of them with a gentle smile.

[“Makes you wonder if someone can fall in love with the person who ruined their life.”]
* * *
Cynthia looked at the Grand Duchess’s elegant yet reserved face. For some reason, she was reminded of Helene.

‘Is she speaking so openly because she thinks I can’t understand Medeian?’
Cynthia didn’t let it shake her and kept smiling.
Masera, glancing briefly at her, responded in Medeian.

[“Why do you say that?”]
[“The proposal I made you before still stands.”]
Masera’s expression remained indifferent.

[“I’m a married man now.”]
Cynthia realized the “proposal” she referred to meant marriage.
The Grand Duchess took another step closer, smiled kindly at Cynthia, and lowered her voice.

[“I’m going to reject the marriage to King Blake, citing unrequited love for you. The Queen has a weakness for that kind of story, you see.”]
The word ‘unrequited love’ made Cynthia’s heart lurch.
‘She’s just saying that to use him as a tool, but still… strange.’

The Grand Duchess held out her hand for a handshake and added:
[“It’ll be your responsibility to explain the situation in advance and avoid any misunderstandings with the princess, Brigadier. Though you might not need to. Just in case.”]
Cynthia pretended not to understand and shook her hand.

‘Wait a minute—King Blake? Isn’t he that old lecherous guy? That’s awful.’
Being pushed into marriage was the same for everyone. In this place, it was common for families to form marriage ties for mutual benefit.
Cynthia felt a twinge of sympathy and squeezed the Grand Duchess’s hand tightly.

“You were born to be loved. I hope you find freedom and happiness.”
The Grand Duchess glanced at Masera, signaling for a translation.
Masera adjusted his sleeve and replied in a detached tone.

[“She says you should hurry and leave because she’s annoyed.”]
Hey! Don’t twist my words like that! Don’t pretend I said something you wanted to say!
But Cynthia could only scream it internally. After all, she was supposed to not understand Medeian.

The Grand Duchess smiled faintly.
[“Such jokes.”]
She watched the two of them walk away.

Aside from Masera—would anyone else appear who truly recognized her worth?
“Brigadier del Visente. I need a partner who will stay loyal for life and walk beside me.”
“There will be someone worthy of Your Grace, even if it’s not me.”

“…But the princess is far too lovely to wait for a chance.”
She didn’t understand Lutemian, but she’d clearly picked out the words love, freedom, and happiness from what Cynthia had said.
* * *

At the port, by the dock.
“Hurry up! You’re so damn slow! Because of you, this is a living hell!”
A man berated a woman.

The woman, carrying large bags in both hands, was pale and gasping for breath.
It was Anita, formerly a maid of the Queensguard family.
She had been the only servant who didn’t torment Cynthia. Thanks to Cynthia’s warning, she had escaped the household and survived.

She had been hiding with her lover Hans in Medeia, but °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° now, caught for illegal entry, they were being deported back to their home country.
“Huh?”
As she headed toward the third-class cabin, Anita widened her eyes at someone walking up to the top floor—toward the first-class cabin.

It was Cynthia, dressed in fine clothing, a stark contrast to her days as a maid. She was walking arm-in-arm with a tall man in a military uniform.
“What are you dawdling for?”
Hans nudged her, and she dropped her luggage.

As Anita was bombarded with curses, she stared blankly at Cynthia.
The handsome officer had platinum-blond hair and mysterious eyes—he looked just like a prince—and was escorting her with utmost courtesy.
Then Anita noticed the parasol in Cynthia’s hand. It was the parting gift she herself had given her.

After it became known that Cynthia was the daughter of Count Queensguard, her story of marrying a dashing man and leaving felt like a romantic fairytale.
‘Cynthia’s living like a princess, unlike me.’
Anita had once believed her own life—fleeing with her beloved to build a new future—was romantic too. At least, until reality gave her a rude awakening.

Following Anita’s gaze to the first-class cabin, Hans’s eyes gleamed with greed.
“What, you know some noble? Go ask them for money.”
“No, it’s nothing.”

Anita shook her head firmly.
It would be bad if she ran into Cynthia now.
The Count had killed all the servants to hide the fact that Cynthia had grown up as a lowly maid.

If that truth were revealed, it would be dangerous for Cynthia as well. Cynthia’s warning to run and hide far away had likely been her final act of kindness.
‘If the Count finds out I’m alive… I’ll be killed.’
Instinctively, Anita rested a hand on her stomach.

Hans quietly watched her pale face, then curled his lips into a smirk.
“We’ll see once I sneak around the first-class cabin. Whether you’re lying or not.”
* * *

Anita had once thought her lover, Hans Everett, was a good man.
He was the illegitimate son of a noble and a maid. With luck, he might’ve gotten himself a leftover noble title.
She had even hoped that if she married him, she—who had lived as a maid her whole life—might become a noblewoman too.

Above all, she had felt deeply grateful to Hans for running away with her.
At least, until he got caught pretending to be a noble in Medeia and they had to flee.