The End Of The Special Contract Marriage (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 11
Aracila set down the document and calmly opened her mouth.
“Duchess, your demands seem far too excessive.”
Only someone intending to sell off their own son for profit could possibly act this way. Especially since this marriage wouldn’t even start at a disadvantage for House of Marquis Hugo.
Meeting the demands of House of Duke Vandermir would completely drain Aracila’s fortune.
“Why on earth do you need a new townhouse in the capital…?”
“They say you’ve agreed to move into the mansion where Damian currently lives after the wedding.”
“Yes.”
The two had already agreed not to acquire a new marital home—mainly because they didn’t know when the marriage might end, and Damian had stubbornly insisted on staying in his own house.
“That house originally belonged to our family, so the lady must compensate us accordingly.”
“…”
Yet, at this very moment, Aracila was seriously considering just using her own money to buy a separate marital home.
Rather than unfairly paying for someone else’s house, it would be far better to spend her own money on her own property.
“Duchess, instead of this, why don’t we mutually agree on a reasonable compromise?”
“There will be no compromise, my lady. If you intend to take our precious son from another family, you must naturally offer this much. Surely you didn’t expect to simply take him away for free?”
While uttering words Damian himself would be utterly exasperated to hear, the Duchess elegantly lifted her teacup.
She had clearly decided to force Aracila into breaking off the engagement herself.
“A person must have a conscience. Besides, you may be just an ordinary mage from the Mage Tower, but Damian is a captain leading an entire knightly order.”
“Madam, excuse me, but I am, in fact, a mage of considerable standing within the Mage Tower.”
Aracila’s smile cracked slightly—there was one thing she absolutely wouldn’t tolerate, and that was having her professional accomplishments dismissed.
“Just an ordinary mage”? That was outright insulting.
“So what? Damian is also a Sword Master. All thanks to our family sending him abroad for studies—and now you, my lady, get to reap the fruits of that investment, so you must at least repay us with an appropriate betrothal gift.”
Aracila wondered what kind of thoughts one must harbor daily to feel this entitled toward a stepson.
Moreover, Damian certainly hadn’t been raised as preciously as she claimed.
‘Who in their right mind sends a fourteen-year-old child alone overseas to study?’
It wasn’t for no reason Damian had earned the nickname “Ruthless Knight.” He had clawed his way through harsh conditions to return as a Sword Master.
Yet judging solely by the Duchess’s words now, it sounded as if he’d been pampered like a hothouse flower, groomed through an elite path.
“I absolutely will not yield here. If it’s unacceptable to you, then you, my lady, may cancel the engagement.”
The Duchess finally revealed her true intentions, curling the corners of her lips upward. Aracila once again skimmed the document listing the shamelessly exorbitant sum.
The moment she refused payment, House of Duke would use it as an excuse to postpone the wedding.
They might even scrap the engagement altogether and push forward with Iris’s marriage to Oscar instead.
‘At least this is a problem solvable with money… not the worst scenario.’
Since Iris’s life was worth more than a kingdom’s ransom, Aracila would willingly sacrifice every last coin she owned.
“It will be difficult to prepare the betrothal gift immediately, so please grant me some time, Duchess.”
“Very well. But if you do pay, it must be within fifteen days. After all, you’re the one who scheduled the wedding for a month from now.”
“Understood. Is there anything else you’d like to discuss?”
Setting down her teacup, the Duchess fixed Aracila with a steady gaze. Judging only by her dignified features, she appeared the very model of a noblewoman—graceful, well-educated, and refined.
She had decided to offer some advice to the young, foolish noblewoman who was so eager to marry her troublesome second son, whom she regarded as nothing but a thorn in her eye.
“My lady, consider this as words from a mother to her daughter—listen carefully.”
“Yes, Duchess.”
“You’ll gain nothing good from marrying Damian. The family title will go to my son, and you’ll merely become the wife of an ordinary knight. Born as a daughter of a prestigious house, is that truly how you wish to live your life?”
After all, even the Duchess herself had started as the daughter of a rather insignificant earl’s family before rising to become Duchess Vandermir.
It was the reward for rejecting countless proposals from mediocre men and enduring years as the Duke’s consort.
‘Ordinary women marry to climb higher in status. This lady surely isn’t any different.’
Seeing Aracila fall silent, seemingly lost in thought, the Duchess smiled—clearly, her words had given the girl serious pause.
But what she failed to grasp was that while Aracila did indeed possess ambition, she wished to achieve it through her own efforts, not through someone else.
Having listened patiently to the Duchess’s every word, Aracila finally spoke, her voice clear and resonant.
“Isn’t Lord Vandermir also your son?”
“…!”
Caught completely off guard, the Duchess’s expression hardened instantly. Aracila continued calmly.
“And just a moment ago, you were boasting about him being both captain of the knightly order and a Sword Master—yet now you call him merely ‘an ordinary knight.’ If that’s truly the case, wouldn’t such an extravagant betrothal gift be unnecessary for just an ordinary knight?”
Aracila shrugged her shoulders while shaking the document. The Duchess let out a dry, bitter chuckle.
After extending such generosity, only to receive this reply—it was clear there was no need to continue.
“…Lady Hugo, I’ve felt this since our last meeting—you’re simply impossible to reason with.”
“I’m also confused about which tune I’m supposed to follow—should I treat him as your proud son, or as just an ordinary knight?”
Aracila wrinkled her nose and gave an innocent-looking smile. Her expression was, of course, utterly infuriating.
Glaring coldly at Aracila, the Duchess stood abruptly without another word and left.
“Please take care on your way out, Duchess.”
Aracila courteously offered the proper farewell to her elder, even as the Duchess’s back grew steadily colder and more distant.
Naturally, no reply came—but Aracila didn’t mind. She carefully gathered the documents.
She certainly couldn’t keep something like this to herself alone. She needed to show it to her fiancé right away.
[This is the timeline separator]Ever since the captain’s engagement had been officially confirmed, the Red Hawk Knights had been in an uproar.
A knight marrying the Mage Tower’s representative mage?
Moreover, it was a love match—which made it the talk of the town. While the public expected a grand romance, the knights themselves felt differently.
“Captain, please reconsider this marriage once more.”
“Think of the Literson Case—you must be careful!”
“How can we be sure that woman isn’t another witch with sinister intentions?!”
A swarm of black-armored knights followed Damian closely, clamoring anxiously.
What exactly was this “Literson Case” they kept mentioning?
It referred to the infamous incident where Jonathan Literson—a once-renowned Sword Master and captain of the Imperial Knights—had been murdered shortly after marrying a mage.
This legendary homicide played a major role in the longstanding animosity between mages and knights in the Setron Empire.
His wife, Lexi Literson, had confessed after her arrest that she’d deliberately approached and married him.
‘If Jonathan Literson had been left alive, an era ruled by foolish knights—strong in body but empty in mind—would have come to pass. I merely prevented that unfortunate future.’
Her motive had sent shockwaves through every knight in the Empire—a mage had killed the greatest knight of the age purely to curb the growing influence of the knightly order.
As a result, many within knightly circles still viewed mages—especially female mages—with deep suspicion.
“Captain, please don’t marry a mage!”
“Quiet. Don’t question my decisions.”
Exhausted from his subordinates’ relentless nagging, Damian scowled deeply.
Yet his devoted followers persisted tirelessly.
“They say even within the Mage Tower, she’s considered an odd woman. What if that witch harms you, Captain…?”
“Perhaps that witch is me?”
A clear, melodious voice suddenly cut in. The knights turned—and screamed in shock.
Aracila stood there with her curly hair draped over her face like drawn curtains, her eyes wide and staring blankly.
“Gyaaah!”
“A-a ghost?!”
Several knights, hearts pounding, even collapsed to the ground, their legs giving out.
Damian looked back and forth between his flabbergasted subordinates and Aracila, who stood ghostlike before him.
“What are you doing, my lady? Trying to imitate a ghost?”
“Yes—I figured since you all call me a witch, I’d give it a try.”
Aracila flipped her hair back and offered a cool smile. Audrey, standing behind her, quickly tidied her mistress’s hair.
“You all have such bold tongues for people who’ll soon be addressing me as your superior’s wife. Is speaking ill of a woman behind her back truly your idea of chivalry?”
The knights flinched and averted their eyes. They’d been freely calling Aracila a witch moments ago—but now that she stood before them, they couldn’t even meet her gaze.
Disgusted by their pitiful behavior, Aracila turned her eyes toward Damian.
“Or perhaps your commander simply can’t maintain proper discipline? What do you think, Lord Vandermir?”
She was pointedly referencing the fact that Damian had listened passively to his men’s words.
“My apologies, my lady. This is my fault.”
Damian bowed respectfully, then turned to his subordinates with a fearsome glare and ordered:
“All of you, apologize to Lady Hugo and then run thirty laps around the training grounds.”
“No—make it a hundred laps each.”
“Yes! We’re truly sorry!”
Knowing they were at fault, the knights offered no resistance. They bowed deeply in apology and sprinted off toward the training grounds.
Once they’d disappeared, Damian turned his body slightly to speak.
“We were just…”
“Are you not going, my lord?”
Aracila cut off Damian’s words with a cheerful smile. Noticing her expression, Damian hesitated.
“…Am I going as well?”
“Well, aren’t you?”
Staying silent and listening was itself a form of agreement. Still smiling, Aracila raised her hand and pointed toward the training grounds.
This was the first time in Damian’s life he’d received such a punishment—but since he, too, bore responsibility, he couldn’t protest.
“I’ll go.”
“Good. Since we have matters to discuss, you may run only ten laps as a special exception. Isn’t that generous of me?”
Aracila was magnanimous in her mercy. Aren’t I just so kind?
“…Am I supposed to thank you?”
“Would you prefer a hundred laps?”
Damian lowered his head and wordlessly turned toward the training grounds.
Aracila sat calmly in the office, leisurely enjoying her dessert, and narrowed her eyes when Damian returned after his ten laps.
“You really ran? How come not a single drop of sweat?”
“That’s not enough to make me sweat. My usual training is far more intense.”
“You should’ve mentioned that earlier. Then I’d have just told you to run a hundred laps.”
Damian sat across from her, wearing a slightly exasperated expression. Rubbing his face, he sighed quietly and asked,
“So why did you come all the way here without notice?”
“I met with the Duchess today. She gave this to me—please take a look.”
Aracila handed Damian the Duchess’s document. As he read its contents, Damian’s expression grew increasingly distorted.
“This is outrageous.”
“Isn’t it? Imagine how I felt receiving this out of the blue—she demanded I prepare it within fifteen days.”
Damian’s grip tightened on the paper. Even for a prestigious house, the scale of this betrothal gift was undeniably burdensome.
It was obvious House of Duke was deliberately making excessive demands to sabotage the wedding—but the real problem was that Aracila might genuinely consider calling off the marriage.
After all, dowries and betrothal gifts were the root of nearly every marital conflict.
‘If this marriage falls through, I’ll suffer the greater loss.’
Damian’s dukedom depended on this marriage. Meanwhile, Aracila’s gains from the union remained unclear.
Her stated reason—to prevent her sister’s marriage to Oscar—didn’t strike Damian as compelling enough to guarantee her continued commitment.
Thus, he couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that she might change her mind at any moment.
“If you’re considering canceling the engagement because of the betrothal gift…”
Male lead first thought she played hard to get, only to realize she
really disliked him
Short intro:
What she can’t stand the most is the streets full of effeminate men, especially that so-called top beauty whom she avoids at all costs.
Shen Yaoxing looks at Jiang Mingyue, who keeps approaching her with coy shyness.
Shen Yaoxing: Bro, don’t be like this, I’m really about to throw up!
She fears nothing in heaven or earth, except for him getting close to her.
*
At first he thought she was just using the trick of feigning indifference to attract his attention. Later, he learned that she truly despised him.
This dealt a heavy blow to Jiang Mingyue, and he vowed to make her, like everyone else, fall at his feet in worship!
***
Synopsis:
Before transmigrating, Shen Yaoxing only wanted to find a reliable man to spend her life with. Who knew that after transmigrating, she would become a reliable woman herself…
A forced misandrist, highly skilled, and reliable female lead
vs.
An initially aloof and arrogant, later morbid, obsessed male lead
_____
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Thank you for translating/sharing this. Such an adorable story!