TWMMFBTI C8

3. Sharing a Bed

To think I’d catch a spring cold that even dragons don’t get.

I lay in bed, effectively placed under imperial confinement, groaning in misery.

Every time I tried to do anything, people would pop out of nowhere to stop me, and in the end, I was wrapped snugly in soft blankets like a cocoon.

There’s so much to do, and of all times…

It had already been a month since I recalled the original story. That meant I had 2 years and 11 months left until my execution by guillotine.

Thinking of it as the remainder of my lifespan made my insides burn with urgency.

I need to revive the declining North as quickly as possible, turn my in-laws’ house into the strongest force, and crush all the villains.

In the original story, Schubel was the strongest being in the world after his awakening event.

He had no one to protect, nothing to worry about—so he could swing his sword at the villains without restraint.

But I was different.

And those villains aren’t exactly easy targets…

I swallowed a sigh as I recalled them.

The rulers of the Empire, the Erzel Imperial Family.

The hidden masterminds of the West, the Beatrice Ducal House.

And the ruler of the underworld, Nine-Tail.

Can I really take all of them down?

For a moment, doubt crept in—but I quickly dismissed it.

How would I know if I didn’t try? If I didn’t even attempt it, I wouldn’t have the right to regret anything.

“Of course… I’ll need to recover first before any of that.”

“What is it that you’ll need to do, my lady?”

“If you keep popping up like that, I might be able to smash you with a pillow.”

When I shot a glare at the seat beside me, Schubel let out a quiet laugh and replaced the damp cloth on my forehead with a fresh one.

“Please bear with it for now. Once you’ve fully recovered, you may do as you please—on the bed.”

“Ah, don’t sneak in weird phrasing like that!”

“I’m not sure what you mean, my lady. Would you care to explain?”

“What is there to explain?!”

I huffed, glaring at the main culprit behind my so-called “imperial confinement.”

Ever since the day Schubel shed tears, something between us had changed.

More precisely, I had started treating him more casually—perhaps even rudely.

The problem was, Schubel accepted it as if it were nothing.

At first, I had kept my distance due to the discomfort of having a husband—an unfamiliar existence—and the stark contrast between this Schubel and the one from the original story, whose personality had practically gone missing.

But now, that distance had shrunk drastically.

I feel like I’ve been pulled into something…

Even as that uneasy thought lingered, the moment Schubel smiled with those elegant eyes, all my worries vanished.

Just like now.

“Even if it’s frustrating, please endure one more day. The doctor couldn’t determine the exact cause, but said there’s a high probability the hemoptysis was due to overwork and stress. So rest is essential.”

That… he knows exactly what he’s doing, doesn’t he? He knows he’s handsome and uses it like this!

Grumbling inwardly, I eventually nodded.

The next day, I got out of bed.

After only a few days of rest, my desk welcomed me with a mountain of accumulated work.

I handled the urgent merchant guild matters first, then opened the territorial report detailing the overall state of the North.

And for a long while, I was at a loss for words.

“…What kind of Grand Duchy is this?”

Food, transportation, finances, arts, public order—

Every critical aspect of the territory was in steep decline.

I had never seen such a beautifully downward-sloping curve.

“It’d be hard to mess things up this badly on purpose.”

I let out a hollow laugh.

What baffled me most was that most of the residents sustained themselves through household handicrafts.

No matter how you looked at it, this was still a Grand Duchy—yet even essential goods like food and fabric were being produced for self-sufficiency?

Still, one saving grace is that despite this backward state, weapon engineering and metallurgy are highly developed.

If I used that properly, perhaps there was still a way to revive the North.

I stared at the report.

“This is insane.”

How was I supposed to normalize this?

Grabbing at my bright blonde hair, I sighed deeply.

Now that the Grand Ducal Castle—the root of Runein—was slowly beginning to function properly, it was time to turn my attention to the territory itself, the soil that sustained it.

A great tree that had been crouched for a hundred years would naturally need fertile land to grow again.

“What else can I do? I’ll tackle it one by one.”

Muttering to myself, I drafted order sheets to be sent to the Seton Merchant Guild branches across the Empire.

Fortunately, it was spring, so fabric wasn’t urgent.

First, I needed to fatten up the people. When granaries were full, generosity followed.

If consumers closed their wallets, the market would fall into a vicious cycle. Public sentiment was crucial.

We’ve only just started gaining momentum—I can’t let that happen.

After processing documents from guild branches across the Empire, I placed orders for supplies needed in the North.

After working for a long time, I lifted my head, my neck stiff.

As if waiting for that exact moment, the man seated across from me smiled with his eyes.

“…What are you doing?”

“You could say I’ve been waiting for when my lady would finally spare me some attention.”

I asked, unimpressed,

“Do you have nothing to do? What about the work I gave you this morning?”

“If you mean the territorial security report, it’s right here.”

My eyes widened at the neatly placed new report beside me.

When had that gotten there?

Casting Schubel a suspicious glance, I picked it up.

Determined to find at least one flaw to criticize, I examined it thoroughly.

But—

“….”

It was perfect. There was nothing to nitpick.

If he weren’t the heir to the Grand Ducal House, I would have recruited him into the merchant guild without hesitation.

As my expression soured, a soft, ticklish laugh brushed past my ear.

“You seem disappointed, my lady.”

“Be quiet.”

His voice had an oddly disarming effect—almost seductive.

I shut the report with a sharp snap.

“I appreciate this, but that doesn’t mean you can enter a lady’s room whenever you like.”

“Well… this is my room.”

That was true.

A month had passed since I arrived in Runein.

And I was sharing a room with Schubel.

No! My freedom of residence!

Except for when I was very young, I had never shared a room with anyone.

Even after marriage, I had firmly stated in the contract that I would live in the Seton main residence—but—

Unfortunately, I had personally broken that clause.

Even the butler, Vikal, had committed the outrageous act of moving all my belongings into Schubel’s room, insisting, “A married couple should naturally share a room.”

And so, Schubel’s (former) room had been reborn with the horrifying name:

“The marital bedroom.”

I spoke irritably.

“If you don’t want to hear complaints like this, we could just use separate rooms.”

Schubel ignored that and changed the subject.

“The flowers blooming in the garden today were quite beautiful. They reminded me of you.”

“What are you talking about? The garden’s been under construction for ages. What flowers?”

“As expected, my lady knows everything. Truly impressive.”

That irritated me.

“…I’ll decorate everything in hot pink with excessive frills.”

Schubel smiled brightly.

“What belongs to you is yours—and what belongs to me is also yours. Do as you please.”

What is wrong with this man?

I stared at him, dumbfounded.

Is he really the same cold-blooded protagonist from the original story?

After sharing a room for a month, one thing I realized was that Schubel was a very colorless person.

He had no particular likes or dislikes, no clear preferences, and resembled the refined noble one might find in a classical poetry collection.

But did he feel like that inhuman protagonist from the original story?

Not at all.

Look at him now.

The moment I stepped out of the room, Schubel followed right behind me.

I turned around abruptly.

He blinked in mild surprise before smiling softly.

“Why are you following me?”

“I’m worried you might collapse again.”

He looked at me with a genuinely concerned, almost innocent expression.

That cold, ruthless man… the same as this one who smiles every time our eyes meet?

Even a dog would laugh at that.

The original story was about Schubel losing everything after being falsely accused of treason and carrying out revenge against the villains.

It was, overall, a very dry and bleak story—and the protagonist himself was just as rigid and unyielding.

The novel wasn’t even finished, so I didn’t know everything about the original Schubel, but—

“My lady?”

“If you’re going to keep following me, at least carry this.”

“Yes.”

Still, I knew one thing clearly:

These two were not the same person.

In the end, I gave up trying to shake him off and let him trail behind me.

“By the way, Schubel. Don’t tell me all your clothes are in monochrome? That’s all I’ve ever seen you wear.”

“I simply prefer monochrome.”

“What a waste of such a handsome face.”

“My face is handsome?”

“Are you joking? Apologize to all the other men in the world.”

A faint floral scent drifted in through the open window.

It was a spring day.