Prologue
The grand hall shimmered with opulence.
Ladies and gentlemen of high society mingled in small clusters, dancing or exchanging polite chatter. Their conversations were trivial, yet their gazes repeatedly drifted toward a single figure.
“Oh my, that necklace… it must be an Orteza diamond that sold for four million gold!”
“Good heavens, I heard Madame Ouar closed her atelier for a whole month just to craft that gown. It was worth every bit. Simply exquisite…”
Their eyes were fixed on a woman who stood on the terrace like a painting, enjoying the breeze.
Her hair, meticulously styled, gleamed in the light. Her attire was elegant, her skin immaculate, and her eyes—long, beautifully set—were captivating.
Above all, it was her crimson, lustrous hair and sharp, intelligent green eyes that drew attention.
“Was Baron Ailan always this beautiful?”
“I had no idea. Ever since she turned seventeen, she dressed in worn clothes like a commoner.”
“I always thought she was just some poor girl running around borrowing money…”
For the entirety of the gathering, the conversation swirled around Judith Ailan—no, Judith Meyus. And understandably so; her movements were undeniably intriguing.
Judith Ailan had been a fallen noble, a lonely orphan left with nothing but debt. Her family had been modestly comfortable in her childhood, but everything changed when her father’s business collapsed. At seventeen, he took his own life, leaving Judith destitute.
Her mother abandoned her, fleeing in the night with whatever meager belongings she could carry, leaving young Judith to inherit only a mountain of debt and the baronial title.
Judith had attempted to borrow money from friends, but the debt was insurmountable. She was occasionally seen seeking work in tattered clothing and, in time, she was forgotten—lost amid the endless misfortunes of others that did not touch their own lives.
But now…
“Wait a moment. We shouldn’t call her Baron Ailan anymore.”
“You’re right. Then… should we say ‘Marchioness Meyus’?”
A few days prior, she had reappeared amid a storm of rumors: she was said to be carrying the child of the missing Marchioness Meyus.
The problem was that the Marchioness had been missing for years. Yet the Meyus household had publicly recognized the matter.
Judith’s womb carried unmistakably Meyus blood. Though the young marquess remained missing, she was officially acknowledged as part of the family.
Without a groom present, no wedding had occurred, but Judith had been welcomed into the ducal household.
“Shall we ask her how she met the marquess and charmed him…?”
“Could it really be Meyus’s bloodline? He’s been missing for five years, after all.”
“But the Duke himself confirmed it directly, didn’t he?”
“Perhaps it’s a scam. Suddenly she claims the marquess’s child, yet he hasn’t appeared. I mean, even if the Meyus family announced it, it’s hard to believe…”
“I’m curious, but I can’t ask. Last time she borrowed money from me, I ignored it…”
Then, it happened.
“Everyone.”
A voice, cold as ice, cut through the murmurs.
“Why are you all talking so much about my daughter-in-law?”
The gossiping ceased immediately.
“Who dares speak ill of my daughter-in-law, whom the Meyus family has recognized?”
Through the crowd strode the Duchess of Meyus herself—a woman notorious for her extravagant indulgence and temper.
Her platinum hair was elegantly pinned, and though she was breathtakingly beautiful, her expression was as sharp and unyielding as falling ice.
The Meyus family was an ancient noble house, feared even by the imperial court. Notorious for their conflicts with the crown, their power remained untouchable.
The Duke of Meyus was infamous for his ruthlessness, and the duchess was equally formidable. Their nerves had only grown sharper since their eldest son disappeared five years ago.
“Perhaps you find the Meyus laughable,” she said, fanning herself with a flourish, “to mock our daughter-in-law, carrying Meyus blood.”
Her chilling tone silenced everyone. One thing was clear: the Duchess cherished her formerly destitute daughter-in-law, solely for carrying her missing son’s bloodline.
It seemed her care was thorough, if unconventional. She had taken Judith, who had lived like a tenacious commoner, and transformed her from head to toe.
“Come along, dear,” the Duchess said, approaching Judith herself.
“The Duke will be waiting. You have no time to waste with trivial people. Even the child inside you must be ready to rest.”
Judith smiled shyly and fell in step beside her, brushing the unnoticeable swell of her early pregnancy.
Inside the carriage returning to the Meyus estate.
“Now the rumor in society is firmly established,” said the Duchess, Isabella Meyus, arms crossed, her tone imperious.
“That you carry Ekian’s child, and that we personally verified the Meyus bloodline and recognized it.”
“Yes,” Judith replied, sitting upright and smiling faintly.
“Then there will be no proceeding with the marquess’s death declaration. I’ve made myself visible.”
In fact, the Duke and Duchess were co-conspirators in this ruse. Legally her in-laws, practically her employers.
“Hmph.” Isabella sniffed, letting her gaze sweep over Judith from head to toe. Judith, sensing the underlying kindness in her stern inspection, spoke obediently:
“I used everything sparingly. Once we return, the jewelry and dresses will be returned immediately…”
“You’re insane!” Isabella snapped, cutting her off. “Do you think we’d let Meyus take it back? It suits you well—just keep it!”
“What?”
“Even if it’s by contract, she’s our daughter-in-law. Can’t we do this small thing for her? See how lovely the pastel dress looks on you! Tomorrow, we’ll make another just like it!”
“Yes… yes.”
“Even a fake pregnant woman is far too thin! Eat well as soon as we arrive!”
Judith noticed the concealed warmth beneath Isabella’s commands and nodded, smiling. After years under crushing debt, she was finally indulged. All thanks to recalling her previous life and cunningly manipulating the original story.
‘Being a fake contract bride in a villainous household—it’s actually wonderful!’
In a few months, she planned to announce her divorce along with inheriting the estate. According to the original story, her husband, Ekian Meyus, would never return.
‘Even if temporary, I’ll enjoy these months. Everyone’s kind, after all.’
Everything was unfolding according to Judith’s plan.
At least, until late that night, as she and Isabella arrived at the estate, everything changed.
“You’re late,” a deep, languid voice split the sultry summer air like lightning.
“Mother,” Judith heard Isabella greet, and behind her stood a young man, dark against the night, smiling with effortless grace.
“E-E-Ekian?” Isabella gasped, seeing her long-missing eldest son for the first time in five years.
“Ekian, you…”
The sculpted, coldly handsome man offered a faint smile to the stunned Isabella, then turned his piercing gaze to Judith.
“And you must be…”
Judith froze.
Ekian Meyus, legally her husband, but a stranger in every sense. According to the story, even if his pregnant wife appeared, he would never return. Yet now his red eyes surveyed her leisurely, as if tasting the sight.
“I presume you are my wife,” he said slowly, folding his arms.
“And carrying my child.”
