My Husband Has Changed (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 16
Seeing Adel instantly turn pale, the housekeeper gave her a knowing look.
“I suppose it’s only natural to be startled the first time, so I’ll assign you a lady-in-waiting who’s quite experienced in such matters.”
“A—a lady-in-waiting?”
“It’s wise to seek advice from someone seasoned. Especially regarding a man’s… vigor.”
Alarmed, Adel urgently blurted out, nearly lunging to cover the housekeeper’s mouth.
“N-no, really, there’s absolutely no need for that! Greta has taken excellent care of me all by herself until now. And… and I more or less already know about it.”
“Is that truly the case?”
The housekeeper narrowed her eyes skeptically. Adel, her face burning crimson, could only nod.
“I don’t need many maids, either. There’s no occasion for elaborate dressing. If the priest selects an auspicious day, help on that day alone will suffice. Besides… His Highness must rest and recover for the time being…”
“An auspicious day?”
“You mean… dressing me only on predetermined days?”
“Oh.”
The housekeeper finally seemed to understand the source of the misunderstanding and nodded.
“I’ve heard rumors that in Bavaria, couples only share a bed on auspicious days, but in the north, we don’t bother with such distinctions.”
“Y-you don’t distinguish days?”
Adel’s sea-green eyes widened like a startled rabbit’s.
“But… then, without an auspicious day, how would they…?”
“Unite as one?”
Unable to utter the word herself, Adel had been circling around it vaguely, but at the housekeeper’s blunt phrasing, she clamped her mouth shut and merely nodded.
“Well, naturally, Their Highnesses would do so whenever they please! That’s the only way an heir will arrive promptly.”
“Wh-wha—what…!”
Adel’s neck and cheeks flushed scarlet from mortification. Though Margaret had spoken plainly, it was Adel who felt as if she might suffocate from shame—every hair on her body standing on end.
It was troubling enough that such matters were discussed so casually, but the idea that—instead of waiting for an auspicious day—they did it whenever they pleased, without restraint… was an outright catastrophe.
“So the rumors about him being wantonly affectionate… were true.”
Margaret, equally shocked, drove the point home.
“Insisting on an auspicious day and limiting it to only that day? Frankly, before Her Highness spoke up, I would’ve assumed it was either fabricated or greatly exaggerated. It simply defies nature.”
Adel was dumbfounded. Technically, her side seemed the more licentious and unrestrained, but she knew arguments over such matters would never yield resolution.
As she cycled rapidly from bright red to deathly pale and back again, Margaret stared at her with an unreadable expression.
“Her Highness is far more expressive with emotions than I’d imagined.”
Was that a compliment—or veiled mockery disguised as admiration? Adel couldn’t tell, but Margaret’s voice carried a faint trace of goodwill. Adel noticed the slightest upward curve at the corner of her lips.
Margaret quickly composed her expression, reverting instantly to her usual brisk, professional demeanor as she continued.
“In any case, now that you know, you must steel yourself without delay. Secure a proper heir as soon as possible.”
“Th-that sort of thing…”
“I realize it’s not my place to say this, but though His Grace the Grand Duke currently holds you in high regard, there’s only one true way for a mistress of the house to solidify her standing.”
Adel met Margaret’s resolute gaze. She didn’t know what had softened this loyal housekeeper’s heart, but in that brief moment, she sensed Margaret’s eyes had grown gentler toward her.
Adel nodded obediently.
“…Thank you for the advice.”
“Then please rest for now.”
When Adel nodded once more, the housekeeper quietly closed the door and left. Adel dragged her exhausted body over to the long chaise and collapsed onto it.
‘The housekeeper is right.’
Without a rightful heir between her and Valentin, Adel’s position would be precarious should a similar crisis arise again. By ancient law, she might not even be able to refuse Oscar if he came to claim her.
Worse still, if fortune turned against her, her own family—the Reichenau—might argue the marriage was invalid since the consummation never occurred on their wedding night… and sell her off to someone else for a high price.
The real problem was that the ‘Grand Duke Ansgar,’ who had once despised her, would never have wanted a child from her—dead or alive. Though things might be different now, there was no guarantee that Valentin—once his memories fully returned—would welcome either her or her child.
‘Honestly, I can’t even guess what His Highness is thinking.’
One moment he insists they share every night together, the next he calls her ‘my lady,’ not to mention this mountain of lavish gifts and an extravagantly furnished chamber…
The more eccentric Valentin became, the more people whispered that the Grand Duke favored her beyond measure. In truth, their relationship couldn’t be more bizarre.
Originally, Adel had planned to leave the castle immediately upon Valentin’s return—retreating to a convent under the pretense of illness, securing a villa, or even hiding in a humble woodsman’s hut.
Even if Valentin chose to parade her like an ornament and bring home bastards, she’d resolved to accept it all without protest.
‘After all, the damage I’ve caused him is no small matter. I must compensate him as best I can.’
Yet all her careful plans and preparations had become utterly useless overnight—because Valentin Ansgar, risen from death, had changed far too drastically.
Was this merely a fleeting state… or was there truly something else inside him?
Just thinking the thought sent a chill down her spine. Adel paced the room anxiously.
‘For now, I shouldn’t think too deeply. Worrying and fretting won’t uncover the truth. If he truly is a demon, Archpriest Padre will surely reveal it plainly.’
No demon, however malicious or vile, could withstand the holy power of a high priest. Thus, once the priest arrived in Bitzleben, it would only be a matter of time before this strange affair was resolved.
Adel resolutely traced the sign of the cross.
[This is the timeline separator]Archpriest Padre arrived in the Ansgar domain of Bitzleben precisely three days after Adel had sent her letter. While tending to Greta’s throat, Adel rushed down the stairs upon hearing that the archpriest’s carriage had passed through the main gate of Ansgar Castle.
“Father Padre.”
It was bitterly cold—the kind of winter chill that made one’s nose prickle. Padre, who had just stepped down from his carriage, beamed upon seeing Adel.
“Adelheid. Have you been well?”
“How did you arrive so quickly?”
“I happened to be on pilgrimage. I’d just crossed into Schleicher territory when your messenger cleverly tracked me down.”
Schleicher shared a border with Ansgar. If a figure as esteemed as the archpriest had visited Schleicher’s temple, the place must have been bustling with devotees seeking blessings. Only Adelheid, isolated here, had remained ignorant of such news.
Even now, Ansgar townsfolk who recognized the archpriest’s vestments were bowing their heads in reverence—and their glances toward Adel, standing before him, had grown noticeably deferential.
Adel let out a sigh of relief.
“Thank you for coming so promptly. I’d nearly given up, expecting to wait weeks before hearing back.”
“What have I done? It was all Morrig’s arrangement.”
“Morrig…?”
Adel turned the name over on her tongue, then lifted her head.
“You’re right. Please come inside. It’s already lunchtime—have you eaten?”
“Not yet. A warm cup of tea would be most welcome.”
“Prepare tea immediately in the reception room.”
At Adel’s command, a maid who had been following nearby curtseyed with evident delight and hurried away. The woman, whose faith had deepened profoundly after losing her son, seemed utterly moved to greet the archpriest—a figure rarely seen even from afar in the capital.
“This way, please.”
Adel opened the reception room door. Thanks to her prior warning, the chamber was immaculate: a roaring fireplace, clean carpets, and a large table at its center.
Tapestries, portraits of past grand dukes, and mounted animal heads adorned the walls. Rather than sit immediately, Padre lingered to admire the portraits.
Once tea was served, he finally took a seat at the table and smiled.
“I’m relieved to see you’re faring better than I’d feared.”
“I know… I know you were very worried when I made my vows.”
Marriage—the word she couldn’t bring herself to say—but Padre, seeming to understand her unspoken thought, answered gently.
“The wealthy south dismisses Bitzleben as barbaric, yet this land has its own order and discipline, as you now know.”
Adel slowly nodded. Padre’s concern for her had been genuine, not mere politeness.
His inability to ignore her suffering had even led him to break his vow of non-interference in worldly affairs. For that, malicious rumors had once swirled around them.
“A love affair between a count’s suspected bastard maid and the next papal candidate…”
The baseless gossip, though witnessed by no one, had slithered like a serpent—cunning and relentless. It was obvious factions opposed to Padre’s papal ascension were behind it.
Because of that, despite Padre’s repeated pleas that she write whenever troubled, Adel had sent no word for three long years.
Until this crisis erupted.
“Oh—and this. Miss Charlotte heard I was traveling north and asked me to deliver her regards.”
Suddenly remembering, Padre pulled a neatly wrapped parcel from his robes. Adel hesitated, then unwrapped it.
“…”
Inside lay a hair ornament lavishly adorned with lace and ribbons. A duke’s plume caught the eye, and several velvet roses—twisted from fine black threads—were attached. Everything about it was black, black, black.
It was mourning attire. Only then did Padre, rarely flustered, blush with embarrassment.
“Oh dear.”
He stammered an apology.
“It’s been twenty days since I left Bitzleben—so all Miss Charlotte would’ve heard was news of your husband’s tragic passing. Even in Schleicher, rumors of the Grand Duke’s return were just whispers.”
“…”
“To be honest, Adel, I wouldn’t have believed it myself if I hadn’t received your letter.”
“Do you still have the letter? Did you read it thoroughly?”
“Of course I do. Every word.”
The priest’s gentle eyes held hers steadily.
“I told you to write whenever it grew hard—but I never expected a letter like this.”
“…”
“What I read in your letter, Adel, was your terror.”
Male lead reborn without memories — but he still falls for her.
The person he finds displeasing in this life turns out to be his cherished wife-master in previous life…
Xie Zhi and Fang Xianxing who had known each other for less than three days through a blind date sat in the same car in front of the civil affairs bureau. They had a disagreement and failed to get married.
Xie Zhi immediately took out his phone, slid through his contacts, and randomly selected the next marriage candidate.
The woman snatched his phone and hung up. Looking at his phone wallpaper, she awkwardly changed the subject: “An ancient painting, eh? It looks pretty good, it’s just that the person in the painting looks a bit like me.”
When he heard this, he sarcastically mocked her for being so delusional, completely unaware that, the person in front of him was the reincarnation of Wen Ru, the famous prime minister of Yuan Shun whom he most admired…
The female CEO who doesn’t want to get married with a divorce agreement in hand × The male archaeological researcher who will only get married if he’s sure he can get divorced
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