The End Of The Special Contract Marriage (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 12
“I have no intention of doing that.”
Aracila flatly denied it. She genuinely seemed unwilling to cancel the marriage over the dowry issue.
“I can provide the dowry exactly as demanded. It would sting a bit, but it’s not as if I don’t have that amount of money.”
She held up two fingers toward Damian, who was silently staring at her.
“There’s something else bothering me.”
Aracila folded one finger down.
“First, must we really live in the Vandermir mansion after marriage? Let’s just get a new house.”
“That won’t be possible. I’ve been away from the duchy for a long time, so my influence within the family is weak. At the very least, I need the Vandermir mansion in the capital under my control.”
Damian wasn’t insisting on using his current residence as their marital home out of preference. It was necessary to secure even a minimal foothold within the family.
For example, Albert, who currently served as Damian’s butler, came from a long line of butlers who had served House of Duke Vandermir for generations.
Once Damian inherited the ducal title, people like Albert would be his greatest allies.
“Fine, I understand. That makes sense. Then, secondly—if I give in too easily, they’ll think I’m a pushover. What do you think, my lord? If I comply with the dowry, what will they demand next?”
Even if this dowry issue could be settled with money, giving in too readily would only invite more disrespect.
Moreover, House of Duke Vandermir wasn’t financially destitute, so once the dowry was settled, another attack would inevitably follow.
“Besides, I need to handle all marriage-related issues—including the dowry—on my own. If my family finds out, they’ll surely oppose sending me to such a household. They all love me too much.”
This marriage wasn’t meant to disadvantage House of Marquis Hugo or Aracila. There was no reason to tolerate unreasonable demands just to marry off their beloved second daughter.
After all, hadn’t her family already accepted Aracila’s lifelong stance on remaining single?
If things turned out like this, they’d undoubtedly urge her not to marry at all and just live alone. Aracila had no desire to face opposition from both the duke’s household and her own family.
“Please prepare only half of the requested dowry items, including the trousseau and the house. I’ll handle the rest myself.”
After a moment of thought, Damian spoke in a low voice. Everything Aracila had said was undeniably correct.
Those people weren’t the type to show mercy just because someone submitted meekly. On the contrary, they’d exploit that weakness to torment them even more cruelly.
To maintain their contract marriage, he had to actively protect Aracila.
“If any problems arise from now on, please tell me immediately. I’ll take care of them. You, my lady, can stay out of it.”
Determined to prevent Aracila from changing her mind, Damian spoke firmly.
But as she began preparing to leave, she gave him an unexpected reply.
“Why do you keep telling me to stay out of it? Aren’t we partners on the same boat now? We should face difficulties together.”
Her words, spoken so casually, struck something deep within him—especially for Damian, who had fought alone all his life.
Just as he involuntarily hesitated, Aracila spoke again.
“Besides, I’m not the type who can just take things lying down. I need to return everything double to feel satisfied. Don’t even think about taking away my joy of putting people in their place.”
“…I won’t take it away.”
Damian suddenly deflated, covering his eyes with his palm. Aracila grinned sweetly.
“Don’t worry—I’m not reckless enough to charge in without thinking. I’ll cooperate reasonably within my tolerance.”
“And how much is your tolerance?”
“Hmm… about as rude as you are, my lord?”
“You don’t seem very patient.”
“It’s my excessive kindness that’s the problem. How else can someone as soft-hearted as me survive in this world?”
Damian let out a dry chuckle at Aracila’s shameless remark, delivered without batting an eye.
“I’m off now. Next time, keep your subordinates’ mouths shut—and clean your own ears well too.”
Aracila gave a quick nod, shut the door with a firm click, and left. Damian, left alone, muttered quietly.
“She’s certainly not ordinary.”
[This is the timeline separator]Marchioness Hugo had her dreams about her daughter’s wedding.
She imagined amicably choosing wedding dresses and accessories at leisure, touring venues together, and staying up late whispering excitedly about how the ceremony should unfold.
But those dreams shattered the moment her unruly second daughter became the first among her children to marry.
She now had to rush wedding preparations as if chased by debt collectors and scold her indifferent daughter, who showed little enthusiasm for the ceremony.
“It’s your own wedding—please show some effort.”
Sighing, the marchioness dragged the reluctant Aracila into the dressmaker’s shop once again that day.
“If you appear even slightly lacking at the wedding, people will talk behind your back.”
“Then I’ll go bite them myself.”
Aracila’s voice drifted from behind the curtain as she tried on a wedding dress. Exasperated by the childish retort, the marchioness sank onto the sofa, rubbing her temples.
“Oh dear, what am I to do with her? I always thought Iris would be the first to marry.”
She glanced wistfully at her eldest daughter, who had accompanied them. She’d planned to marry off the composed and dignified Iris first and keep Aracila close.
But now, with everything going the opposite way, she was worried all over again.
“She only speaks playfully like that—Ari will do fine, Mother.”
“Yes, I suppose I must believe that. At least now it’s your turn to marry. Is there a young man you’ve set your heart on? Or shall I ask Madam Callie to help?”
Madam Callie was a renowned matchmaker in the capital’s social circles, having arranged countless successful marriages.
Iris hesitated briefly before smiling gently and shaking her head.
“I’ll take my time looking too. I’ll let you know if I don’t find anyone suitable.”
“Of course, of course. Iris, you’ve always been the kind who handles things well without needing to be told.”
“Wouldn’t it be exciting if, after all this, Sister never got married?”
At the mischievous remark, the marchioness shot a sharp look toward the curtain.
“Aracila, I told you to watch your words! Don’t say things that ruin your sister’s prospects.”
At the stern warning, silence fell behind the curtain. The marchioness turned back to her eldest daughter and took her hand.
“I only have you, Iris. You understand, don’t you? My hopes rest most on you.”
“Yes, I understand. Don’t worry.”
“At least I still have you—that’s my greatest comfort.”
Her youngest son was still far too young, and her second daughter had never listened to a word since childhood.
In such circumstances, had Iris—always so mature and considerate—also been absent, the marchioness would have been utterly overwhelmed.
“Mother, please stop burdening Sister so much.”
The curtain parted, and Aracila emerged in her wedding dress. The marchioness narrowed her eyes and walked over.
“Then why don’t you try being even half as good as your sister! You never listen to me, yet you’re always arguing back!”
“Ow!”
Aracila winced as her mother finally swatted her back.
The marchioness straightened her daughter’s shoulders and scrutinized the wedding dress carefully.
The tube-top neckline suited Aracila’s long, graceful neck. A seamstress pinched the loose fabric at her waist.
“It’s all fine, but the neckline is too plunging. A wedding dress looks most beautiful when it’s modest.”
“I don’t mind.”
“I do, so no complaints. Let’s look at another dress.”
As the marchioness left with the employee to choose a new dress, only the sisters remained in the fitting room. Iris approached her younger sister.
“Seeing you in a wedding dress really makes it feel like you’re getting married for real.”
“How do I look? Am I okay?”
“Yes, you’re beautiful. It suits you well.”
“Thanks, Sister. Honestly, I look good in anything.”
At her little sister’s confident reply, Iris smiled softly and gazed at Aracila with a hint of melancholy.
“I’m glad you’re marrying for love… but it feels strange. You never told me anything all this time.”
“Sorry—secret romances are supposed to be thrilling precisely because they’re kept secret.”
Aracila lied with perfect composure and shamelessness. But given her personality, it sounded entirely plausible, so Iris sensed nothing amiss.
“True—marrying for love is already a blessing. If it were an arranged marriage, I’d be the one wearing this dress instead of you.”
“Why? Maybe I’d be the one getting married even in an arranged match.”
“I wouldn’t have allowed that. How could I sacrifice you for a political marriage?”
At those words, Aracila stared intently at her sister. She shared the same stance—never sacrificing a sibling for political gain.
But perhaps because Iris had always yielded to her younger siblings, those words carried extra weight.
“So it’d be fine if you were the one sacrificed?”
“That’s not what I meant, Ari.”
“But it is. Otherwise, why would you have to marry instead of me if it were an arranged match?”
“Because… you have dreams.”
Iris gently brushed her sister’s shoulder and answered softly.
“As your elder sister, it’s only right that I help you achieve your dreams.”
“Don’t you have dreams too? You must have some.”
“…I’m not sure.”
Iris stepped back with a faint smile. Since childhood, Aracila’s dream had always been to become a mage.
In contrast, Iris had grown up without any particular dream of her own. Thus, her sister—who chased her dreams with single-minded focus—always seemed to shine brighter.
“If I had to name one, I suppose my dream is to have a good marriage.”
“But that’s Mother’s dream, not yours.”
Iris couldn’t deny Aracila’s immediate retort. Grabbing her sister’s hand as her expression grew complicated, Aracila urged,
“Find your own dream. You’re still young—you can do anything, not just get married.”
Iris was only a year older than Aracila. At her age, she could pursue any ambition she chose.
‘My dream…’
For Iris—who had always strived to meet her parents’ expectations and embrace her siblings with gentle generosity—it was an unfamiliar notion.
“Aracila, come try on this dress.”
Just then, the marchioness returned with the employee and a new gown.
Their conversation faded naturally, but for the rest of the visit, Iris couldn’t properly focus on her sister’s wedding dress shopping.
Male lead fell into her trap — and shattered when she walked away
This is also on my reread list!
This one is a slow burn, but when it burns, it burns hard.
Definitely worth a read, y’all!
The story follows a thousand-year-old seductive spirit who, on a bet, sets out to charm the male lead—a once-promising but unfortunate cultivator.
But just when she succeeds in making him fall for her, she heartlessly leaves, driving him to madness.
Determined to find her at all costs, he captures her, keeping her by his side no matter what, even if she hates him.
I love this kind of trope—I enjoy watching the male lead suffer in agony.
The ending drags a bit with unnecessary filler, but that’s fine.
As long as I enjoy the beginning, I’m good.
Intro
As an enchantress, Su Heng possesses captivating eyes and charming beauty, easily manipulating the joys and sorrows of living beings at her fingertips.
But to enchant a god, making him taste the bitterness of love’s separation, long-lasting resentment, unattainable desires, and inability to let go…
Do you dare?
Su Heng assists a divine lord in his cultivation, aiming to make him experience all the sufferings of love, so that he can attain the Great Dao.
Only after being chased down from the heavens by the divine lord, confined and completely possessed by him, does she realize how successful she has been.
The once gentle and polite youth has transformed into someone she no longer recognizes.
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Thank you for translating/sharing this. Such an adorable story!