WARDV12

CHAPTER 12

Leticia gave no explanation about her relationship with Idris.

But in truth, avoiding the question was no different than admitting it.

And that non-answer from Leticia…

“Duchess, are you acknowledging your relationship with the Grand Duke?”

“Your Grace! Please, say something! Your Grace!”

…was enough to inflame not just Feydan, but the journalists as well.

He tried to manipulate public opinion, only to worsen the scandal with his own hands.

Now he looked like a poor man who had been abandoned by his wife.

That must’ve hurt his pride quite a bit.

Leticia offered Feydan a cool smile as she pried his hand off hers.

Then she left the boutique with Idris, pushing through the sea of reporters.

“Duchess!”

“Your Grace!”

The journalists, forgetting their original reason for following Feydan, scrambled after the new headline of the day.

Still frozen by the shock of the situation, Élise finally snapped out of it and hurried over to Feydan.

“F-Feydan! Just now, those two—what’s going on?!”

She had completely forgotten she came to confront him about the fake necklace.

But Feydan didn’t seem to hear a word of her voice.

He simply stared, disbelieving, at Leticia and Idris’s retreating figures.

Leticia… chose another man over me?

Just days ago, she had seemed terrified of being divorced after finding out about Élise and Feydan.

And now, she had chosen Idris Del Lua—the man who had always been a thorn in Feydan’s side?

…I can’t accept this.

No, he didn’t want to accept it.

“Don’t tell me… the Grand Duke and the Duchess really—?”

Grinding his teeth at the thought of those two, Feydan suddenly stormed out of the boutique, not even waiting for Élise to finish her sentence.

“Feydan? Feydan!”

Startled by being completely ignored, Élise quickly chased after him, leaving the boutique staff finally able to breathe a sigh of relief.

It took ages for the carriage to break through the crowd in front of the boutique.

The reporters were relentless.

Only once they’d fully escaped the scene did things finally quiet down.

That jab at Feydan was satisfying… but just thinking about living under constant public scrutiny from now on is exhausting.

As Leticia let out a quiet sigh, a voice she’d momentarily forgotten spoke again.

“So that woman… she’s the reason you’re seeking revenge against the Duke.”

Idris’s voice was low, almost muttering.

Assuming he must also be tired from the earlier ordeal, Leticia cautiously apologized.

“I’m sorry.”

He turned to her, puzzled.

Huh? Isn’t he upset about what happened at the boutique?

Having started the conversation, she continued explaining.

“For dragging you into such a spectacle.”

But Idris didn’t seem pleased with her reaction.

With an openly disapproving expression, he responded coldly.

“I don’t see why you’re apologizing. The one who betrayed you, and the one who brought reporters to the boutique—that was the Duke.”

“But still—”

“Don’t bow your head because of the Duke’s wrongdoing. You’re not his wife anymore.”

His firm words struck her like a hammer.

That’s right. Feydan’s not my husband anymore.

She wasn’t the one in the wrong here—she was the victim.

It wasn’t Idris she owed an apology to—it was Feydan who deserved her anger.

A truth so obvious… and yet it hadn’t hit her until Idris said it aloud.

In my past life, even though I resented Feydan, part of me always wondered if maybe it was my fault, too…

People had pitied her but still whispered that maybe Feydan cheated because she wasn’t a good wife.

Even after miraculously returning from the brink of death, she thought she had left that past behind.

But the years of gaslighting clearly weren’t something she could shake off in a single day.

Her bitter thoughts were interrupted by Idris’s lazy, but steady voice.

“Leticia.”

Crossing his long legs, he continued.

“In this game, I’m here to help you as a partner—but I’m not your prince on a white horse.”

“…”

“And you don’t seem like someone who needs a prince anyway. Am I wrong?”

In fairy tales, princesses wait for their princes to come and rescue them.

That had been her role in her last life.

But I don’t want to be that kind of protagonist anymore.

She had decided never to live like that again.

And it was as if Idris had seen straight into her heart.

“To put it another way—the outcome of this game rests entirely in your hands. So…”

His golden eyes, previously cast downward, lifted to meet hers.

“…make sure you win.”

His gaze was cold and resolute—no warmth, no pity.

He wasn’t offering to save her.

He was giving her the sword and letting her fight.

And yet…

There was something empowering about his words, even if they sounded harsh.

They didn’t weigh her down—they made her stronger.

Leticia couldn’t hold back a small laugh.

“If I ever planned on losing, I wouldn’t have started this at all.”

Her confident reply made Idris smile with satisfaction.

“Good. That’s what makes it fun.”

Just as their conversation wrapped up, the carriage came to a stop.

The coachman didn’t say anything, so I doubt we’ve arrived yet…

Curious about what was going on, she looked over just as Idris peeked through the curtain and spoke.

“Looks like we can’t go into the hotel just yet.”

Puzzled, Leticia turned to look outside.

They had arrived near the hotel where she was staying, but in front of it—

Reporters?

A whole swarm of journalists was waiting outside.

Since they had left the boutique first, they couldn’t possibly know she and Idris were together.

They must’ve seen the news and rushed over.

If I step out of the Grand Duke’s carriage right now…

She’d be mobbed all over again, just like earlier at the boutique.

This was the drama she had staged, but the thought of being buried under another barrage of questions was already exhausting.

Not that I have anywhere else to go. Should I just brace myself and go in?

She took a deep breath, preparing to face the crowd when—

“Leticia.”

Idris’s voice called her name, and she looked up instinctively.

He tilted his head and met her eyes, then offered a suggestion.

“Want to come to my place?”

Moments later, the carriage rolled smoothly to a stop.

As the door opened, a familiar mansion greeted her.

“Shall we, milady?”

Idris extended his hand with a playful smile.

In front of the Grand Duke’s mansion, all was quiet.

The staff had clearly cleared away any reporters who tried to sneak in.

Leticia took his hand and stepped out of the carriage, assuming that would be the end of the act.

But then—

…Huh?

Instead of letting go, Idris’s hand gently slipped around her shoulder.

The sudden warmth startled her, and she looked up at him in surprise.

Smiling, he whispered softly so that only she could hear.

“I told you, I’d do this properly.”

“And you should start getting used to it.”

After all…

We’re lovers, aren’t we?

His eyes gestured toward the staff watching them.

Only then did Leticia become aware of all the stares directed their way.

Not just the servants lined up at the entrance, but even the murmuring voices and camera flashes beyond the gates.

Everyone was watching them.