Chapter 38
“Don’t you want a wife who is noble and untainted, rather than a young lady ruined by scandal and a damaged reputation?”
Even in this situation, Dalia carefully framed the stubbornness of a capricious young lady who wanted to preserve her dignity.
Every time the consort whom Shirei had kept closest to him barged into his house and acted obstinate like this, he had compared her with Dalia—who had no sense of amusement—with a sense of pleasure.
“So, at least in front of others, you should treat me that way.”
Shirei’s eyes, which had been about to harden, showed a flicker of curiosity as Dalia continued speaking.
“You’re right. Not as foolish as I expected.”
“……”
“I picked a better bride than I thought.”
The phrase “picked well” was familiar. Even if it was a cold evaluation, it was the greatest compliment Dalia could have heard in her past life during her married life with him.
Suppressing a shiver inside, Dalia forced herself to maintain a composed expression.
“Bring me the clothes and accessories I originally wore. And the maid who serves me as well.”
“……What?”
“So you expect me to put on my clothes in front of you without any assistance?”
Why shouldn’t she? Were all noblewomen this particular?
For a moment, a hint of hesitation over whether to indulge this absurd demand passed across Shirei’s face.
‘Well, that lady must act like a noblewoman. That’s what gives her value. Even her obedient appearance at the wedding needs to be shown to others.’
Having made up his mind, Shirei picked up the fireplace poker and knocked three times on the door. It was a signal for his subordinates.
A short while later, clothes and accessories—especially the watch Dalia needed most—were placed in front of her.
“There’s no maid. Just put them on.”
“No maid at all?”
Dalia deliberately put on a displeased expression.
Her request to be attended to instead of dressing alone was clearly meant to make Shirei drop his guard. As expected, his face showed clear signs of annoyance.
She was essentially demanding a woman to stay close and watch over her, and it seemed Shirei finally abandoned whatever remaining suspicion he had.
“Not leaving? How can you… put on clothes without a maid while I’m watching?”
Dalia raised her hands and wrapped herself up, looking utterly humiliated in front of Shirei.
“Such fuss.”
Shirei looked up at the ceiling and let out a hollow laugh at her behavior.
‘Annoying, but the crown prince would probably like this attitude. I’ll hand her over to him right after the wedding. Once the prince loses interest, I’ll properly educate her my way.’
Concluding his thoughts, Shirei finally picked up the coat he had thrown to her and put it on himself.
“Fine. Go ahead. I don’t particularly want to flaunt a woman’s body to my subordinates either. Make sure you dress properly by yourself.”
To Shirei, unaware that Dalia was living her second life, she simply appeared as a spoiled young lady unwilling to marry a man of lower status.
‘Being the daughter of Count Bourbon, she’s vain and proud, so of course she cares about appearances.’
But the moment the door slammed shut, Dalia dropped the facade from her face.
Once she confirmed Shirei’s footsteps fading, she moved without hesitation.
‘I can’t hold out for long.’
Using her watch to stop time, she quickly threw on a light outer layer, broke the nailed window with the poker, and squeezed herself through the small opening. It took only a moment for her to emerge onto the street.
Shirei would return soon, and wherever she hid, he would reach her quickly. Moreover, the darker the alley, the more dangerous it would clearly be.
‘I can’t rely on this for long. I need to move as quickly as possible.’
Swallowing hard, Dalia closed the watch. As the ticking resumed, time began to flow again.
The accumulated fatigue and the side effects of the watch made it difficult to even stand upright. Dizziness swirled in her head. She forced her eyes open as she stepped out of the shadows.
Her trace, which should have been revealed had she not left the city, had gradually faded outside the boutique and then abruptly vanished somewhere.
Since physical tracking was impossible, he would need to deploy a denser magical net to trace her mana.
‘Damn it.’
Focusing on detecting the faint force that must be trickling somewhere required full concentration. But the fear he was feeling for the first time in his life kept gnawing at him.
“Khalid.”
Just calling his name, she had brought him happiness he had never imagined—but he painfully reminded himself that she was a finite human being.
A fragile existence that could die from even a minor accident.
Suppressing the rising anxiety, he executed a precise search spell again. His fingertips barely sensed something.
Following the search spell frantically, he saw her limping out of a dark alley into a sunlit street.
Her eyes, scanning around in disarray, met his. Exhaustion gave way to surprise and relief.
“…Dalia.”
Why was she so light? His hands trembled slightly as he hurriedly scooped her up.
“You found me… thank you.”
Khalid buried his face in her hair as she muttered weakly, unable to resist. Exhausted, Dalia lost consciousness in his arms. Feeling her steady breathing, Khalid lifted his head a moment later, overwhelmed with relief.
He would find the one who had left her like this and tear them apart—or at least make them beg for death.
“Mm…”
But for now, her safety came first.
Alerted by her voice in sleep, Khalid disappeared from the street in an instant.
“…What did I just see?”
The old gang, guided by Shirei’s orders and leading Hanson into a rigged gambling den, rubbed their eyes at the sudden disappearance of the two in front of them.
They had rushed into the streets to catch Dalia following Shirei’s instructions after discovering the broken window.
“She couldn’t have gone far… If we fail, fingers will fly one by one.” How could they find someone who had vanished like smoke?
“Damn it… even if I tell them, they won’t believe me anyway…”
He had only joined because Shirei, claiming to be some big shot from another neighborhood, was spreading money around, and he wanted to get a share.
“This is going to be a headache.”
‘Should I just hide until the outsiders leave and things calm down?’
But the reward for Dalia’s capture was too high to do nothing.
The hawk-faced thug racked his brain.
Since Hanson had asked about a female client at the boutique, they could find clues if they captured either his wife or the timid boutique employee, Bisil.
“Wait, where did that courtesan’s brother live again?”
If it was Mielle’s house, it would be somewhere in the old town. Ahmad’s old town was shabby enough that even a death wouldn’t draw much attention—a playground for thugs like him.
“This is a big job, gotta make a profit. Might even taste blood for the first time in a while.”
Recently, Ahmad had been unusually peaceful, with little occurrence of murder, kidnapping, or other major crimes.
‘Those times were fun.’
The hawk-faced man licked his lips and began gathering his similarly situated cohorts.
While Shirei raged, the gang soon headed toward Mielle’s neighborhood.
“Mielle? Ah, that tailor.”
“I’ve seen him on the streets often. He seems well off now.”
Mielle, a tailor who rarely saw sunlight, had pale skin and a vacant expression. Recently, he had been seen whistling in the streets or buying large amounts of materials after bargaining with distant merchants—news that spread quietly through the neighborhood.
“Oh, right. That tailor. Hanson said he got lucky with a rich, foolish noble customer.”
“Really? Ahmad still had such a big target?”
One of the men nudged Hanson, who had been nervously hanging around the gang.
“Hey, Hanson. Tell us.”
“Y-yes…”
Hanson, who had appeared late and stayed unusually quiet, now trembled, though the gang didn’t pay him much mind.
“Anyway, let’s go to that guy’s house.”
“Right. Hanson, you know the address, right? Lead the way.”
“Y-yes?”
“I’ve been asking. Where exactly does Mielle live in this neighborhood?”
“…Mielle?”
Hanson, initially dazed by the gang’s impatience, snapped to focus. The confusion he felt over his unpunishable crime quickly turned to anger.
“Yeah. This is all his fault.”
“What are you talking about? Where’s your weapon?”
“Weapon?”
“Did you suddenly become stupid? I mean something to use as a weapon. You’re empty-handed.”
“Oh.”
Hanson looked at his hands in confusion and then around. He picked up the poker by the small shop door and gripped it tightly, as if it were a lifeline.
“Hanson, why are you using someone else’s poker? Use the one in your shop!”
The shop owner ran out grumbling. But seeing Hanson sling the poker over his shoulder and the menacing crowd around him, his spirit deflated.
One thug stepped beside Hanson and smirked at the shop owner.
“Old man, got a problem?”
The shop owner tried giving Hanson a pleading look but hesitated and stepped back when he saw Hanson’s vacant eyes.
“Uh, j-just, uh… keep it safe and return it later…”
The gang, pleased with themselves, advanced. Watching Hanson and the group, the merchants whispered among themselves.
“Tch, I thought Hanson would straighten up after meeting Sylvia.”
“Must’ve been brief. Old habits die hard. Someone who made a living as a thug won’t change.”
“Anyway, poor Sylvia, such a good girl, ended up with a rogue. I feel sorry for her.”
“But isn’t Sylvia partly at fault for marrying knowingly?”
“Don’t be silly! She’s just skilled with her hands, but can’t read people.”
“You’re right!”
For the merchants, criticizing someone unpleasant and gossiping about another’s misfortune was a rare fresh topic in their otherwise monotonous lives. Today, their chatter lingered longer than usual.
