The Tragic Male Lead Chose the Wrong Partner Chapter 30

“I feel sorry for the poor princess who will be used and abandoned.”

 

“…Is that so.”

 

Major Rodriguez responded in his usual calm voice.

 

“Seems like Brigadier General Maceira also plans to benefit from her royal status and then divorce her. The Grand Duchess of Medeia’s collateral royal line just sent over a marriage proposal.”

 

Brigadier General Steve caught a slight shift in the Major’s gaze.

 

“There are still rumors going around that the Grand Duchess is in love with the brigadier general. Guess that means she doesn’t mind a remarriage.”

 

The reason Brigadier General Steve was dropping all these hints was simple: sympathy and pity were often the sparks that started bigger fires.

 

On top of that, it was perfect when those feelings came from hot-blooded, youthful types.

 

‘Scandal, obsession, whatever it is… it’s all fuel I can use.’

 

‘Enjoy your doomed marriage, Maceira.’

 

With a lazy smile, the Brigadier General basked in the quiet satisfaction of someone who had always felt inferior to Maceira.

 

* * *

 

“Lady Cynthia, I’ve narrowed down the list of people to send the wedding invitations to… oh? You’re done already?”

 

Diego blinked in surprise. Before Diego could even explain, the invitation list was confirmed.

 

That was because Cynthia, frankly, had almost no one to invite.

 

‘I have fewer friends than a glow-worm in winter.’

 

Aside from the list from the Queensguard family, there was no one she personally wanted to invite.

 

‘I have to get to know a lot of people from now on.’

 

Cynthia wallowed in self-pity for all of three seconds before heading to the person she most wanted to be close to, Eugene.

 

As for Maceira? He was in the category of ‘someone I have to get close to if I want to survive, but I really don’t want to.’

 

“Eugene, you promised to build the frog house with me, remember?”

 

Cynthia  opened the door first and then knocked, a classic Cynthia move. as she cheerfully called Eugene.

 

Eugene, seated at his desk with a book in hand, glanced at the small fishbowl she was holding.

 

“I never made that promise.”

 

“Well, I did. You just didn’t hear it.”

 

Cynthia barged in with all the stubbornness of a child and held out the round bowl.

 

Filled with soil, aquarium decorations, pinecones, and tiny figurines, it looked more like a miniature garden.

 

“Pretty, right? The frog is sleeping inside.”

 

Eugene pretended to be uninterested, but his clear green eyes were fixed on the bowl.

 

“Next, I’m going to build a warm shelter for the cats before the cold snap hits. Are you going to do it together?”

 

“Do it with my uncle. He likes cats.”

 

“Wait… that was for real?”

 

Even on Helene’s wedding day, when he mysteriously disappeared, she had her doubts, but he really was a cat servant, huh?

 

Cynthia briefly imagined what it’d be like to build a cat house with Maceira. She tried to inject the scene with warmth and harmony…

 

“Why did you ask me to help if I’m doing all the work anyway?”

 

In her imagination, Maceira acts like the world’s grumpiest cat servant.

 

Cynthia shook off the thought with a dramatic sigh and changed the topic.

 

“Eugene, do you like books? I like books too. What are you reading now?”

 

“A book my teacher gave me.”

 

Cynthia leaned over to sneak a peek at the book Eugene was reading. It was about a bunny family competing to find the biggest carrot, harmless enough.

 

Then she spotted another book on his shelf.

 

The Snow Queen

 

‘So that’s the one Eugene was scared of.’

 

“So, um…”

 

Eugene turned to her, snapping her out of her thoughts.

 

“What is it?”

 

After a moment of hesitation, Eugene shut his book and asked.

 

“How come you don’t look like your family?”

 

A surprisingly sharp observation, kids could be so brutally honest. It was true. Her hair, her eyes, none of it matched.

 

People only talked about how the Frost Queen had white hair and red eyes. No one ever questioned her appearance, until now.

 

“You think I don’t look like them at all?”

 

Eugene pointed at the bunny illustrations in his book.

 

“Your family looks like foxes. You look like the white rabbit in this book.”

 

“Really? I must take after my mom. I don’t remember much, it’s been so long.”

 

At her words, Eugene wore a strangely mature, sorrowful expression.

 

“Do memories fade when you become an adult? I used to forget what my mom looked like… but now I remember again.”

 

According to Dalia, Eugene had been in a hospital in the province that had been devastated by the bombing.

 

He was even younger back then, and had already suffered the unbearable loss of his parents. Just like Cynthia had in her past life.

 

“How did you remember again?”

 

She asked gently, and Eugene looked straight at her.

 

The boy’s eyes were filled with complex emotions. They seemed to search for someone in her eyes.

 

“I don’t look like my mom. I wonder why.”

 

Instead of answering, he asked something else.

 

Cynthia scratched her cheek awkwardly, unsure what to say.

 

“Maybe you’ll figure it out when you grow up? You’re this cute, must have gotten that from your mom.”

 

Eugene pouted but started fiddling with the fishbowl on the desk.

 

No one knew anything about Eugene’s parents, except that they were victims of the bombing.

 

‘Still, he must’ve been raised with love.’

 

Cynthia could tell just by looking at his pale, spotless hands.

 

She had seen too many kids forced into hard labor from the moment they could walk.

 

Cynthia was one of them; her hands, rough and scarred beneath her silk gloves, proved it.

 

Then she remembered what Dalia once said:

 

“I tried to track down his relatives, but whenever I brought up his parents, he would shut down completely. I decided not to push, it seemed like it was still too painful.”

 

But now Eugene was talking about his mom. Maybe… just maybe, he was beginning to open up.

 

Encouraged, Cynthia handed him a wedding invitation.

 

“Here. You’re the first person I’m giving this to, you know.”

 

Eugene accepted it, looking over it briefly, and putting it down.

 

He was clearly being a little brat on purpose, but Cynthia didn’t mind.

 

“See the flower on the cover? Only special people get this version.”

 

Eugene, who had been acting indifferent, slowly looked at her.

 

‘Is she really a bad person? I don’t get it.’

 

The question swirled in his mind.

 

He didn’t understand why people spoke so harshly about those with white hair.

 

His tutor, Hayden, had warned him not to fall for their kind smiles.

 

That once Cynthia married Maceira and became the lady of the house, she would show her true colors.

 

‘Is she really going to throw me out someday?’

 

Eugene liked Cynthia’s warm smile, but it scared him too.

 

“The child’s mother had white hair and blue eyes? Then I’m sorry, but we can’t take him.”

 

“If we keep treating him here, something bad might happen to us too. My friend helped a fugitive Essatian and got sent to a camp.”

 

Alone in the ruins of the province, Eugene had already heard those words before.

 

That was why, even with Maceira, the person he trusted most, he never once spoke about his mother.

 

“This invitation…”

 

He opened his mouth, then shut it again. The words ‘thank you’ caught in his throat.

 

“It’s ugly.”

 

So instead, he lashed out in the only way he knew.

 

“Huh? You think the invitation is ugly?” 

 

Cynthia blinked, flipping it over to check for flaws.

 

Still just a kid, Eugene didn’t yet recognize that the unfamiliar warmth drawing him to her was longing.

 

* * *

 

Cynthia personally delivered the special invitations to the duchess and the people at the residence.

 

She tried to deliver one to Major Rodriguez, but he hadn’t visited the residence since, so she had no choice but to send it to his address.

 

Time passed. 

 

The day of Cynthia and Maceira’s wedding arrived.