I Have A Terminally Ill Duke As My Husband (1 Chapters Left to Complete) - Chapter 5
Luan Canoluph.
At the age of fifteen, he already possessed the finest swordsmanship in the Omakurt Empire, and by seventeen, he began leading campaigns to eradicate bandits along the empire’s borderlands.
At eighteen, based on his remarkable achievements, he inherited his father’s title of Duke—the youngest ever in the empire to do so.
Two years later, at twenty, Luan went to war against the Alomand Kingdom. Though he secured victory after two years of fighting, he himself fell victim to a curse with no known cure.
He knew how to break the curse, but the method required was utterly impossible for him to carry out, so he never even considered attempting it.
Thus, only six months remained for him…
He held no particular regrets about ending his life, yet there was one person who weighed heavily on his mind: Olivia Canoluph.
She was the younger sister of the late Duke Reynold Canoluph, and after Luan lost both his parents in an accident at age five, Olivia had raised him. To Luan, she was as dear as a parent.
His reason for agreeing to this absurd marriage was also because of Olivia—but…
“Is it true that you only have six months left to live?”
Olivia asked calmly after hearing the news from Luan.
The men of House Canoluph had always died young.
Her father Howard had been the same, and her brother Reynold had also died young in an accident.
Thus, to Olivia, Luan was an especially cherished nephew—and son.
“I’m sorry, Aunt.”
Luan, unable to bring himself to tell Olivia about the curse, had instead told her and those around him that he had been poisoned by an incurable toxin.
“Is there truly no antidote?”
“I’m sorry, Aunt.”
“Then get married.”
“Marry? But I won’t even live half a year. It wouldn’t be right to take a young lady from a respectable family for that.”
“For staying by your side these six months, I’ll ensure she receives ample compensation. And—who knows—she might even conceive a child during that time.”
“Aunt…”
“It’s my wish. Consider this marriage your way of repaying me for raising you as my own all these years.”
“But, Aunt… there’s no guarantee a child will be conceived.”
“Of course, that’s possible. But who can say? If no child comes in six months, I’ll take it as God’s will and accept it.”
Luan, seeing Olivia’s earnest gaze fixed upon him, could say nothing and simply nodded.
A bride for six months…
Everyone had wondered who would send a marriage proposal, yet over half the noble families in the empire had submitted one.
Was it just for the title of Duchess?
Luan deliberately chose someone from a lower-ranking family,
to prevent future complications after his death.
What began reluctantly due to Olivia’s persistent urging ultimately led all the way to the wedding ceremony.
Was her name Mercian?
As Luan put on his tuxedo, he murmured his bride’s name softly—he had not yet met her.
Although he had entrusted Cassel with organizing the wedding and received occasional updates, he still hadn’t seen the face of his future wife.
So I’m really going through with this marriage.
Luan took one last look at his reflection in the mirror and stepped out of his study.
[This is the timeline separator]“My Lady, it’s a pleasure to meet you for the first time. I’ll formally introduce myself properly later, but for now, I am Clea, the head maid of this ducal household.”
Mercian, still groggy from having been practically loaded into the carriage at dawn, had just entered the ducal estate when a middle-aged woman approached her with a smile and bowed politely.
“Oh—Clea. Nice to meet you. But what’s all this about at this hour of the morning?”
Mercian, her face still puffy from sleep, returned the greeting. Clea studied her carefully, then nodded as if a plan had just formed in her mind.
“First, we must get you into a bath to reduce the puffiness in your face and body. Then we’ll handle your makeup and hair. Come now—let’s save formal greetings for later and follow me.”
What? Puffiness? On me?
Hearing Clea declare her whole body was swollen, Mercian wanted to protest that it wasn’t puffiness—it was just her natural build—but instead, she awkwardly nodded and said,
“Ah… maybe it’s because of what I ate before bed yesterday. I do seem quite puffy.”
“Don’t worry, My Lady. I’ll make sure you’re in the absolute best condition before the ceremony.”
“Huh? Wait, hold on—”
As Clea led Mercian into a room, five or six maids were already waiting for them.
“Alright, everyone, we’re short on time—let’s get started right away. First, we’ll reduce the swelling on My Lady’s face and body.”
Under Clea’s direction, the maids immediately began carrying out their assigned tasks.
“First, we’ll bathe you, My Lady.”
Three maids escorted Mercian into the bathing chamber.
The spacious bathhouse—large enough to fit ten people—was filled with rose petals reserved for the wealthiest nobles and scented with a faint, sweet oil whose exact fragrance Mercian couldn’t identify.
As the maids helped her into the warm bathwater, her body relaxed and her fatigue melted away as if it had never existed.
“My Lady, we’ll begin your bath now.”
At the maid’s words, Mercian unconsciously nodded, and the three maids began lathering soap over every inch of her body, creating soft, fragrant lather.
Though she came from a viscount’s household, her family had never been wealthy enough to afford personal maids, so Mercian was used to bathing alone. Thus, the sudden attention felt strange—but it wasn’t as if she could insist on bathing alone on her wedding morning, so she surrendered herself to their care.
“Oh my! My Lady, your skin is absolutely exquisite!”
As they rinsed away the suds and applied scented oils, the maids looked at Mercian with obvious envy.
“And your skin is as soft and creamy as butter—the texture is simply divine!”
My skin is “creamy” soft?
They don’t think I’m just disgustingly fat?
Mercian recalled Lucianne, who always mocked her figure with cruel words, and looked at the maids with a puzzled expression.
“We’ll do our very best tonight to make you stunningly beautiful for your husband.”
Ah—now that she thought about it, marrying meant sharing a bed with the Duke.
Wait—does that mean I’ll have to spend my wedding night with him?
Mercian’s cheeks flushed instantly at the maids’ words.
“Oh dear! My Lady, your face is turning red! Is the water too hot?”
“N-no, I’m fine.”
“Hehehe—but you look absolutely adorable when you blush like that!”
Me? Adorable?
Mercian felt strangely moved—this was the first time anyone besides Charles had paid her such a compliment.
Back at the viscount’s estate, she’d always just been “poor, mistreated Mercian”—nothing more, nothing less.
Penelope always criticized her appearance, and Lucianne, pretending to be refined, would circle around her words just to look down on her. Not once had either of them ever given her a single word of praise. So why were these women—meeting her for the first time—complimenting her so warmly?
Their hands, gently washing her body with smiles, were careful and tender—nothing like Penelope’s scornful touches, which always made her feel like a pig.
Mercian tensed slightly, feeling both pleased and awkward under their care, until one of the maids applying perfume asked,
“My Lady, are you uncomfortable? Or does it hurt?”
“No—it’s just that I’m not used to being waited on, so I must be tensing up without realizing it.”
“My Lady, please relax. You’ll need to get used to this now, so just let go of your tension. And do let us know if anything hurts.”
“Ah—yes.”
The maid began massaging Mercian’s shoulders to ease her tension.
Ah… this feels wonderful.
Under the maids’ gentle and careful ministrations, Mercian gradually relaxed without even noticing.
She almost felt as if she’d become someone truly precious.
A short while later,
led back to her room by the maids, the remaining two immediately began applying a soft cream to her skin while simultaneously drying her hair.
“Since tonight is your wedding night, we’ll apply a special fragrance meant to allure your husband.”
W-wedding night? Allure?
Mercian’s face flushed again at the maids’ words, prompting Clea to scold them gently.
“That’s enough teasing—can’t you see My Lady is embarrassed? Now, please stay still so we can begin your makeup, My Lady.”
At Clea’s signal, a maid who had been standing behind stepped forward, bowed, and started applying Mercian’s makeup.
“There—finished.”
Is… is this really me?
Mercian stared at her reflection in the mirror, astonished at how much more beautiful she appeared compared to when she’d tried on her wedding dress at the dressmaker’s.
Her skin glowed as if lit from within, likely thanks to the fine oils used in her bath, and the makeup—designed to highlight her fair, translucent complexion—complemented her wedding gown perfectly.
Most importantly, the gown fit her body as if it had been measured precisely to her form.
“You’re absolutely radiant, My Lady.”
As the maids expressed their admiration, Clea also nodded with evident satisfaction.
“Now, we have about an hour until the ceremony, so please rest for a bit.”
“A-an entire hour?”
No sooner had Mercian spoken than her stomach growled loudly.
Oh—how embarrassing.
“You must not have eaten anything since you left so early this morning. I should’ve started with a meal before dressing you—I was so hurried I forgot. I’m terribly sorry. Please wait just a moment.”
Clea bowed apologetically for her oversight, then gestured to a maid, who hurried out of the room.
“N-no, it’s fine—it’s just that I do enjoy eating quite a bit…”
Clea glanced at the clock and replied,
“We do have about an hour, so please have something to eat. Once the ceremony starts, you won’t be able to eat for quite some time. And if you need anything else, just pull this cord.”
With a smile, Clea and the maids left the room, and shortly afterward, a maid returned with bread and soup.
“My Lady, just pull the cord if you need anything more.”
“Thank you.”
“Oh dear—you mustn’t speak so humbly! You’ll soon be our mistress. Please call me Charles.”
“Charles… thank you.”
“Then please enjoy your meal comfortably.”
“W-wait a moment.”
“Yes, My Lady?”
“Can I ask just one question?”
“Of course.”
“What kind of person is the Duke?”
Though the marriage had proceeded against her will, Mercian had never once seen her future husband’s face—not even now, on the very eve of their wedding.
He might only live six more months, but she’d at least expected to see his face once before marrying him…
“Oh—the master? He’s incredibly handsome and noble, though admittedly a bit stoic and cold in speech. But deep down, he’s very warm-hearted. Of course, those qualities aren’t as visible now, since he’s quite ill. Truthfully, we’re all deeply worried about his worsening condition—but today is meant to be a joyous occasion for him, so we’ve all resolved to celebrate the wedding cheerfully.”
Worsening condition?
Is he that seriously ill?
“Oh dear—I’ve been talking too much again. I’ll return shortly. Please enjoy your meal.”
After Charles bowed and left, the fragrant aroma of the soup and the savory scent of fresh bread filled Mercian’s senses, and her tension eased as sudden hunger overtook her.
When scheming men desperately battle for her favor in the male harem
This one’s also on my reread list! The rivalry, scheming between the men in the imperial harem are just as intense and thrilling as in classic palace drama novels, where concubines fight to the death. Give it a read, girls! I promise you won’t be disappointed.
Synopsis:
“I am not worthy of her… but I still want to be by her side, even if only as a loyal dog…”
Those were the painful whispers of Yue Guanyi – the proud Crown Prince of the Great Qi, who was torn between deep love and a guilty conscience. Despite holding the supreme power of the Imperial Guard, he still could not forget the dark past when he was sold into a brothel.
Fate played a cruel twist when Qiu Shuzhi – a young female official who had just passed the imperial examinations with top honors – stepped into his life. She did not know that she was the one who had saved him from a tragic fate many years ago. And now, her heart was the target of pursuit for both Yue Guanyi and the powerful Empress Dowager Qin Qing.
While Yue Guanyi only dared to silently care for and protect the one he loved from afar, the Empress Dowager Qin Qing openly expressed his feelings and did not hesitate to take advantage of his power to approach Qiu Shuzhi. The covert struggle between the two most powerful forces in the imperial court began…
Trigger warning: All men in this novel are yandere style.
_____
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