Episode 32. Is There a Wife Who Fears Her Husband?

2023.11.01.Yuan gave up supporting him and instead opened the bedroom door, standing at the threshold.

Clade’s bloodshot eyes glared fiercely at Yuan.

“If you don’t want my help, I’ll go alone.”

“You. Come here right now. Answer me.”

Yuan stared briefly at Clade, who was staggering to his feet, then scurried to his side.

Clade, who had instinctively reached for her support, stood dumbfounded, watching her dark hair move away again.

In Yuan’s hands were the empty dishes Clade had used.

“I’ll take these away. Hire said it’s good for you to walk a little since the bleeding from the arrow in your thigh has stopped, so I was trying to help… but if you don’t want it, walk alone in the bedroom.”

“Hey. Aren’t you coming back here?”

“Are you going to hit me if I don’t?”

Is that something a noble lady would say?

Clade glared at her as if she were speaking nonsense.

Who would hit someone so small and delicate? It was so absurd that he couldn’t even muster a hollow laugh.

“What’s wrong with your head? Have you completely lost all sense of fear?”

“Is there a wife who fears her husband?”

Clade flinched.

Wife. Wife. That damned word, wife.

They had long ago settled that she was a vassal to be used when needed, a lord-vassal relationship in name only, not a real marriage.

Her behavior was so baffling it seemed her expression might burst through her face.

Yet, the frustrating part was that, as a guilty lord, he couldn’t even refute her words.

“Honestly, you should fear me a little” was something he couldn’t bring himself to say to that pale, haggard face.

It was his fault for tormenting his raven-like vassal every night until her face looked so worn.

Despite his remorseful thoughts, the harsh words ready to leap out were held back, causing cold sweat to drip down his back from the effort.

Suppressing his “damnable temper,” as Lancelot had put it, felt like an allergic reaction coursing through his body.

But whether she knew his heart or not, his colt-like “vassal,” who kept scratching at his nerves by calling herself family or wife, left the bedroom with a slight smile.

“I’m always outside, so come out when you feel like it.”

Clade Euphris, leaving this bedroom on his own in broad daylight?

It was something unimaginable, something that would never happen.

“Madam, don’t wait too long. I’ve worked here for over three years, and I’ve never seen him come out during the day. With us bustling around like this, do you think he’d show up?”

“Exactly. I’ve been here five years, and the first time I saw him was when His Majesty the Emperor visited!”

“Since Madam came to this mansion, I’ve seen more of the master’s shadow than in all my years working here!”

Yuan smiled gently at the maids who tossed out comments as they passed by with laundry.

It had already been a week.

Clade had not accepted Yuan’s suggestion to take a walk together.

Not only that, but every time Yuan brought him meals three times a day, he’d say cold things like, “Don’t waste your energy on useless things,” or, as if waiting for her help, he’d start asking how old she was.

Even when she suggested going for a walk outside if he was curious, he stubbornly stayed cooped up in his room.

‘He’s probably not even that curious.’

Yuan pondered why Clade refused to come outside, wondering if it was really because of his scarred half-face.

Clade had only come out once when people were around.

That was when the Emperor visited, and even then, he wore a mask to cover half his face.

What if she could take away all his pain?

‘But then…’

Yuan would have to bear that pain for the rest of her life.

All pain had a “core” at its source.

Whenever pain was generated from that core, people felt it, and Yuan had been helping her uncle by absorbing the pain emitted from that core.

Clade’s case was no different.

The core of Clade’s pain was dormant during the day but raged at night.

Yuan’s current method was to take on a portion of that raging pain.

For Clade to be completely free from it, the unique “core” of his pain would need to be uprooted and absorbed by Yuan.

Then, Clade’s body would be cleansed, but Yuan would carry that core of pain within her, sinking into a swamp of suffering the moment her guard slipped.

For ordinary people like Clade, pain manifested visibly on their bodies, so others could recognize it. But for Yuan, who absorbed and felt the pain in their place, the suffering was just as real but invisible, unnoticed by anyone.

The more she used this ability, the more skilled she became, and Yuan had reached the point where she could contain the pain and release it gradually. But that didn’t reduce the total amount of pain.

Especially for pain like Clade’s, which would never disappear unless transferred to someone else, it was even more difficult.

Even taking on a small portion of his pain made her dizzy enough to scream for a moment. Taking on the core itself? That was unthinkable.

But if that devilish pain, which even reached his face, was what kept him locked away like this…

‘I can help.’

If she truly saw this place as her home and him as real family, she could bear the pain that extended to his face.

If she could take on just enough of the poison-like pain that spread at night to keep it from reaching his face…

Clade might find more peace during the day, perhaps even leave his bedroom for normal activities.

“Madam.”

“Oh, Sir Lancelot.”

“I’d be grateful if you just called me Lancelot.”

Lancelot, who had visited Clade early that morning, approached Yuan after finishing his business.

Yuan, recalling how she had confronted Lancelot the day Clade returned with an arrow wound, gave a slightly sheepish smile.

“I should thank you first, Madam.”

Thankfully, Lancelot spoke up first.

“Clade has brightened up a lot.”

…Him?

Yuan held back the words that almost slipped out and perked up her ears.

Lancelot, brushing back his fine caramel-colored hair, glanced upward just enough for Yuan to notice, then lowered his voice.

“It’s thanks to you, Madam.”

“What did I…”

“Since you came to this mansion, Clade’s complexion has improved greatly. He talks more too. He used to think speaking was a hassle and would just nod or tilt his head. As you probably know, that guy says ‘no’ with his eyes and gives orders with his chin.”

Lancelot continued smoothly, like a fish in water, before letting out a sigh of relief.

“He’s a guy who’s mastered saying nasty things, but what can I do? As his only friend, I have to put up with it. It’s natural for someone in pain to be sensitive. Having someone like you who understands that and brightens the atmosphere of this house has taken a weight off my shoulders. There are ladies lining up for me in the capital, but I’ve been wasting my youth coming to this dreary place to keep him company.”

“Oh.”

The only reason she understood Clade’s pain was because she could feel it herself.

Her initial willingness to do this was to somehow win his favor and stay in this house, and to find out about Louise’s death.

Ultimately, if he was guilty, she wanted to hold him accountable for Louise’s death.

But now, she was the one in the position of a sinner.

Feeling her conscience prick, Yuan merely nodded.

“Clade told me not to wait for him since he won’t come out.”

As expected.

That was probably a softened version of something like, “Tell that foolish woman to stop wasting her time waiting for me.” Yuan gave a wry smile.

Lancelot, unfazed by such words, looked at Yuan, cleared his throat, and changed the subject.

“You must be bored without someone to talk to.”

“The servants are busy, but they’re all kind, and the mansion is so big that exploring it keeps me occupied.”

She meant it.

The servants acted like they’d never had a master before. The head chef, Ralph, who blushed and started researching recipes just because she said the food was delicious. The coachman and stablemaster, Mazarin, who was delighted to make frequent trips to town for purchases now that there was a lady of the house.

The young maids who followed her around whenever they had a chance. Even the old butler, Gustav, who had become much more courteous. She recalled the faces that lit up, despite their pretense, when she replaced all the servants’ uniforms recently.

A faint smile spread across Yuan’s lips.

“The mansion is large, but there are so few servants that everyone’s overworked. I want to help with something, but the butler jumps if I try to do anything, and the maids glare at me like hawks if I so much as lift a finger, so I can’t tell who’s the servant and who’s the employer.”

“Haha!”

Yuan chattered in a slightly excited tone.

“I come out here partly to wait for a walk with His Lordship, but also because they don’t complain about me tending the garden, which they see as a hobby, so I’m out here every day.”

Lancelot nodded as if he understood, chuckling, then glanced up at Yuan’s upper floor, specifically at the second-floor window.

The corners of his lips, twitching from suppressing laughter, stretched mischievously.

So, the guy who used to throw a fit if someone opened the curtains to let in some sunlight was now standing by the window all day, staring outside.

“But it would be good if His Lordship came out. Since the arrow went clean through his thigh, if he doesn’t walk regularly, he’ll limp for quite a while.”

A slight smirk appeared on Lancelot’s face as he crossed his arms and looked up at the second floor.

“Have you been to the west annex?”

“The west annex?”