The End Of The Special Contract Marriage (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 4
To Lady Aracila Hugo.
I request the honor of your presence tomorrow at 3 p.m. at Foren Coffeehouse on Seventh Street.
Let us continue our previous discussion from my office in greater detail.
— Damian Vandermir, Knight of the Red Hawk Order.]
It had taken a full week for the reply to arrive.
Glancing at the neat, perfectly upright handwriting, Aracila let out a derisive snort.
So he finally realized I was telling the truth, huh?
Recalling Damian’s unbearably arrogant behavior during her visit to the knight order, she furrowed her brow.
‘Even now, his letter’s tone is still…’
Though phrased politely, the message essentially dictated the time and place without consultation—more a notice than a request. Yet she had specifically asked him in her own letter when would be convenient for him.
Her eyes trailed down to the bottom of the letter, and she muttered under her breath.
“Ugh, what a show-off.”
“Pardon? What is it?”
Audrey, who had been carefully brushing Aracila’s lustrous hair, tilted her head in confusion. Aracila stretched her arm backward and handed the letter to her maid.
“Look at this—he identified himself by his knight order, not his family.”
“Most people would use their family name. He’s certainly unusual.”
“Unusual? No, he’s just ridiculously full of himself. As if anyone’s actually curious about his identity as part of the Red Hawk Order.”
Besides, what she needed wasn’t the leader of the Red Hawk Order—it was the second son of House Vandermir.
“That’s exactly why knights…”
Aracila clicked her tongue lightly, picked up a pen, and drafted her reply.
To Lord Vandermir.
Let’s meet at 5 p.m.
— Aracila Hugo, Mage of the Mage Tower.]
I won’t be outdone by you. One corner of her plump, crimson lips curled upward.
[This is the timeline separator]What time was it now?
Aracila, deeply engrossed in her magical potion research, suddenly lifted her head and checked her pocket watch. 4:30 p.m. Only thirty minutes remained until her appointment with Damian.
Realizing she might be late, Aracila quickly wrapped up her work and grabbed her handbag.
“Senior, are you leaving?”
Sally, who had just entered the lab, widened her eyes in surprise. It was rare to see Aracila preparing to leave while the sun still shone brightly—she was notorious within the Mage Tower for being a workaholic, treating overtime and all-nighters like regular meals.
“Yeah, I have an appointment. Please organize today’s research notes with Rudy and have them on my desk by tomorrow morning.”
“Yes, understood.”
“Good. Keep up the hard work.”
Aracila gave her junior’s shoulder a light pat before striding swiftly out of the Mage Tower.
Beneath a tree near the entrance, Audrey waited with the Hugo Marquisate’s carriage.
“You’re here! I was just wondering whether I should go up to fetch you.”
“Next time, come up. You know I lose track of time when I’m working.”
Once inside the carriage, Aracila immediately instructed the driver to head straight to Foren Coffeehouse on Seventh Street. The coachman urged the horses toward the bustling district.
“Shall we go directly? Shouldn’t you change into a proper dress first?”
“Nah. Frankly, I look even more perfect like this.”
Aracila tossed her hair back with a playful wink. She was currently wearing the white uniform of a Mage Tower mage.
The robe had been modified into a tunic with a long, cloak-like upper section, embroidered with golden Mage Tower insignia. Blue accents adorned the cuffs and collar.
But what truly stood out were the four star badges pinned to her chest.
Though the Mage Tower had no formal internal hierarchy, it awarded star badges to those demonstrating exceptional achievements.
The Mage Tower Head possessed seven such stars in total, and Aracila’s pride—and boast—was earning four of them at such a young age.
“But still…”
“It’s fine, I said. Besides, there’s no time, and I’m pretty enough without any fuss.”
Since this was objectively true, Audrey could offer no further objections.
The carriage soon halted before Foren Coffeehouse on Seventh Street.
“Wait here. I’ll go in alone.”
“Huh? Are you sure that’s alright?”
“What are you worried about? Knights like him aren’t even worth my notice.”
Aracila lifted her chin confidently, speaking with unwavering assurance.
(What I meant was, are you sure Lord Vandermir will be alright with that…?) Audrey swallowed her unspoken words with a sigh.
Having grown up together since childhood—one as a noble lady, the other as her playmate turned maid—their bond ran deep.
In many ways, Audrey was Aracila’s very first friend, and thus knew her better than anyone.
My lady, when angry, tears people apart with magic…
Especially with Damian—she’d barely managed to prevent a full-blown fight during their very first meeting, so her anxiety was only natural.
Leaving her fretful maid behind, Aracila entered the coffeehouse alone. Among the sparsely seated patrons, one man stood out distinctly.
Perched elegantly by the window with one leg crossed over the other, he looked as though he’d stepped straight out of a masterpiece. Late afternoon sunlight scattered perfectly across his flawlessly proportioned features.
But Aracila’s attention wasn’t captured by his dazzling face.
‘Just as I thought—he’s dressed the same way.’
Noting Damian’s knight order uniform, she silently congratulated herself on her sharp judgment for coming directly.
Had she gone home first to change into a dress, she’d have looked ridiculous. Thankfully, she’d be spared the nightmare of thrashing in bed all night with regret.
“Good afternoon, Lord Vandermir.”
Approaching with steady strides, she offered a greeting. Damian, who’d been gazing obliquely out the window, slowly turned his head.
“You’re late, my lady.”
Aracila checked her pocket watch. It was 5:03 p.m.
“Don’t be so petty over three minutes. The only time I visited your knight order in person, you were the one who kept me waiting, remember?”
She snapped back tartly, taking her seat and ordering an herbal tea from a passing server. Damian already had a teacup set before him.
A brief silence passed. Within it, Aracila’s folded arms met Damian’s crossed legs in a calm, wordless clash of gazes.
After a silent staring contest that lasted until her tea arrived, Aracila finally spoke.
“You claimed you had no need of me.”
“…”
“Yet you’ve now decided you do—enough to reply to a letter you’d forgotten until now?”
Her lips curved into a cool, sharp arc. The mischievous, triumphant smile made Damian’s eyebrow twitch.
Though undeniably beautiful enough to draw every bystander’s gaze the moment she entered, the woman before him was far from ordinary.
After all, it was already extraordinary that a noble lady—expected to become a demure noblewoman—had caused an uproar by declaring her ambition to become Mage Tower Head.
‘Why would a peculiar mage who swore off marriage suddenly change her mind?’
Damian’s eyes narrowed slightly, recalling his prior investigations into Aracila.
He clearly stood to gain something through marriage—but what could she possibly want that led her to propose first?
Especially someone with such grand ambitions to become the first-ever female Mage Tower Head.
‘Whatever her reason, as long as it doesn’t hinder my revenge, I don’t care.’
He’d already confirmed there was absolutely no prior connection between Aracila and House Vandermir.
If this wasn’t a trap, Damian was more than willing to use her as a tool for his vengeance.
“Yes, I admit it. I need you, Lady Hugo.”
Aracila’s eyes widened slightly at his unexpectedly straightforward answer.
“Then let’s strike a deal.”
Damian cut straight to the point without unnecessary prelude.
“Tell me what you hope to gain from this marriage.”
“I just don’t want your elder brother and my elder sister forced into this political match.”
Aracila had no interest in House Vandermir’s internal succession struggles—nor in the future rebellion Oscar Vandermir would eventually incite.
All she wanted was her family’s safety and a life fully her own.
“There’s one other thing I want: you must agree to divorce me as soon as possible.”
Only then could her plan to become the next Mage Tower Head remain intact.
“Agreed. I have no desire whatsoever to build a family.”
Damian wasn’t offended by her mentioning divorce even before marriage.
“How about this: no children during our marriage, and immediate divorce the moment I inherit the dukedom. Shall we make that our deal?”
He laid out the specific terms as if he’d been waiting. It wasn’t a bad offer—and explicitly stating no children was even better.
“Clean and clear—I like it. Let’s also have it notarized by the temple and draft a prenuptial contract.”
To guard against any future backtracking, Aracila wanted divine and legal guarantees to cement their contract marriage.
This, too, suited Damian perfectly—he despised being tied down by marriage as much as she did.
“Understood.”
“Then all that’s left is to plan our next steps. By the way, I’ve already told my family we’re getting married.”
Aracila lifted her teacup with grace. Eccentric though she might be called, her noble upbringing showed in these refined gestures.
“I claimed it was a love match to preempt any objections, so you should be aware.”
At the word “love,” Damian hesitated for a split second before nodding in understanding.
“That would indeed make a sudden marriage easier to explain. However, it’s better we keep it secret from House Vandermir until the very last moment.”
“Why?”
“Because they’ll surely interfere if they find out early. The family is pushing my elder brother as the next duke.”
House Vandermir favored the eldest son—not the second—for succession.
Aracila recalled Iris’s words from her prophetic dream: that the two brothers had fought over succession, and Oscar—whom she’d married—ultimately inherited the title.
So this was the hidden dynamic behind how the elder brother had known and exploited that future.
Thinking of the day he’d later betray the empire and ruin his own house, Aracila asked, suspicion in her voice,
“Is your brother’s position truly that unshakable?”
“He is, after all, the current Duchess’s son. My mother was the late former Duchess.”
The fact that the elder brother’s mother was a second wife while Damian’s was the legitimate first wife indirectly revealed the household’s tangled internal politics.
After a moment of silent contemplation, Aracila smiled brightly.
“Then let’s use our wits instead.”
“What do you mean?”
“Rather than scrambling to hide it, let’s create a situation so irreversible that even if they find out, it’ll be too late.”
Marriage was often called a union between noble houses. No matter how secret one tried to keep it, families would inevitably learn before the wedding.
So it was better to set the stage in a way that made their marriage impossible to overturn.
“There’s a grand ball soon, hosted by His Royal Highness the Crown Prince. It’ll be packed with guests—let’s announce our engagement there.”
Damian was momentarily speechless at Aracila’s audacity in proposing to declare their marriage at the Crown Prince’s ball.
“You risk being accused of ruining His Royal Highness’s event.”
“That won’t happen. Frederick’s my friend.”
Her voice, casually using the Crown Prince’s given name, carried deep familiarity. Damian raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised.
“You seem very close to His Royal Highness.”
“Yes, we’ve been friends since the Academy. He’s one of my very few true friends.”
That meant their friendship had lasted from the Academy days right up to the present.
Though momentarily curious about the exact nature of their relationship, Damian decided it wasn’t worth probing further.
‘His Royal Highness’s favor is valuable—but how close they are is none of my concern.’
Setting aside his unnecessary curiosity, he nodded.
“Then so be it.”
Even House Vandermir couldn’t interfere with the Crown Prince’s ball. Provided they avoided scandal, it was the perfect strategy.
“Alright. We’ll sort out the rest gradually.”
With that, both rose to end the conversation.
Generously, Aracila offered Damian her hand for a handshake.
“Looking forward to working with you.”
Damian glanced briefly at her slender, pale hand before giving a small nod.
“The pleasure is mine.”
“…”
Aracila’s smile visibly cracked as he openly declined her handshake right before her eyes.
‘Damn it, seriously?’
Without even a farewell, she spun around and stormed out of the coffeehouse. Damian followed at a leisurely pace.
As twilight approached, an alliance born of mutual purpose had begun.
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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Thank you for translating/sharing this. Such an adorable story!