This Marriage Must End in Tragedy (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 6
“Here, the documents you requested. I apologize—the person wasn’t very active, so there isn’t much material.”
“This much is sufficient. Thank you.”
Damion accepted the documents handed over by the butler Nouvel and smiled contentedly. Once Nouvel quietly exited the room, Damion opened the papers.
Rain Arel. The woman had lived under that name for a year.
Her current residence was a shared apartment on Wart Street in the southern Saul region. She worked at the estate of Viscount Jiden in the south, serving the viscount, his wife, and their son and daughter.
Her financial situation was poor. She had even incurred significant debt to buy medicine for the countess.
“The interest is greater than the principal.”
He knew there were few places to borrow money urgently, but it seemed she’d fallen into the hands of a particularly ruthless lender.
Damion briefly raised an eyebrow, then casually turned the page.
The documents also included records from when she was Ansi de Rubelsa—whom she frequently associated with, what she liked, and what kind of woman she was. As he quickly scanned the text, the corners of his mouth lifted.
He was thoroughly delighted at the thought of using her.
“Now I can finally collect my due, Colonel Rubelsa.”
The low murmur spread through the room.
He recalled Colonel Rubelsa’s face—determined yet filled with fear—as he had made his proposal.
〈Save Countess Rubelsa. Save my wife.〉
That was a story Damion had heard back when he served under Colonel Rubelsa.
The colonel had claimed his wife would throw herself into the Venu River. It hadn’t been mere speculation—he’d even specified exactly when and where it would happen.
As if making a prophecy.
Honestly, Damion had been about ninety percent skeptical.
Though this nation worshipped countless gods, including the chief deity Liento, Damion believed such things were merely psychological comforts.
Prophecies were no different—utterly nonsensical tales.
Yet with that remaining ten percent of belief, instead of dismissing the story outright, he’d asked a question.
〈If it’s true, why don’t you go yourself, Colonel?〉
〈I have a bad premonition. I’m not certain I’ll still be alive by then.〉
The colonel’s expression had been grim. Knowing he wasn’t one to speak nonsense, Damion ultimately accepted his proposal.
〈I promise I’ll save your wife. In return, you must not tell this to anyone else—only me. We must minimize variables.〉
〈Thank you. If I’m gone by then… may I entrust my family to you? In exchange, I’ll grant you a portion of my estate.〉
Damion had even secured a written statement guaranteeing his share of the inheritance as payment for fulfilling that request.
But he never received his due. The colonel died on the battlefield just days before his wife’s suicide attempt, and his entire estate was confiscated—leaving Damion with no legal claim to any inheritance.
He couldn’t collect his payment, and honestly, the whole affair still seemed absurd. Yet breaking a promise to the dead left an unpleasant feeling.
In the end, Damion went to the Venu River in the capital.
And there, he learned the colonel’s words had been true.
A thin, middle-aged woman shuffled along, then without warning, threw herself into the water.
Damn it. Cursing under his breath, Damion leapt in.
Thankfully, the countess appeared unharmed when he pulled her ashore—only her eyes were hollow, devoid of light.
Staring into those vacant eyes, Damion was suddenly seized by terror.
A terror he’d felt once before.
〈Are you alright?〉
People rushed over, shouting anxiously.
Damion quickly slipped away.
Only then did the colonel’s story feel real. The secret of Rubelsa struck him with crystal clarity.
〈Those who carry on Rubelsa’s bloodline can foresee mortal peril threatening their loved ones. And by preventing it, they can alter the future.〉
〈And what is the price you pay for this, Colonel?〉
To foresee death. That was intriguing. But all things were zero-sum—if one gained, one also lost. The predetermined future couldn’t simply be rewritten.
〈The price… is my lifespan.〉
〈…!〉
〈The choice is yours. If you do nothing, nothing will happen. But if you attempt to change the future, you’ll instinctively realize it—my death draws nearer as well.〉
After saving the countess, Damion investigated the average lifespans of the Rubelsa family.
Indeed, the Rubelsas tended to die young. Every heir to the earldom suffered this fate, and even those not in direct line—including the count’s children—were affected.
Perhaps, he thought, he could claim the price the count himself had failed to pay.
Ansi de Rubelsa.
Daughter of Count Rubelsa.
She, too, could prevent misfortune from befalling her loved one.
Back then, he’d considered it merely a possibility. Thus, even when Ansi disappeared without a trace while he weighed its necessity, he hadn’t felt much regret—only mild disappointment.
But a few months ago, amid gunfire that seemed aimed directly at him, he’d realized:
Someone within had used the chaos of battle to try to kill him. And he knew it had been orchestrated by Cardian de Orphe—his own brother.
‘Cardian’s plaything.’
That had always been Damion’s value in the House of Duke Orphe.
Enlisting in the military had been a convenient excuse for Damion to discard that role. He’d believed that if he stayed out of Cardian’s sight, he might finally find his own meaning in life.
So, away from Cardian’s gaze, Damion built his own foundation. He drove himself relentlessly until he could exist without the title “of Orphe.” Freedom, though still invisible, seemed just within reach with a little more effort.
But to Cardian, a plaything that no longer served its purpose needed to disappear.
How easy it was to kill a man on the battlefield.
The subordinate who’d tried to kill him later confessed it was Cardian’s doing—then took his own life—not to punish Cardian, but to ease his own guilt.
From that moment on, Damion saw every comrade as an enemy. He could no longer trust them with his back.
Upon returning to the capital after an early discharge, Damion watched Cardian smile.
〈Welcome back, Mion.〉
Both knew the unspoken words: Welcome back to being my plaything.
That was when Damion decided.
He would reach the pinnacle of House Orphe—the position where he alone could define his worth.
And for that, he needed the ability of Ansi de Rubelsa.
To ensure no one could kill him once he showed his claws. To survive to the very end, unbroken, and seize what he desired.
She, knowing nothing, would likely see him as the rope of hope sent to save her. Since she was born to such a fate, he hoped she’d fulfill it—for his sake.
“Ansi de Rubelsa.”
The bulwark against his misfortune.
May the brief peace I grant you become such profound happiness that you willingly trade your own lifespan for it.
With genuine sincerity, Damion closed the file on Ansi.
[This is the timeline separator]Ansi met Lady Trishi of House Jiden on the morning of the day she was supposed to meet that man.
“Rain.”
Trishi called out her name the moment she spotted Ansi heading for the back gate to leave work. Ansi turned around and bowed her head.
“I’m going on a picnic. You’re coming with me.”
“I’m sorry, my lady, but I have plans after work. You’ll need to take another maid.”
Trishi’s expression hardened at those words. Arms crossed in displeasure, she glared pointedly at Ansi.
The dismissal never came. Instead, Trishi huffed, turned her head away with an air of indifference, and strode toward the main gate.
“You’re not leaving now. Rain, you’re helping me with my picnic today.”
Her full, soft-yellow dress fluttered as she walked. Despite the arbitrary decision, her personal maid gestured urgently for Ansi to follow.
Ansi suppressed a sigh and quietly trailed behind, calculating the time left until her appointment. Three hours. Still enough time. It was wiser to comply reasonably than refuse outright.
The picnic spot was a beach ten minutes by carriage from the viscount’s estate. While Trishi strolled along the soft sand with a cheerful smile, Ansi arranged refreshments on the mat where Trishi would sit.
On several delicate plates adorned with floral patterns, fruits, sandwiches, and cookies were neatly arranged by type. Her efficient, unadorned movements left the spread looking perfectly tidy.
But when Trishi returned, she immediately scowled and let out an annoyed sigh.
“These are the cookies I hate! Didn’t you check before coming?”
Though Ansi hadn’t prepared the refreshments herself, the reproachful glare was fixed squarely on her.
She hadn’t expected otherwise—such incidents had happened many times before. She knew Trishi was merely using this as an excuse to vent her frustration.
Out of habit, Ansi lowered her head, silently hoping this moment would pass without incident.
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
1 Comment
Chapter Comments (1)
Trishi is terrible. I hope she gets put in her place. I also hope this viscount son isn’t a loser, but I don’t have high hopes.
Inline Comments (3)
“In fact, he once told me he wished to entrust you to me.”
He is so calculating. It will be all the more satisfying when he falls in love for real.
Wasn’t this a moment too captivating to look away from?
She’s just going to embarrass herself. Someone smarter would wait to confront instead of causing a commotion in front of everyone.
“S-sorry.”
Damion may be conniving and manipulative, but he’s at least protective of Ansi even while she is not around.
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AllByMyself
Damion is selfish to think Ansi should give up her life span for him. However, considering he saw her almost end herself, he probably thinks if she wants to end things she might as well help him in the process.