TDSWM Chapter 30

Chapter 30

“You can keep me confined here.”

“…?”

“But at least, when you bring Theodore with you, I’d like you to set aside that discomfort, that dislike.”

Discomfort? Dislike?

Gerald was dumbfounded.

Even with pure, clean water—something he had never encountered in his life—and a table lavishly filled with delicious food, Sinclair had not looked at him even once. Her gaze was fixed solely on Theodore.

He understood. After all, last night he had tried to take her life.

Of course she’d dislike him. Of course she’d be afraid.

That she openly displayed her unease and dislike toward him was only natural.

As they neared Saios, the savory and sweet scents wafting from the annex made him imagine just how hard she must have bustled about to play the role of mother, even amid her busyness.

It made him miss the late Empress Stephanie. After his mother’s passing, the annex had lost its warmth. But within a single day of Sinclair entering, it was brimming with life again.

It even stirred a faint excitement in him.

When the door opened and he saw her standing in the garden, his mouth dropped open on its own.

Fragile beauty.

Her violet hair flowed softly, tied neatly with a ribbon. A slim lace dress draped her pale skin, modestly concealing her full figure.

And her waist—so slender it looked as if it might snap at the slightest touch. The memory of grasping that waist the night before—its feel in his hand, his palm—suddenly came back to him.

The sickly woman who had lain unconscious in his arms was now smiling brightly, walking toward Theodore. The sight pained him.

Her affection for Theodore was sincere.

Perhaps that was why…

Gerald, the ruler of the demon realm and the only legitimate heir of the late emperor, felt his heart’s scale tipping. No longer seeing Sinclair as merely a partner in a political marriage, but as a comrade, a lifelong companion, and as a woman.

And yet, in that sacred time they shared—

Curtis.

She had spoken another man’s name. What’s more, she had subtly asked to allow that man into their mealtime gatherings?

So that cockroach-like fellow who had told her in tears to run away—that was Curtis?

For some reason, his heart seemed to crumble at the thought.

His appetite vanished.

He had given her the annex, and now she already intended to bring her man into it?

Hadn’t she just said she would stay married until the curse was lifted? To put him at ease only to stab him in the back like this?

And yet, listening closely to her words, there had been nothing about him. Only her duty as duchess and her duty as Theodore’s mother. Always.

When others were present, she called him “my husband” so sweetly it melted his heart, but that was clearly just for appearances.

Yes, this was a marriage of convenience. She had even admitted she dreamed of divorce.

Was she using him as a steppingstone to break free from her family and start anew with another man?

And even if so—wasn’t he the one who had once held a blade to her throat? Even knowing he could kill her at any moment, she was already plotting to sneak another man into their residence the very next day?

Is that what love does to people?

Reckless, absurd, foolish, and blind.

Gerald stared at Sinclair’s bright pink eyes, glowing like neon, full of disapproval at him.

Why is she acting angry when she’s the one at fault?

Sinclair was incredulous.

What on earth was he dissatisfied about?

She had worked so hard for Theodore and for him, and now he was sitting there radiating coldness, making her efforts meaningless.

Thankfully, Theodore was seated next to Gerald and didn’t notice his gaze or gestures.

But she wasn’t so lucky. From across the table she could see him glaring at her with rebellious eyes, his face flushing red, barely touching the meat she had worked so hard to prepare.

And wasn’t this supposed to be their truce zone?

If he acted like this, didn’t it render their shared meal meaningless?

Wow, those eyes are exactly like a sulky teenager’s.

This wouldn’t do. Sinclair steeled herself.

“Duke Gerald von Zeier.”

At her soft voice, Gerald flinched as though wounded, lowering his head until his chin pressed into his chest.

Then, from his chest came—

“Haaah…!”

—a long sigh. He placed his arms on his knees and rubbed his face wearily.

Sulking, and sulking badly at that.

Sinclair bit her lower lip. Talking too much now would only stir up emotions.

She decided to use the “I-message” technique she had often used when counseling children. Keeping her emotions tightly in check.

“I was happy to share this meal with you and the young lord, the three of us together.”

Gerald gave no reply.

“But I’ve been feeling very uncomfortable. Because you hardly touched your food and kept frowning. If something displeases you, please tell me. I will gladly listen.”

At that, Gerald let out a laugh of disbelief.

Gladly listen? To what, exactly?

He decided to test her.

“Was it Curtis, you said?”

“…?”

As expected, at the mention of that name, Sinclair frowned, her eyes darting nervously.

She was thrown off by the sudden appearance of “Curtis” in the conversation.

Could it be he’s upset that I made the water purifier without permission? Or that I said I’d patent it in my name?

Hmm, so Gerald was keen on money matters after all. In that case, she decided to use every counseling strategy she knew to win him over.

“Yes. If it displeased you that I acted without permission, I apologize. But I only did so for the sake of the castle’s servants and our health. I’d be grateful for your understanding.”

She used cushioning language to reduce offense, ending with polite formality to show respect, and carefully studied his expression.

“‘Our’ health?”

Gerald was dumbfounded. She was really trying to use our as an excuse to sneak that fellow into the annex?

“Yes. I read in the reports that the servants drink beer while working. Beer is a diuretic, which makes them run to the privy often. It hurts their focus, and worse, it damages the liver and brain. I was terribly worried.”

She added evidence to make her point persuasive. And by framing it as an “I-message,” she made it sound less like a demand.

“The cost of installation will come from the internal budget I’ve been entrusted to manage thanks to your generosity, so you needn’t worry.”

She even folded her hands politely and bowed her head.

Seeing her so proactive only made Gerald more curious about the man.

“This Curtis—or Curtus—what is he? A craftsman? A trader?”

“Uh… well…”

Sinclair faltered.

She had only meant to say she bought it from a trading company. After all, wasn’t it odd that the Empire didn’t already have water purifiers?

She had rushed without thinking it through.

But she couldn’t exactly say she had ordered one from her demon subordinates either.

“He introduced himself as a trader.”

“A trader… and such a man can invent purification technology?”

“Oh, there are other ways to separate lime from water besides sparkling water or distilled water. One method uses ions for purification. I discovered the material for it in that sealed library the other day.”

“So you told this trader Curtis about the material.”

“Yes.”

Her simple reply left Gerald aghast.

So the moment she’d fled the library under his suspicion, she had run straight into her lover’s arms?

And then, on the way back, saved Theodore from being eaten by a monster bird?

He was grateful—deeply grateful—that she had saved Theodore, but hiding her man in his territory?

Gerald’s fists clenched on their own.

Shameless. Devious.

At this point, he had to see this fellow’s face with his own eyes.

“When will it be ready?”

“That, I don’t know. He said he’d do his best to hurry.”

“And how is it you met him right after discovering that substance?”

Sinclair’s lips went dry. She was never good at lying.

Fine. Better to be honest.

“The truth is, I was very frightened in the library. To actually break a seal I’d only ever heard of, to lay eyes on a forbidden text I’d only heard rumors of—it was terrifying.”

So she was going to confess?

Gerald leaned back on the sofa, crossed his legs, folded his arms, and listened intently.

“So I left and went down to the river, to cool my head.”

“Cool your head?”

“Ah… I mean, to calm my emotions. That’s when I saw a man resting up in a tree.”

“That was Curtis?”

Now Gerald was intrigued.

So Curtis had been lurking right there near the Schlezhen estate, waiting for her to emerge?

When Gerald leaned forward, Sinclair gained a bit of courage.

“Of course, I warned him. This was Schlezhen territory—he couldn’t just wander freely.”

“Warned him?”

Strange. Is Gerald using reflective listening now?

If so, did that mean he was warming to the water purifier idea?

Sinclair hurried to meet his apparent interest with enthusiasm.

“Yes. He said he was a merchant, passing through to sell goods in Caricas territory, and was resting.”

“A merchant, you say… And his trading company?”

“Brooks Trading Company.”

Gerald frowned.

Brooks?

A name he had never heard. Must be a small, insignificant firm. That explained why greedy Marquis Michael had refused to let his daughter marry him.

He felt his tension ease a little.

She hadn’t even had a proper debutante ball, so of course she’d fall for some smooth-talking peddler.

Now Gerald even felt confident he could easily separate her from such a man.

“And then?”

“And then what? When he delivers the product, I’ll allow him access to the annex.”

“I see. Did he say when?”

“He promised to expedite it as much as possible.”

So he won’t be coming anytime soon. A purifier isn’t so easily made.

After all, it had stumped countless mages, witches, and imperial engineers.

The irritation and discomfort Gerald had felt began to melt away.

“Very well. When he arrives, be sure to introduce him to me.”

Gerald emphasized the word sure.

“Of course.”

“And I’ll instruct Schmidt to file the patent under your name once it’s complete.”

What? No demand for a share of the profits? He’d even give her the patent? Then was all his anger only because she had reported it late?

“In the future, I’ll consult you before dealing with merchants. And once again, I ask: please don’t show displeasure during meals or when spending time with Theodore. This place is good. Let’s meet here when we need to talk.”

And thus, Gerald and Sinclair’s counseling room was established in the late Empress’s salon.

Later, Sinclair, Gerald, and Theodore sat together in the garden, legs stretched out, eating strawberry yogurt sorbet.

Theodore finished his dessert in an instant, and Sinclair happily offered him her portion too, smiling like a mother bird feeding her chick.

Gerald, savoring the sweet, cool sorbet melting in his mouth, was briefly—just briefly—overcome with the desire to keep Sinclair by his side.

So beautiful, so intelligent, so talented, and so loving toward Theodore—how could such a woman be captivated by some worthless man? How pitiful.

He slid his half-melted sorbet over to her.