Spent the First Night with the Male Lead, Thinking I Was Terminal (10 Chapters Left to Complete) - Chapter 4
“Speak quickly. Don’t test my patience.”
Swallowing back words that sounded oddly familiar, Clea ignored Grit’s fierce glare fixed upon her.
At first, that glare had triggered panic attacks in her.
Inwardly, against her own will, she’d kept repeating to herself, “Don’t defy him,” “Don’t let him hate you.”
But it hadn’t taken long before Clea erased all those nagging inner voices.
She had never sought affection from them or craved recognition as a true member of the same family.
A heart with no expectations naturally weathered the mounting pressure.
Now, she no longer felt tense even when looking at them.
‘On the contrary, it’s irritating.’
When Clea remained silent, Grit raised his voice slightly.
“If you keep acting like this, I’ll have no choice. I’ll report it to House Persy and annul your engagement to the prince.”
Grit had always emphasized this to Clea—
how much he’d sacrificed to secure her betrothal to Lloyd Persy.
He claimed he’d offered the Persy family enormous wealth as a prerequisite for the marriage.
And he’d drilled into her, almost like brainwashing, that she absolutely had to become the lady of House Persy.
The naive, original Clea, knowing nothing better, had always felt grateful to Grit and believed she must obey him unconditionally,
obsessively doing everything possible to marry Lloyd and maintain that relationship.
But now, knowing the truth, Clea nearly laughed out loud.
‘On the contrary, the Grand Duke and his wife never set any conditions for the Odoi Family.’
They’d actually welcomed the marriage proposal from a ducal house like the Odois precisely because they disapproved of Lloyd associating with young ladies of significantly lower status.
It wasn’t that they liked Clea—it was her family, Duke Odoi’s house, that they favored.
After all, until the previous duke’s death, House Odoi’s standing had been only a step or two below House Persy.
The only ones who’d opposed the engagement were Grit here and Lloyd, her fiancé.
As soon as the proposal arrived, the Grand Duke and his wife had immediately wanted Clea and Lloyd married.
But Grit, who resented his daughter suddenly rising above him, and Lloyd, who didn’t want to be unexpectedly tied down by marriage, had come to an agreement:
they would use Clea Odoi.
One would stall the wedding while reaping benefits from the Grand Duke’s household,
and the other would change his plans to convince his family and marry Aria by any means necessary.
When Clea remained silent instead of answering his question, Duke Odoi ordered her with clear irritation on his face.
“Go write an apology letter at once.”
Whenever she’d suggested annulment, it always ended like this.
She’d have to write a letter filled with empty, effusive admissions of fault—professing remorse without genuine feeling.
Until now, Clea had always done as he wished.
After all, what she gained from humoring him far outweighed the cost.
Though no one looked kindly upon her, she could sleep peacefully, and though she couldn’t taste the food, she still received three meals a day.
When sick, a physician came to examine her, and essential necessities were automatically replenished.
Even if the quality was poor, it spared her the trouble of worrying about such matters, which suited her just fine.
But now, things had changed.
“Why should I do that?”
“Are you defying me right now?”
“Yes, if that’s what you call defiance.”
“What kind of tone is that toward your father, Clea!”
She was already waiting for death anyway.
If unloved, the curse would inevitably manifest, leading her to death.
Clea had first realized this truth because of the mark appearing on the back of her hand.
A clock-like symbol had formed, and its second hand kept ticking forward without pause,
as if ready to kill her instantly the moment it stopped—without the slightest hesitation.
This was a truly grateful moment, making her realize even her own family didn’t love her.
Clea smiled faintly, hollowly.
‘Since only the cursed can see it, there’s no point trying to fix it.’
No one else would believe her even if she pleaded with them.
At best, she’d be lucky if people didn’t just conclude that Clea Odoi, who had always craved her fiancé’s affection, had finally gone mad.
Frankly, even if the curse could be lifted, Clea—already weary of life here—might’ve welcomed death.
She felt less like lifting the curse and more like finally having a chance to disappear from this place.
Now, there was no reason to force herself to write fake apologies just to gain what little she once could.
She remembered her thoughts at the imperial banquet:
meeting someone you longed for was far better than facing someone you dreaded.
Clea lifted her head and looked at Grit and Steve.
Steve stared at her with near-shock, while Grit frowned even deeper and raised his voice at Clea.
“Go to your room right now and write an apology letter! If you refuse, you’ll be cast out of House Odoi!”
At the words “cast out of House Odoi,” Clea flinched.
She clicked her tongue inwardly.
Did she still harbor such feelings for them?
The thought that even a trace remained of the original Clea’s emotions—the one she’d mentally beaten to death with iron and hammer—only worsened her mood.
Meanwhile, pleased to think Clea was frightened, Grit smiled and advised her,
“If you go up now and write the apology by tomorrow morning, I’ll keep the punishment light. The prince said he’ll accept your apology if you beg for forgiveness properly, so go see him, and it’ll all work out.”
“Stop your pointless defiance and quickly sit down to eat what’s given to you. Stubbornness will only ruin you.”
She grimaced at the words ringing in her ears.
Then, a good idea struck her, and she rose from her seat.
Grit and Steve assumed Clea had finally come to her senses—but they were mistaken.
Clea smiled and asked them,
“Does that mean I just have to abandon the name Odoi?”
“Clea?”
Steve stared at her with wide eyes, as if he’d never expected such words.
But Clea completely ignored Steve and fixed her gaze on Grit.
Grit met her stare with a stiff expression, as though struggling to process her words.
The beautiful girl with silver hair and blue eyes showed no emotion toward him—her face as cold as ice.
She wasn’t hiding anything. She truly felt nothing for him at all.
“Then I’ll do just that.”
“What nonsense are you spouting now!”
Grit, hearing Clea’s reply, was momentarily stunned before snapping back to ask.
He was certain he’d misheard.
He never imagined she’d so casually offer to discard the family name she’d once clung to so desperately.
But Clea, unwilling to leave even a sliver of doubt, kindly repeated herself.
“I’ll leave this house.”
“Clea! Do you honestly think you’ll be safe after doing this?”
Steve exploded in anger at Clea’s attitude.
Grit, too, frowned at her audacious demeanor.
Her apparent confidence that she’d thrive even outside the manor stirred an odd sense of displeasure in him.
Lately, among nobles, it wasn’t uncommon for rebellious children to run away from home.
But they always returned soon after, realizing how precious their home truly was—humbled by the harsh realities of the outside world.
Convinced this situation fit perfectly, Grit grinned confidently.
“Father, we must lock that child in her room immediately—!”
“Then leave this house.”
“Father?”
“Yes, I’ll do just that.”
Steve stared at Grit with a dazed expression.
Grit glanced at Steve with disdain before turning his eyes to Clea.
Still no hesitation in her stance.
He thought to himself: she might act this way now, but soon enough, she’d return to her old obedient self.
While imagining that compliant version of her, Clea simply ignored them both and walked straight out.
‘I probably won’t ever return here again.’
There was one critical difference between Clea’s thoughts and Duke Odoi’s assumption.
From the very beginning, Clea had never considered this place her home.
She’d always seen it merely as a temporary stop—one she’d someday leave behind.
Had Grit known her thoughts, he would’ve imprisoned her in the mansion right then, just as Steve had urged.
But he remained fixated on the Clea of old, already planning to assign her a personal attendant—just in case.
[This is the timeline separator]“You’ll have to explain why you let her go on your own accord, Obern.”
Admon’s mood had hit rock bottom.
For the first time, he expressed dissatisfaction toward his aide Obern, who had never disappointed him before.
The moment he woke up, he’d searched everywhere for Clea Odoi.
Though silver-haired, blue-eyed people weren’t common, she’d vanished completely—as if melting away like spring snow warmed by sunlight.
Only after a long while did he find the note left in his room,
an absurd message telling him to forget last night as if bitten by a dog.
Not long after, Obern proudly presented him with a contract.
He instantly grasped the entire situation.
“Your Highness, surely that princess must have used some trick.”
“So?”
Hearing different words from the same lips that had just scolded him, Obern rejoiced, thinking his loyalty was finally being recognized.
But that was a grand delusion.
Admon was merely curious how wildly absurd Obern’s next statement would be—
what outrageous claims he’d make under the guise of “protecting” him.
“She must intend to tarnish Your Highness’s honor for the sake of her fiancé, given your current opposition to House Odoi.”
“So, you’re saying I deliberately sought to dishonor myself by coveting a woman already betrothed.”
“Yes, exactly.”
It was, in a way, somewhat logical.
If the Duke had ordered her to create a scandal, that might’ve been plausible.
But that line of thinking only held before the night he’d spent with Clea.
Because, at the very least, she’d been genuine in that moment.
With those blue eyes focused on no one else,
she’d feverishly marked his skin with her teeth, as if a dying person desperately trying to leave behind a trace of herself.
Admon swallowed, ended his brief reminiscence, and spoke to him.
“What if I was the one who wanted it?”
“Your Highness?”
Countless emotions had surged within him during that single night.
His usually rational, principle-driven heart had been thrown into chaos.
“I feel like getting some fresh air.”
“Your Highness! It’s getting dark!”
Admon looked at his own reflection in the mirror across his office, carrying emotions he’d never felt before.
Thinking of the memory she’d left him, he bit his lip lightly.
For some reason, he desperately wanted to see someone.
Others might’ve called it mere curiosity, but Admon knew with certainty it was far more than that.
As he splashed cold water on his face, he wondered:
If they met again, would he finally understand what this feeling truly was?
When the male lead is punished by carrying the female lead’s child and having periods like a woman
“I’ve given birth to two children for you, yet you still think about him.
Was I nothing but his substitute to you from beginning to end?”
Synopsis:
Meng Huan, a scumbag who has dated countless girlfriends, transmigrates to a female-dominated country.
Day 1: Whether it’s female dominance or not doesn’t matter. The beauties here are passionate and amorous. Isn’t it easier to date them than in modern times?
Day 2: After a night, Meng Huan discovers the differences in the female-dominated world. Men here actually have chastity locks and menstrual cycles. This hinders his ability to perform, damn it!
Day 3: What’s wrong with sleeping around? I don’t want you to marry me. I’m meant to be a playboy. I don’t care about male virtues… What? You want to drown me in a pig cage? Marry, I’ll marry!
Day N: Meng Huan inexplicably vomits and receives the shocking news of his life… He’s pregnant.
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Chapter Comments (17)
Inline Comments (209)
“Your Highness’s lips, perhaps.”
Oooh girl…😏 She wants something else for dinner i see 🙈
At this rate, heading straight to the bedroom instead of dining was only a matte
….😏🙈 You perverts sitting in a tree k.I.S.S.I.N.G😆
He desperately wanted to shout right then and there, grab Clea’s wrist, and drag
These brute losers ….how can their duchy even functioning properly…? That’s what I wanna know
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I wonder if subconciously he knows that she is sick.
Its quite weird that his aide calls her a close friend when its quite clear that Admon barely registers her presence 🤣
Urgh …i love this …she ain’t no damsel in distress, she’s fierce….i think I’m in love