Chapter 3
Eve stared at the man in front of her with utter disbelief. No matter how she looked at his eyes, nose, or mouth, he was definitely her husband, Arsen. With his annoyingly handsome face, there was no way she could forget him.
But how in the world could he eat silver codfish? And so elegantly at that?
When their eyes suddenly met—Arsen gazing at her as if he’d been doing so for a while—he flashed her a gentle smile. Eve almost threw up on the spot.
“You should eat too, Eve.”
“…What?”
Eve blinked in confusion. Arsen smiled at her casually, looking exactly like the hateful man she knew. Yet—
‘Eve? Since when did he start calling me that so sweetly?’
Had he gone mad from eating silver cod?
In all the years of their over-five-year marriage—no, in the over twenty years they’d known each other—Arsen had never once called her “Eve.” To him, she had always been “Yvonne.” And now suddenly, it was “Eve”?
Was he pretending to be close in front of the bishop? Eve was dumbfounded.
‘This sly bastard.’
“You two seem very close,” said Bishop Benedict. “There used to be a sense of distance between you, but a harmonious household surely pleases the Lord.”
Arsen, apparently unbothered, gave the bishop a relaxed smile. The only one bursting with fury was Eve.
She glared sharply at Arsen, but he tilted his head in feigned innocence. That infuriated her even more, and she set down her utensils.
“Have you finished eating already, Duchess?” the bishop asked with a hint of displeasure. Until now, she had always forced herself to eat for the sake of appearances.
But Eve, no longer needing to put up a front, replied curtly, “Yes. I’m feeling unwell.”
Because of someone.
As she mumbled to herself, Arsen suddenly spoke.
“I apologize. As you know, my wife has always been frail. I’ll eat the rest for her.”
“…What?”
Eve stared at him in shock. A noble eating someone else’s leftovers? That was unheard of. Even Bishop Benedict, who abhorred food waste, looked visibly stunned.
‘What is wrong with him today?’
Eve was thrown into confusion. Was he really that desperate to impress the bishop?
Arsen had always gone on about the importance of the duchy’s success, but never actually cared about its governance or public affairs. Yet today, something about him felt fundamentally off.
“My wife already had some, so what does it matter? Don’t worry, Bishop. Didn’t the Lord value frugality?”
“Haha… Truly, the Duke of Fontaine is different.”
He even spoke smoothly, like his tongue was coated in oil.
Sure, Arsen was good at twisting things to his advantage, but where he used to come off like a con man, today he seemed clever and full of charm.
With the bishop fully satisfied, the meal ended perfectly—completely contrary to Eve’s plan.
As even the servants looked pleased, Eve turned abruptly toward Arsen with a scowl.
“We need to talk.”
Arsen tilted his head and smiled softly. “Of course, my lady.”
That unfamiliar term—“my lady”—and the formal speech made Eve frown as she led the way to her room.
Once inside, with the door closed behind her, she turned to see Arsen awkwardly standing at the entrance, not even coming close. She didn’t bother questioning it.
“When did you start being able to eat silver cod?”
“…What?”
“You couldn’t eat it, even a few months ago.”
“Ah.”
“And now you’re eating my leftovers too?”
Arsen looked genuinely puzzled, as if he had no idea what she was talking about.
Impossible. Watching him closely, Eve spoke firmly.
“If you’re going to suffer, now’s the time. I don’t care if you throw up or pass out.”
She didn’t care about the bishop anymore—if nothing else, she wanted to see Arsen in pain. But unexpectedly, he stood there casually and then spoke in a way that struck her nerve.
“Are you… worried about me?”
“…What? Me? I…”
Eve was about to snap back—‘Why would I be worried?’—but stopped herself. It was better if Arsen remained clueless until she completed her revenge.
So she put on the same pitiful expression she’d often used in the past.
“Of course… I was so anxious something might happen.”
“Really?”
“Are you feeling alright? Any pain in your stomach?”
Feigning concern, she approached and checked him over. But Arsen gently stepped back with a warm smile.
“I’m fine, don’t worry, Eve. But it’s nice to know you care. Maybe I should’ve pretended to be sick.”
Oh, dear Lord. Eve inwardly gagged but forced a smile.
“I see. That’s a relief. Well, I’ll be off. I have a lot to do.”
She couldn’t bear it any longer and quickly left the room, hoping work might distract her from this nauseating feeling.
But no—she soon felt someone following her. Turning, she saw Arsen trailing behind like a shadow.
When she stopped, he did too, flashing that same annoying smile. Eve really wanted to punch that perfectly handsome face.
‘Why does he keep smiling like that? It’s creepy.’
“What is it, Arsen?”
She asked calmly, as a proper noblewoman would. Arsen responded leisurely.
“You said you have a lot to do, right?”
“…Yes?”
“Then some of it must involve the duchy, and that means I have work too.”
‘Which, let’s be honest, is all mine anyway.’
Eve thought bitterly. Arsen never handled his own duties, so his sudden sense of responsibility startled her.
That fish must have been cursed. She’d have to ask Claire what she put in it.
“You’re a busy man. With all your ‘external affairs.’ I can handle the internal matters just fine. Don’t trouble yourself.”
Of course, “external affairs” was a euphemism. Arsen was always out womanizing, yet insisted the duchess handle everything at home. Eve was deliberately calling him out—Go ahead, cheat like you’re good at. I’ll handle the real work.
But today, Arsen didn’t back down.
“Today, I’d like to focus on ‘internal affairs,’ my lady.”
“Would you stop calling me that!”
Eve snapped, then caught herself. The emotional strain was making her slip. Playing the obedient wife to a man she’d once planned to divorce—who’d betrayed her—wasn’t easy.
Especially when, just yesterday, she had died after discovering the truth.
The more she accepted that she’d returned to the past, the more her feelings of betrayal and rage intensified. And Arsen’s strange behavior wasn’t helping.
She quickly forced a change in tone.
“…‘My lady’ sounds a bit distant. We’ve been friends since childhood, remember?”
‘And you betrayed me, that so-called friend.’
Eve clenched her fist, trying to suppress her anger.
“Ah.”
Clueless as ever, Arsen nodded with a bright smile.
“Eve, then. I’ll call you Eve.”
“…”
“It’s a beautiful name.”
One of Eve’s eyebrows twitched. ‘Is this how you used to flirt with women?’ Her expression said it all, but Arsen clearly didn’t catch on.
With a sigh, she turned away.
“Anyway, I can handle the work alone. You go do whatever it is you usually do.”
With that, she strode off, leaving Arsen standing there. He simply watched her shrinking figure with a cryptic smile.
***
“This matter is resolved. Next is the tax reform proposal…”
While flipping through documents in her office, Eve paused. Her aide, Philip, explained.
“Due to the reduced national budget, there’s a suggestion we adjust accordingly. Also, the increased wine distribution has helped stabilize the territory’s operations.”
“I see. Then we’ll need to set new adjustment standards.”
The current emperor was a fairly competent ruler. He introduced many policies for the people, and excelled in both diplomacy and defense.
His only flaw was his lack of interest in women—he hadn’t taken an empress yet. There were many rumors, but Eve wasn’t particularly interested.
Her only goal now, having returned from death, was revenge.
‘But my target for revenge is acting… strange. What’s going on today?’
Lost in thought, Eve went silent, prompting her aides to exchange glances. Then suddenly, someone pointed at the document.
“Let’s deduct based on this year’s harvest. More harvest, less tax. Less harvest, more support. It’s fairer than basing it on land size or family count.”
Eve flinched and looked up. It was Arsen.
“Hello, Eve.”
“…Why are you here?”
“You told me to go do my work, so I am. Managing a land granted by the emperor is my duty as Duke. Fontaine is famous for its wine, right?”
Eve frowned. Since when did he care about duchy affairs? It felt like he was questioning her competence.
‘Did he already meet Cecilia? I saw her later than this originally… but they could’ve met before.’
Since Eve rarely left the estate, she didn’t know exactly when or how Arsen met his mistresses.
If Cecilia was the one urging him to manage the duchy, then there was only one reason:
‘To use my incompetence as an excuse to push me out into the annex.’
