The Plan of the Terminally-Ill Wife's Divorce (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 6
“Thank you for visiting.”
“Thank you for your hospitality.”
The Duke, wearing a silver mask and accompanied by Daniel, arrived at my room. It was an embarrassingly shabby chamber for the eldest legitimate daughter of a Marquis’s household. Undaunted by its humble appearance, I greeted him gracefully.
Today, my room had been decorated with white and pink blossoms resembling hibiscus.
“This flower is…”
Daniel’s eyes lit up as if he recognized it.
“Here is tea and refreshments.”
The nursemaid who wheeled in the tray looked pale. Moments later, tea and snacks were placed before the Duke and me. The snack was the fruit of this very flower.
〈You asked me to prepare the flower’s fruit?〉
Upon hearing my earlier instruction—delivered while handing her something—the nursemaid had turned ashen.
〈No! How can we possibly serve commoners’ field snack to His Grace the Grand Duke? He’ll surely think you’re joking!〉
〈I have no intention of hiding a single thing about my situation from His Grace. My room will appear exactly as it always does, and so will my meals. Isn’t ‘that fruit’ something I regularly eat myself?〉
It was ironic—the very snack deemed too humble to offer a guest was what Anette habitually ate.
If it became obvious how poorly I was treated within House Fosse, the Duke might pity me and lower his guard, even slightly.
The more my poverty showed, the better—it would make my goodwill toward the Duke understandable.
And that “fruit” I’d instructed the nursemaid to prepare? That was precisely the strongest card I could play before the Duke right now.
The Duke stared intently at me.
‘I knew you’d find this appealing.’
“I prepared this dish after much thought about what might please Your Grace.”
Crunch. Without even offering it to my guest first, I took a bite of the fruit myself.
A strangely sweet yet peculiar flavor spread through my mouth—cotton-candy softness paired with a faint bitterness.
This was certainly no ordinary fruit.
“They say cotton flowers are the most precious blooms because they shield common folk from the cold. I’m delighted I could serve cotton fruit during my first tea time with Your Grace.”
Food and cotton wool—these were precisely what the Duke sought from this political marriage.
“I understand you’ve been camping rather than staying in the mansion, which must be quite inconvenient. Is there anything I might arrange on your behalf under my name?”
Darius snorted.
“Your room appears even smaller and more dilapidated than my tented encampment.”
“You’re absolutely right. The Marquis despises me so thoroughly he’s forgotten I grow older each day.”
Unshaken by his blatant disdain, I smiled.
“That’s precisely why I should leverage my status as the Marquis’s eldest daughter now. Thanks to Your Grace’s visit, I finally possess a measure of power.”
I pushed forward the bowl filled with cotton fruit toward him.
It wasn’t hard to imagine the expression hidden behind his silver mask.
Though easily cultivated in the mild southern climate, this was unobtainable in the North—the very thing they desperately craved, the cause that once drove the North to wage war against the South, their sole hope against bitter northern winters.
As if merely handing him the cotton fruit, I whispered,
“You don’t need something that vanishes when eaten. What if I gave you what the ‘true’ Duke truly desires?”
“What I truly desire?”
Darius’s hand covered mine as I held the cotton fruit. He squeezed tightly, unable to control his strength.
‘Ouch.’
Yet despite the pain, I didn’t lose my smile. Yes—that’s exactly what you’re thinking.
Unlike at dinner on our first evening together, he now ate before me.
[This is the timeline separator]Unripe cotton fruit tastes sweet. Farmers harvesting cotton sometimes snacked on nearby unripe cotton fruits when tired—which was why the nursemaid scolded me, saying, “That’s only fit for commoners!”
‘How spiteful of House Fosse to serve Anette cotton fruit—the very thing that becomes cotton wool when fully ripe—as a snack.’
One might try it playfully once, but it couldn’t compare to real confections.
Could anyone imagine Kaitlyn or her younger brother Simmons being served cotton fruit as a snack?
‘Thanks to this, I found a way to win the Duke’s favor without going far out of my way.’
During the reign of the previous Grand Duke Inkheart—Darius’s grandfather—the North had waged a territorial war just to obtain cotton, which grew only in the South. Considering the North’s harsh cold, southern cotton wool must have seemed invaluable.
Yet they lost. And ever since, House Fosse—the South’s leading family—and House Inkheart—the North’s foremost house—had remained bitter enemies.
And now, I’d hinted that I could give him that very “cotton” which had once driven the North to war.
Seeds and cultivation methods.
Wouldn’t it be far more profitable for the North to grow cotton permanently than to haul away just one cartload?
‘If my guess is correct, the Duke will come to me tonight.’
Informally. Secretly.
Knock knock.
As if answering my thoughts, a knock sounded at the door.
‘Already?’
It was still far too early for such a late hour.
Hopeful, I opened the door—and was disappointed.
“His Grace sends these refreshments.”
It was Daniel, the Duke’s knight, holding a basket of snacks.
“He said today’s tea time left a deep impression.”
So the tea time, featuring only cotton fruit, had been so inadequate that he’d sent a whole snack basket himself.
“I ought to thank him properly, but I’m not pleased.”
At my words, Daniel’s gentle smile froze in place.
“Please tell His Grace: though the snacks are sweet, my heart upon receiving them is not.”
Knowing it was rude, I slammed the door shut the moment I took the basket.
The neatly wrapped snack basket landed directly on the floor.
“You know exactly what I mean.”
A mere polite greeting between the Duke and me wouldn’t suffice. Even if I did nothing, our marriage would proceed smoothly.
What I needed was undeniable affection strong enough to avoid the inevitable relegation to a side residence after marriage.
I had to imprint myself more deeply upon him.
So he’d never see me as just another extra.
[This is the timeline separator]I woke in the middle of the night. Knock, knock. A low, rhythmic tapping reached my ears.
At this hour, visitors could only be assassins or thieves.
But what thief would knock with such courtesy?
‘…Could it be?’
Deciding my silence was answer enough, he abruptly opened the window without waiting.
“How peculiar—to use such a place as your entrance.”
Hah. My lips curled upward involuntarily.
“When one wishes to speak secretly at a secret hour, this is the perfect way in.”
“This is the second time you’ve entered without my permission.”
“I apologize again for my impertinence.”
He certainly had a silver tongue.
Backlit by moonlight pouring through the full-moon-lit window, he appeared dazzling.
Ignoring his nightcap attire, I seated him at the table. The candle flame flickered.
A crisp, cool scent clung to him from outside—not unpleasant at all, but refreshingly sharp, clearing my drowsy mind.
“Once we marry, I suspect I’ll often need to correct Your Grace’s habits.”
Such as picky eating—or barging in without asking my permission.
I began our conversation with a jest. He struck back immediately.
“Will you truly betray your own domain?”
Cotton seeds—the very thing the North yearned for.
As part of the marriage dowry, House Fosse had promised enough cotton wool to clothe half the North’s populace.
Cotton wool was far warmer and sturdier than thin linen—but even durable cotton eventually wore thin after years of use.
The frigid North had always been desperate for both food and cotton wool to keep its people warm. Knowing this, the South deliberately controlled cotton supply.
Of course, there was also ‘leather’ as an alternative. Leather was warmer than cotton—but game wasn’t always caught, and leather cost even more than cotton.
Imagine if the North could cultivate cotton itself instead of importing it from the South.
Darius’s eyes, visible beneath his silver mask, burned crimson.
“You are the eldest legitimate daughter of House Fosse.”
“As you say—I am indeed House Fosse’s eldest legitimate daughter. Bearing my house’s crest, I shall marry into yours and become yours alone thereafter.”
I understood perfectly what it meant: as a daughter of House Fosse marrying into House Inkheart, I’d belong to him.
“The curtains are threadbare, and my room’s security is so lax His Grace may enter freely. You saw it at a glance—but still, I ask: do I appear cherished and beloved in this household to Your Grace?”
House Fosse treated Anette as disposable—a convenient pawn to discard.
That’s why Anette died so easily, without anyone’s help, and vanished instantly from the stage of the original story.
After all, this world existed solely for Darius and Evangeline, its two protagonists.
Why would an extra’s reason for dying matter? Everyone was too busy watching how the heroes lived.
But listen—
It matters to me. This is my life now.
I don’t want to die. Death would hurt, no matter how it came—even in sleep, breathing would grow difficult.
‘No matter how many nights I slept and woke, this still wasn’t a dream.’
Sadly, right after my transmigration, I’d caused a commotion hoping to jump into another body—clinging to the faint hope this might all be a dream.
Yet day after day, I always woke in Anette’s bed, and in the mirror stood a pink-haired girl who shouldn’t exist in reality, staring back at me awkwardly.
She looked at me; I looked at her.
I really was Anette. This life was mine to live.
So I resolved to survive.
When yandere male lead believes she loves him — but she never did
“How dare you!”
“How dare you make me love you, only to cast me aside as nothing more than a friend?!?
“I will never accept that.”
“I will never let you return to him.”
“Even if I have to burn myself to ashes.”
“Even if I must shatter my purity, my dignity, my very soul.”
“I will never let you escape me!”
This was the first novel that introduced me to the matriarchal genre. I’ve read it three times already!
At first, the male lead despised the female lead. Later, he misunderstood that she liked him, so he condescendingly and reluctantly reciprocated her feelings.
Then, he suddenly discovered that she was kind to everyone in the same way, and there was already someone she cherished in her heart, and that person was not him.
The male lead couldn’t believe it, he became angry and crazy. He was determined to capture her body and heart by any means necessary.
Synopsis:
Want to see how a green tea bitch male lead falls in love with the female lead?
Want to see how he flirtatiously pursues the female lead?
Want to see how he gets slapped in the face repeatedly?
The male lead is a green tea bitch, a poisonous lotus, jealous, ruthless, unscrupulous, with a venomous heart, and he’s also a delusional maniac.
The female lead is righteous, positive energy-filled, kind, a holy mother.
Let’s see how two people with extreme personalities come together~
_____
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MANGA DISCUSSION
6 Comments
Chapter Comments (144)
kaitlyn, this is what happens when you get into a fight you can’t win, sweetie ( ꈍᴗꈍ)
it’s good to set the rules in advance. otherwise, disagreements might arise later.
duke, understand our sincerity.
what should we do for you to understand?
Inline Comments (2)
‘Remember the original story. Darius belongs to Evangeline Stockwork.’
Why does she insist that Darius would never like her? Isn’t she already defying the original work by changing the events?
‘In the original story, Anette was assassinated in the annex by Darius’s unknown
Who really could that be? If she was just the arranged wife and an enemy daughter at that, who could possibly plan on killing her?
YOUR COMMENT
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Miioo
What kind of hero is this who doubts Annette about everything? How will he ever like her? Poor Annette, I just hope she finds happiness in this life.
agustus_orchid
anette, you have been abused.
why are people so self-interested?
｡:ﾟ(;´∩`;)ﾟ:｡
agustus_orchid
hey duke, don’t underestimate anette.
anette wouldn’t want to live like this either.
agustus_orchid
anette, i support you.
you’ve already died once, there’s no need to die again.
agustus_orchid
tea time with your future husband is perfect.
accept duke Anette’s sincerity.