Chapter : 04
“An Unpleasant Woman”
The very next morning, sharp and early, a “bodyguard” appeared as if on cue.
Her name was Alexa Brighton, a female knight with a gentle expression and soft brown hair that left a pleasant impression.
“I’ll simply remain by your side. You needn’t pay me any mind.”
“I see. Nice to meet you.”
Alexa was not at fault. Psyche treated her no differently than anyone else.
That said, she had no intention of letting things slide as she used to, pretending that everything was fine.
Alexa had surely been ordered to report everything Psyche did. Keeping him in mind, Psyche decided to put on a bit of an act. If the duke could play the role of the devoted husband—concerned for his wife and child all on his own—then she wouldn’t let him enjoy that game alone.
After washing up quickly, she discreetly asked a maid to increase the amount of soup served at breakfast, then looked at the meal placed before her.
As expected, Alexa stood nearby, watching Psyche as she ate. When Psyche glanced her way, Alexa averted her gaze as if it were nothing—but it was obvious she would continue to observe her closely.
Skipping meals was out of the question for the sake of the baby. Psyche ate a little over half of the larger-than-usual portion of soup, then let out a sigh and set her spoon down.
“……”
Looking at the untouched dishes besides the soup, Psyche shook her head.
“Madam, do you have no appetite?”
Marie, who was attending to her meal, asked cautiously as she poured water.
“Mm. My stomach doesn’t feel well. I’ll stop here. Take everything away.”
Alexa raised an eyebrow ever so slightly. She must have assumed that Psyche truly wasn’t feeling well. And all of this would surely reach the duke’s ears. A man who valued the child more than gold would undoubtedly press her about it.
After dismissing breakfast, Psyche went straight to bed. When she skipped her usual walk and lay down instead, Marie looked startled.
“You really don’t seem well today, madam. Shall I call a physician?”
Strolling through the garden was Psyche’s only real pastime in the ducal estate. The county she had grown up in was surrounded by rugged mountains and dense greenery. Nobles there were practically required to be well-versed in plants.
Knowing the properties of herbs—and poisonous plants—was essential to survival. Psyche had been no exception. In fact, she especially loved the fresh scents of trees and flowers and felt more affection toward plants than most.
So for her to skip her walk was highly unusual.
Unable to stand by, Alexa stepped forward.
“I’ll fetch a physician.”
She looked ready to rush off immediately.
“No. I’ll be fine after some rest.”
Psyche put on a weak expression. From now on, she intended to play the role of a woman growing ill because her husband had forced an unwanted bodyguard upon her—until he raised his hands in surrender out of concern for the baby’s health.
Rumors spread through the ducal household that Psyche hadn’t been herself lately, yet the duke himself never appeared.
Several days passed, and it wasn’t until the day of the social ball that she finally saw him again.
“My lady.”
“……”
She resented him for not moving as she had hoped, but she had no intention of letting those feelings ruin her plans. Taking the hand of the neatly dressed duke, Psyche boarded the carriage.
They rode in silence for a long while. As they neared the count’s estate where the ball was being held, the duke finally spoke.
“I hear your health hasn’t been good lately.”
Of course—there was no way her condition hadn’t been reported to him.
“It’s nothing. With the due date approaching, it’s only natural for women to feel this way.”
In truth, there were still about three months left, but she brushed him off coolly. The way he looked at her—arms crossed, scrutinizing—felt different from usual. That, too, was understandable. She had always followed his words without question.
“Is it because of the bodyguard?”
He struck right at the heart of it. Seeing that he was willing to talk for once, Psyche seized the opportunity.
“Yes. It feels like I’m constantly being watched. I can’t relax.”
In reality, Alexa was kind and easy to talk to—she wasn’t unpleasant company.
If only she weren’t the duke’s spy.
At her words, Clint looked troubled, deeply weary. He couldn’t understand why the woman before him had changed so much. Still, he couldn’t risk anything that might negatively affect the child.
Letting out a sigh, he uncrossed his arms.
“Very well. I’ll reconsider.”
It was an answer she hadn’t expected.
It was the first time Clint had ever followed her words—or rather, the first time she had ever truly expressed her opinion. While Psyche stood there stunned, searching for a response, the carriage arrived at their destination.
The door opened from outside.
“We’ve arrived, Your Grace.”
“Let us disembark.”
Even outside, he attended to her with care. Accustomed to his courtesy, Psyche felt a bitter ache inside. Just as always, she linked her arm through his and entered.
“Duke Valentine and the Duchess have arrived!”
All eyes turned toward them. Ever since rumors of the duchess’s pregnancy had spread, many had been curious about their situation.
She had stayed out of sight early in her pregnancy to be cautious, and once the child was born, she would be unable to attend social events for some time. This ball was one of the few remaining chances to catch the duke’s—or the duchess’s—favor.
As Psyche entered, she slowly glanced around. When her eyes met those of other nobles, she offered polite nods in greeting. Many stole glances at her rounded belly. Though it was a ball, it was clear Psyche wouldn’t be dancing tonight.
She sat at a table-bar in the corner stocked with wine and let out a small, tired sigh. Since entering, a strange scent had been irritating her nose, leaving her uneasy. Her stomach felt queasy.
“They must have used a rather unusual fragrance today.”
“Is that so? I don’t notice anything.”
The duke looked around as if no scent existed.
“Maybe I’ve just become sensitive.”
Psyche frowned slightly, chalking it up to pregnancy.
“Good evening.”
“Oh—Rachel!”
Someone suddenly approached them, and the duke brightened.
“Rachel Hailston greets Your Grace and the Duchess.”
She bowed deeply—so deeply it almost felt playful, as if exaggerating on purpose. The moment Psyche saw the woman before her, her headache worsened.
Rachel was the duke’s childhood friend and the treasured daughter of a count—an exceedingly peculiar woman. She sometimes appeared in unconventional attire and even participated in swordsmanship tournaments usually reserved for men.
Male nobles found her easygoing and treated her without reserve. Women, however, generally disliked her—largely because she got along far too well with married men.
“Oh my! The baby will be born any day now!”
After greeting the duke cheek-to-cheek, Rachel stepped right up to Psyche. Before Psyche could respond, she reached out without permission and touched Psyche’s belly.
The moment her hand made contact, a surge of disgust shot through Psyche. Her expression hardened instantly.
“Take your hand away.”
“Pardon?”
“I said, take it away.”
Seeing Rachel’s blank, confused face made Psyche feel nauseous. She slapped Rachel’s hand aside.
“Ah.”
Rachel stared at her hand, left hanging in the air, clearly startled.
“I told you to move it. Miss.”
“Oh—my apologies.”
Rachel looked visibly embarrassed, but not cowed. If anything, she looked as though she didn’t understand what she’d done wrong, which only made Psyche more irritated. Psyche sighed and pressed her fingers to her temple.
The one who broke the awkward silence was the duke.
“Ah—miss, my apologies. My wife has been rather sensitive lately.”
He stepped between Psyche and Rachel, attempting to smooth things over. With so many eyes already on them, the situation needed to be resolved quickly despite the soft music playing in the background.
At his words, Psyche raised an eyebrow, then lowered it.
“Sensitive?”
Calling a pregnant woman “sensitive” was hardly a pleasant choice of words.
“You didn’t look well earlier. Please rest here for a while. I’ll go speak with Rachel over there. Alexa.”
At his command, Alexa—who had been standing at a distance—approached, raised her sword to her chest, and bowed, silently acknowledging the order.
“Come now. Let’s go, Rachel.”
The duke, who never failed to show Psyche perfect courtesy, now spoke casually—Rachel, let’s go—to another noblewoman. Though they had always been close, it still irked Psyche to see such familiarity displayed so openly in a formal setting.
Scowling slightly, she muttered under her breath as she watched his back.
“At times like this, shouldn’t you be staying by your wife’s side?”
Hearing this, Alexa scratched the back of her head awkwardly.
“…Never mind. It’s fine.”
Suddenly, Psyche realized that her behavior stemmed from a sense of hurt. She fell silent, bitterness spreading in her chest.
Because feeling hurt always presupposed expectation.
And she had simply grown too accustomed to his kindness.
End Of Chapter : 04
