The Tragic Male Lead Chose the Wrong Partner – Chapter 18

Author: amourtentia

‘Why?’

Maceira was lost in thought alone.

Whenever he let his guard down, things went exactly the way Cynthia wanted. One moment of distraction, and before he knew it, he’d already gone along with whatever she said.

Just like how their sudden honeymoon trip to Medeia got through.

“The youngest is much more promising than her older sister. She’s sociable, also her attitude and expression is just adorable.

“Her older sister only knows how to act stiff and formal. She’s completely useless. I honestly don’t know how she plans to survive in high society”

Cynthia understood every word spoken in Medeian between Madame Hills and Madame Verace, sisters of the former Duchess, but for now, she decided to play dumb.

Sensing that they were comparing Cynthia and herself, Helene flashed a smile and chimed in.

“They say it’s the land of gentlemen. I’d love to visit Medeia someday.”

Madame Verace, who had been in high society long enough to recognize a polite comment when she heard one, asked smoothly.

“Do you know why it is called the land of gentlemen?”

“Because they value refinement, grace, and proper manners.”

Helene answered confidently.

“Wrong. That’s not quite like that”

Cynthia pulled the corners of her mouth into a tight smile as she recalled what she’d read in a book.

The phrase was a euphemism. As the gentry class, wealthy commoners one step below nobility, rose to international prominence, Medeia became known for its sea of gentlemen in black top hats, tailored suits, and canes.

It was also not a very unpleasant remark for the old aristocrats.

“Look at her pretending to know anything.”

Madame Hills sarcastically exclaimed in Medeian, pretending to be impressed.

Cynthia raised her glass and smiled.

“You’re right, Sister. Any country that didn’t show proper respect to the Kingdom of Medeia didn’t last long. They’d even send a fleet to teach them manners.”

At the risky joke, Madame Hills and Madame Verace burst out laughing.

Count Queensguard and his two sons, not quite getting the punchline, followed along with forced laughters to save face.

Maceira didn’t laugh. He was too busy contemplating whether he really had to eat the mackarel heads buried in the pie.

“What a delightful princess.”

“I do enjoy cheerful company. Her Majesty the Queen is quite fond of jesters and mimes too, she often invites them to her parties.”

Helene couldn’t understand how Cynthia had become the center of attention.

How could an uneducated maid possibly know all this?

Even jokes require knowledge to land properly, say the wrong thing and it could come off as rude.

Trying to blend in with the cheerful atmosphere, Helene made her move.

“Cynthia. You’ve clearly studied up on Medeia. Then you must be interested in eel jelly too, right? It seems like something you’d enjoy. Want to try it?”

Helene, having already tasted the infamous dish, was convinced Cynthia would be horrified.

Eel jelly was exactly what it sounded like, chunks of eel and turning them into jelly. It looked bizarre, had an unpleasant texture, and reeked of a fishy smell.

“The one I’ve only heard rumors about? Have you tried it too, Sister?”

“Of course. Want to give it a try?”

Cynthia stared at Helene.

Helene, thinking she’d cornered her, smirked inwardly.

‘Go on, force it down and pretend it’s fine. It would be nice if you didn’t throw it up the moment you put it in your mouth.’

“No thanks. I’d rather have more of this stargazing mackerel pie. This is really delicious.”

Contrary to her expectations, Cynthia firmly refused.

Helene looked startled. She’d assumed Cynthia would agree just to please the ladies.

“Why not? I thought you liked Medea so much–”

“Taste is subjective. Sister, you don’t eat our hometown’s snow-bloom broccoli either. Does that mean you hate your hometown?”

Helene clenched her skirt, unable to come up with a response.

Cynthia shivered, just imagining the fishy taste. She had eaten enough cheap canned fish in her past life to know better. Why suffer through a bizarre dish when something delicious was right there?

The former duchess finally waved her hand.

“Helene, don’t push her. I can’t even eat that stuff. Most locals avoid it too.”

‘So she gave it to me just to mess with me?’

Helene clenched her fists, forcing a smile.

Later, Edford bravely tasted the eel jelly… then his face turned pale and he ran away.

Cynthia playfully offered some to Maceira as well.

He ate it all in silence and said.

“That’s… a flavor I’ve never encountered before.”

* * *

“Father, what on earth did you order Cynthia?”

After dinner, Helene stormed into her father’s room.

She was certain he’d instructed Cynthia to study Medeia and win over the ducal family.

“What do you mean?”

“Those picky aristocrats seem to love Cynthia.”

“Is that a problem?”

Count Queensguard shrugged his shoulders and looked genuinely puzzled.

Even if it was just a disguise, she was still his daughter for now. So if the ducal family looked favorably on her, it could only work in their favor.

“Helene, you don’t seem to be getting along with your in-laws. Including the Duke himself.”

“They already look down on me! They are strict and straightforward, and I can’t even tell if they’re joking or being sarcastic.”

Back before they came to the capital, she hadn’t known.

The Count had always said that many people were desperate to obtain royal bloodlines, and that it was incredibly valuable.

However, the value was limited to possessions, and did not lead to respectful treatment.

“They’re royal blood from a powerful nation. You should’ve tried harder to charm them. Perhaps because Cynthia had been a maid for years, she knows how to read a room and win favor. You should learn from that.”

“You want me to take lessons from a lowborn maid?”

“Servants often have excellent social instincts.”

Helene, raised like royalty and never once bowing to anyone, couldn’t stand the thought

The Count stroked his chin and said.

“Still… was she always that bold? So shameless and witty?”

“How should I know? She was just a maid, I never paid attention to her personality.”

They lived in completely different worlds. She’d never bothered to find out. So there was no way she could know her original personality in detail.

“I guess it was Brigadier General Vicente’s idea to teach her about Medeia. He must know how to live in society well, having risen from the bottom as a war orphan.”

The Count gave a lazy smile and looked at his daughter.

“We just need to make good use of the favors that our subordinates have earned through hard work. Just like we always have. You should remember what I’ve told you. That petty feelings of inferiority and jealousy will ruin you.”

Meanwhile, Carlos was drinking whiskey and thinking.

‘Custom-made dresses worth the price of a house?’

It might’ve just been for show, but his instincts as a man were telling him something.

‘There’s a possibility that the relationship between the two of them will progress.’

If they actually fell in love, Cynthia might never want to come back.

“Of course, once I get what I want, I’ll hand her right back to you. By then, you’ll be leading that grand railroad project.”

That was part of the deal the Count had proposed.

But there was one thing Carlos hadn’t even told his father.

‘No matter how I look at it, it’s too convenient to be a coincidence.’

The same thing had happened at the engagement party.

Once, he had taken Cynthia to a casino and won a fortune.

When he went back alone, he lost it all. But when he took her again, he won it back, almost like magic. Still, as if there was a limit, he could never win more than a certain amount.

Cynthia had said something meaningful, “If you use luck for gambling, you’ll lose something truly precious instead.”

“She’d better come back to me. Especially if she really is lucky.”

* * *

Night finally came.

It was time to share a bed with Maceira.

If either of them ran off now, it would ruin the entire carefully constructed image of a sweet, loving couple.

Maceira seemed to think the same.

“If I disappear now, I’ll look like a terrible fiancé who left his betrothed all alone in an unfamiliar place.”

“Exactly. And I’ll stay too. Let’s both pretend to be thoughtful people who have a lot on their minds.”

Truthfully, she didn’t want to sleep alone in an unfamiliar house either.

Once they entered the room, Cynthia stared at the bed. It was as big as a playground.

“Look at this thing! If we sleep on opposite ends, it’ll feel like we’re in separate rooms.”