Chapter 10
A few days ago, on the night I returned from the merchant group—
I sat quietly in my room, reflecting on what had happened earlier that day.
“What business do you have with my fiancée?”
That broad back, standing protectively in front of me.
“She’s under my ‘family’ authority now.”
That large hand that caught the fist swinging toward me.
“You looked cold.”
The gloves he handed me — far too big for my hands, yet filled with warmth. I returned them quickly, feeling something might change if I kept wearing them…
“Mm…”
Just recalling the warmth around my hand made my heart feel soft.
I immediately thought:
‘I need to get a grip.’
Good grief, Evely. Is this the time to be acting like this?
When you should be spending every minute thinking of how to get back at the fake family who treated you like a housemaid and sucked you dry.
“Ughh…”
Even when I scolded myself harshly, the image of the Duke kept popping into my head, so I changed tactics.
‘Right. The more you try not to think of an elephant, the more you do.’
Might as well analyze this properly. Why am I so shaken?
Is it because I’ve never dated in this life?
Well, noble ladies can’t afford any scandal before marriage — that’s just society.
Is it because Duke Ibernum is too handsome?
Sure, maybe. But being this flustered? It’s not like I met a celebrity and fangirled. This feels different.
I tapped my fingers and came to a conclusion.
“The suspension bridge effect! That’s it.”
Mhm. Makes sense. Today’s events were dramatic.
When Chiavil raised his fist…
Any remaining expectations I had for the family I once loved — even if they were just scraps — evaporated.
‘So now it’s violence too, huh.’ That thought left me totally deflated.
“And just then… someone reached out to me in the name of ‘family’.”
It’s textbook, really.
The classic male lead rescuing the heroine from bullies.
“A prince on a white horse. The oldest romance cliché.”
Yes. A classic, irresistible charm. As a romance fan, I loved that kind of trope.
So being briefly shaken? Totally understandable.
‘But I need to keep my head on straight.’
To make sure I never forget, I muttered to myself:
“What happens when you blindly trust the hand that reaches out when you’re weak? You already learned that lesson.”
Yeah. I learned it the hard way. Courtesy of the family I had in this life.
“What? The beloved youngest daughter of the whole family? Pfft. You actually believed that crap rumor?”
The voice that flashed through my mind soured my mood.
“Hmph. I’ll pay you back for everything, fake family!”
Trying to shake off the icky feeling, I vowed aloud, then lay down to sleep.
The bedding, befitting a duke’s household, enveloped me like feathers. I closed my eyes tightly — it was late, time to sleep…
“Wait, but!”
Just as I was drifting off, a memory popped into my head and I shot up, kicking off the blankets.
Ugh. Why do things always come back so vividly when you’re trying to sleep?
“Would you normally go that far for a business partner? Am I just imagining how overly nice he’s being?”
I mean, come on.
This is a contract marriage. Once we stamp the paperwork, he gets all the medicine I promised.
Right? There’s nothing in the contract that says, “Protect the poor abused contract bride and treat her kindly.”
The Duke has nothing to gain — why be so considerate?
“That’s suspicious behavior!”
I mumbled, then shook my head.
Okay. Let’s redefine what’s going on between me and the Duke.
Maybe it’s a little unbalanced — sure, the papers are signed, so I’m not backing out — but still, we’re just two parties in a mutually beneficial contract marriage.
“A clean business relationship.”
But in contract marriage stories, don’t they always end up falling in love?
“…”
Just as I started to listen to the sweet whispers in my heart, another memory rudely interrupted.
Back when I thought I was the protagonist of a heartwarming childcare novel…
Hot chocolate delivered every night, seemingly caring gifts from a cold father, jealous older brothers who didn’t like me hanging out with other friends.
‘Turns out the hot chocolate was made by the head maid, the gifts were cheap rejects dumped on me, and my brothers were jealous because high-ranking nobles were interested in me — not out of affection, but pride.’
I had countless memories of being lured in by fake “warm family moments” only to be crushed.
“My dream of a warm family story… was ruined.”
Gone. Crushed.
With dry eyes, I relived the memories — and then, the next morning, I went to see the Duke.
“Do you happen to like me?”
Yes. The root of all misunderstandings — lack of communication.
As soon as I blurted out the question, all the confusion in my mind cleared up.
Of course, unlike me, the Duke — hearing something so random first thing in the morning — probably had a million thoughts racing. But hey, he was the one leaving mixed signals.
“What?”
“I know it’s an odd question, but I’d appreciate an answer to avoid any possible miscommunication.”
The Duke’s red eyes definitely looked more dumbfounded now, but I didn’t back down.
“Did you fall in love with me at first sight or something? Or maybe you just felt some fated connection?”
“My lady…”
He stared at my face for a moment, then calmly said:
“Your confidence is… impressive.”
“…”
Damn it.
I felt my cheeks heat up. Still, I persisted — determined to clear up every bit of confusion.
“So, that’s a no, right?”
“Correct.”
The Duke smirked and asked:
“Where on earth did you get that idea?”
“Well, yesterday… you personally came instead of sending a knight…”
“That was the most effective approach.”
“…”
“A negotiation goes best without variables. Do you think a mere knight could’ve handled the Count’s resistance?”
“Well… if it’s a knight from the Duke’s household…”
“You really hold our family in high regard.”
“…Because it’s Ibernum.”
Feeling the Duke’s amused gaze, I grumbled internally.
What’s with that smug tone? And that subtly raised corner of his mouth?
I thought he was the serious, reserved type. But Duke Ibernum… he’s not exactly what he seems.
As I vented silently, I thought:
‘Phew. Still, it’s better than misunderstanding things.’
My face might’ve turned red, but better a brief moment of embarrassment than secretly obsessing over false hope.
With that, I spoke again, refreshed.
“If you do ever come to like me, please let me know right away.”
“…”
“So I don’t get confused.”
Before those red eyes could tease me again about my confidence, I hurried to add:
“Until then, I’ll assume you don’t like me.”
“…So.”
The Duke, staring at me with an unreadable expression, smoothly changed the subject.
“Was that why you asked for a meeting today?”
As if.
Now it was time to get to the real reason I came. I quickly took a sip of tea to soothe my throat.
I couldn’t afford to sound shaky while making a serious proposal.
“You wanted to confirm whether I had feelings for you?”
“Cough!”
Seriously? Who throws a surprise question like that while someone’s drinking?
I coughed violently, glaring at him in my mind.
‘Now I sound like some delusional love-sick idiot!’
“I was curious, yes…”
Sure, I wanted confirmation. But that’s not the main reason I asked to meet him this morning.
“There’s an issue we need to agree on.”
“An agreement?”
“Yes. About our public reason for marriage.”
I cleared my throat once more, trying to hide my embarrassment, then spoke as casually as possible.
“Can we just say we fell in love?”
“Fell in love?”
The way the Duke repeated those words — his lips curled slightly.
‘…Does he not like that?’
Feeling cautious, I chose my next words carefully.
“Even if it’s not true, I thought ‘love’ would be the most suitable public reason.”
“…”
“The real reason — you becoming my temporary husband, me giving you the medicine — it’s better if no one finds out, right?”
The Duke should agree. His one weakness — he’d want it kept secret.
“So we need a convincing cover story to hide the truth.”
A smokescreen.
The Duke seemed to understand, finally speaking again.
“But why that particular reason?”
Of course. A proper Northern Duke would probably choke on the word love.
Trying to ease the tension, I responded confidently:
“Because love justifies any irrational action.”
“…”
The Duke’s expression twisted again, but he didn’t argue. I took that as half-agreement and pressed on.
“Even if you marry someone from a family you used to hate, everyone will just assume it’s a case of passionate love.”
“…”
“Last season alone, there were two elopements in the social scene.”
Right. Love.
No matter how foolish someone acts, love can always be the reason.
Even me marrying into House Ibernum, who the Singkere family declared enemies — if it’s ‘for love,’ people might click their tongues, but no one will call it impossible.
“They’ll just say, ‘Another foolish young couple,’ like always.”
Just like they always do in the social circles.
“So if we say we married for love, hardly anyone will dig for the real reason.”
The Duke’s weakness stays hidden — perfect.
I added a subtle ‘see how considerate I’m being’ vibe to my gaze, and it seemed he picked up on it.
“Very well.”
“Oh! So, you mean…”
“Let’s go with that.”
His gaze felt a bit sharp for some reason, but—
He gave a clear answer to my request.
“A rushed marriage after falling in love at first sight. I’m the suitor head-over-heels for the lady.”
“Thank you!”
He still spoke in that clipped, formal way, but I got everything I needed.
‘Hehe. Saying he fell for me first makes things much easier.’
Even “we fell in love” is enough, but portraying him as so smitten he rushed into marriage?
That was perfect for me.
‘Don’t worry, Duke. I won’t let your pride suffer!’
