The Tragic Male Lead Chose the Wrong Partner Chapter 20

Early in the morning, the Duke Lecanosa and Helene had departed for their honeymoon.

 

The Queensguard family was also preparing to leave, but Count Queensguard called Cynthia aside for a brief chat under the pretense of spending time with family.

 

“You’ve got quite the knack for charming those royal ladies. Seems like they’ve all taken a liking to you.”

 

Since the true power in the Ducal household lay with the Dowager Duchess of Lecanosa, Cynthia gaining her favor was a good thing from the Count’s perspective. Especially since stiff, aloof Helene didn’t exactly make friends easily.

 

‘She knows how to please adults, so she’d be quite useful if she were sent out into society.’

 

It was a shame that her use period was not long.

 

The Count knew that some of the servants he had placed had already died, but he didn’t bring it up. They’d been stupid enough to get caught smuggling goods out of the official residence, nothing worth interrogating Cynthia over.

 

As Cynthia nibbled on a cookie from the tea tray, she chirped,

 

“Oh, the ladies? They were surprisingly easy going once we got to talking. They are generous and kind.”

 

The complete opposite of Helene’s assessment.

 

‘Is she just naturally drawn to people? Like a walking flower field?’

 

The Count glanced at the red diamond necklace glittering around her neck.

 

‘Princess Margareta had that kind of temperament too. She once gave away a royal heirloom to a refugee woman out of pure goodwill.’

 

The Count and Princess Margareta had known each other since they were children, he was the heir of the Queensguard, the family sworn to protect the Queen, and she, the pure and naive outlier of the notorious Bariesa royal family.

 

In other words, she was the perfect person to use.

 

“Of course. I knew someone as capable as you would end up the heir of Queensguard. Oh, and my marriage has been finalized! To the second prince of a neighboring empire, no less. I don’t even know what he’s like… It’s a little sad, marrying someone I’ve never met. I wish he were a gentleman and kind as you.”

 

She hadn’t been easy to get hold of.

 

‘In the end, it took her falling from grace and breaking down for me to finally have her in my grasp.’

 

What began as pure affection toward the princess had warped into something far more twisted over time.

 

Lost in thought, the Count clenched his empty hand as if gripping something tightly.

 

He looked at Cynthia as she took a giant bite out of her oversized cookie with serious eyes.

 

“Cynthia, I’ll see you at the wedding. Keep in mind that if the marriage falls through, you’re the only one who’s going to end up loses everything

 

Even if Cynthia came clean and confessed that she wasn’t the real princess, the Count had plenty of escape routes.

 

There wasn’t a shred of proof tying her to a false identity.

 

No matter what Cynthia did, he could always spin it, say she’d been struggling with homesickness or longing for her family. It would be enough.

 

Of course, Cynthia knew the Count well enough to realize all that.

 

“There’s no way that will happen. I’m looking forward to being a wealthy officer’s wife. I don’t have to work and live comfortably. Sounds like heaven to me.”

 

She flashed a cheerful grin, as if it were the simplest truth in the world.

 

Carlos and Edford, watching from nearby, were not amused.

 

* * *

 

“Snow White, let’s be sure to see each other often.”

 

Her tone was still icy and her bearing dignified, but the Duchess Dowager had clearly come up with a pet name for me.

 

Fortunately, it wasn’t something like white sugar, flour, or rice.

 

“Yes, Madam. If it were up to me, I’d come visit every day. Now that I’m family, I’d love it if you talked to me like you do with Helene.”

 

“Then I’ll take that to mean we’ll be having tea together every day after the wedding.”

 

Madam Hills, the sharpest-featured of the group, lifted her chin with a sly smile and made a joke. 

 

Madam Verache, ever frosty-faced, chimed in next.

 

“Next spring, let’s go together to the Mackerel Sardine Festival. It’s quite the event, renowned chefs from across the continent gather to compete in mackerel-based cooking. You might even be invited as a special judge.”

 

“Really? That sounds so fun! Just hearing about it gets my heart racing!”

 

I wasn’t just saying it to be polite, I meant it. A mackerel cooking competition? How could I not go? The world had been holding something this fun without me knowing?

 

We should have chatted about that fascinating topic for at least an hour, but the harsh Maceira cut me off and politely said farewell.

 

“Meow.”

 

Just then, a plump cheese cat waddled over, winding itself around Maceira’s legs and curling its tail around him.

 

It purred adorably, so I reached out to pet it, but alas, it nimbly dodged my hand.

 

Madam Verache tilted her head.

 

“That’s strange. It usually only acts like that around people who feed it.”

 

Food? I fumbled through my pockets, but all I had were peanut candies and a tiny pinecone.

 

From the smug look in Maceira’s eyes, I was pretty sure he hadn’t gone off to build a snowman yesterday, he’d gone to seduce the garden cat.

 

“Father!”

 

I ran over to Count Queensguard, who was also getting ready to head back, and beamed up at him.

 

He flinched slightly at the word ‘Father’, then cleared his throat with an awkward cough.

 

“Cindy, what’s gotten into you?”

 

“Guess I won’t see you until the wedding. I’ll miss you.”

 

My performance as the loving daughter was award-worthy. The Count gave an awkward smile.

 

Noticing him looking uncomfortable, the Duchess Dowager chuckled behind her hand.

 

“There’s no need for formality, it’s just family here. I’m sure it’s hard to send off your precious youngest daughter, especially one you adore.”

 

“Quite so. Unlike mature Helene, this one still clings to me like a baby.”

 

The Count ruffled Cynthia’s hair with a bashful laugh.

 

On the ride home, Maceira didn’t say a word.

 

That wasn’t unusual for him, but today… something felt off.

 

Like someone who lies in bed staring at the ceiling, quietly listing out every little disappointment, until they finally decide to distance themselves.

 

I tried to make conversation like always.

 

“Do you like cats? Guess it wasn’t a snowman you were sneaking off to feed, but a garden kitty.”

 

“I don’t like cats.”

 

He replied flatly and opened a book.

 

The title of the book was ‘In-Depth Study of Cats’.

 

Not wanting to bother him further, I shut my mouth. Instead, I leaned over to peek at his book, but he subtly shifted away from me.

 

‘Coward. Trying to win the cat’s favor all for yourself…’

 

I vowed to go home and raid his study for any and all cat treats.

 

* * *

 

Since the Duke’s estate wasn’t far from the residence, the two arrived home in less than an hour.

 

However, the official residence was more crowded than usual.

 

​​Most of them were soldiers in fancy uniforms. Apparently, they’d just returned from a reconnaissance mission in a conflict zone and returned to report.

 

“Hello!”

 

Cynthia greeted them brightly, and they returned her smile.

 

But the moment they realized she was a descendant of the fallen Bariesa royal family, their attitudes changed instantly.

 

“What’s she grinning about, acting all high and mighty like some disgusting royal?”

 

“Obviously she grew up in some backwater village with no clue how the world works. Bet she doesn’t even know the crap her family pulled on the citizens.”

 

Since they couldn’t badmouth their superior officer’s fiancée out loud, the snide remarks stayed whispers. But their eyes showed their negative emotions crystal clear.

 

‘What should I do….’

 

Cynthia covered her mouth, looking troubled after seeing the soldiers’ cold reaction.

 

‘Guess everyone’s got issues with the grumpy brigadier general… Sure, leaders always hated, but still… I should be extra nice to them to make up for it.’

 

She’d just come back from being fawned over by the noblewomen, so she’d momentarily forgotten what it meant to be a hated royal family.

 

One officer in particular shot her a look of poisonous gaze.

 

‘Marriage? With that air headed girl? What a joke.’