Woke Up And I'm A Married Woman (17 Chapters Left to Complete) - Chapter 4

Thus, three years passed after my regression.

Grisha was a trustworthy expert, so he didn’t even worry about scenarios like failing to awaken. Since the coma caused by magical exhaustion was essentially a state where the body had halted completely, there was no risk of hunger or illness.

‘My only concern was that I’d be defenseless against external harm.’

If someone already wanted me dead, and I fell into a coma, wouldn’t they kill me as easily as twisting a newborn’s wrist?

To protect me, Grisha decided to personally warn the Periway Baron’s household. I didn’t hear it myself, but it was probably something like this:

[A mage in a coma due to magical exhaustion will awaken automatically once their magic is replenished. If they die while in that state, the cause is clearly murder by an outsider.]

In the end, Diana apparently couldn’t act because of Grisha’s warning.

‘My body seems perfectly fine.’

After moving for the first time in a long while, my muscles felt stiff. However, thanks to steadily regaining magic while lying still, my physical condition felt even better.

Though, of course, it still fell far short of even the tip of my original magical capacity.

‘If I’d known it would turn out like this, I should’ve used an offensive spell instead of time reversal magic.’

Since I’d always researched spacetime magic, I’d instinctively cast a large-scale spell to reverse time across the entire world in that moment.

‘Regretting the past won’t change anything.’

Right now, I had only one question on my mind.

“I answered your questions honestly, so will you answer mine?”

I asked with a faint smile.

“Who are you?”

I was asking who this man was—someone who’d approached me so naturally and started speaking.

Moonlight streamed through the window into the dark room, tracing a pale outline along his profile. His silvery-gray eyes were as sharp as blades. There wasn’t a trace of warmth in him.

‘He definitely doesn’t seem fond of me.’

To be precise, he probably felt absolutely nothing toward me at all. The real question was why an unfamiliar man was sitting so casually in my bedroom.

‘Has the world changed so drastically during the three years I was asleep?’

I scratched my head. He grimaced as if thoroughly annoyed. That rough expression suited his strong-featured face surprisingly well.

‘Is he a swordsman?’

A long scar stood out on his forearm. The mark on his jaw suggested the same. Surely no one would slash their own face and arms with a kitchen knife.

‘…Then again, if it were me, I might’ve burned myself while cooking.’

Thinking of my own clumsy, heavy-handedness, I pouted slightly.

His revealed identity was something I’d never have imagined.

“For starters, I’m your husband.”

“Huh?”

My mouth dropped open in shock. What did he just say?

Husband?

The man who becomes a woman’s spouse through marriage?

I turned to him with an expression questioning whether I’d heard correctly, and he gave a small nod. His face held no hint of amusement.

I narrowed my eyes. My memory was sharp enough to boast about to others.

“I’ve never been married. Besides, I’ve never even seen your face before?”

So don’t even think about telling clumsy lies.

Seeing my expression, the man sighed again, then answered with an utterly exhausted look.

“That makes sense. You were in a coma, and the marriage took place while you were unconscious.”

“…Excuse me?”

His answer was so absurd that even my sharp mind momentarily stalled.

Had I been so immersed in research at the academy that I’d lost touch with the world? Who in their right mind would marry a bride in a coma? Was that even remotely acceptable?

‘Marriage is a social contract, after all. Why marry a woman who can’t fulfill a wife’s role?’

One plausible reason occurred to me. I asked carefully,

“Ah… Do you happen to have a thing for sleeping women?”

At my question, his straight forehead furrowed deeply. As I’d noticed earlier, his scowling face was strangely well-suited to such expressions.

“Don’t say disgusting things.”

“Then why did you marry a woman in a coma?”

“Because I had to.”

“Other than your ‘preference’?”

“I don’t know why you keep jumping to that conclusion. I haven’t so much as touched your finger, so erase that word from your mind.”

“I just assumed that, because your manner of addressing me felt so natural.”

I thought you might be the type who falls for Snow White after she bites a poisoned apple.

Marriages—especially inefficient contracts like this—are usually made for two reasons: love or necessity.

Since it wasn’t love, it must’ve been necessity. And the only necessity a comatose mage could offer was…

I crossed my arms and asked,

“Did you marry me for the Archmage’s inheritance I’m supposed to receive?”

Trying to claim a share of the inheritance using your status as my husband?

Once again, he frowned deeply and answered gruffly,

“I already have more money than I know what to do with. I told you—I had to marry you for a specific reason. Let me be clear: it wasn’t an illegal abduction marriage. It was a legal union, approved by His Imperial Majesty.”

Ah, so he’s rich. And it was even a legal marriage?

‘That’s laughable.’

How could a marriage be legal when one party couldn’t even express consent? I smiled wryly and pointed this out,

“How can there be marriage vows if the bride was in a coma? Who did you even exchange vows with?”

But once again, his answer caught me off guard.

“Your younger sister arranged this marriage. She took your place and exchanged the vows.”

“Huh?”

Diana?

“She asked me to become your husband so that, whenever you woke up, you’d transfer your inheritance to her. She claimed spouses share joint property rights.”

He curled the corners of his mouth as if mocking my wide-eyed shock. But his eyes remained sharp, his brow furrowed—his expression radiated cold ridicule.

“You’ve got quite the wonderful little sister.”

“…Indeed.”

It seems my sister couldn’t kill me, so she sold me off instead.

[This is the timeline separator]

Let’s rewind a bit—to one year ago.

Cedar rested his chin in his hand, lazily staring down at the trembling woman before him.

She had large, round eyes and luscious golden hair. Though her gentle, lovely features marked her as a beauty, her crimson eyes occasionally flashed with the intensity of a flickering candle flame.

Cedar frowned. He’d wielded a sword against people for over a decade. Having met—and cut down—all sorts of humans, he could tell exactly what kind of person someone was just from a passing glance.

This was the face of greed—destined to fall into hell for its insatiable desire. And she wouldn’t be falling alone.

‘I shouldn’t even be speaking to someone like this.’

If this were a battlefield, he’d have scared her off immediately. Just drawing his sword would’ve sent her scurrying like a rat.

But this was a ballroom, and instead of a sharp blade, he was tightly bound in ornate clothing.

Moreover, this banquet was the young Emperor’s first birthday celebration since his recent coronation. Too many eyes were watching.

‘Frankly, I don’t care what others think.’

The young Emperor was Cedar’s only true friend and the person to whom, as the Grenit family’s heir, he owed his loyalty. He had no choice but to endure until the end.

‘If she calculated this meeting so precisely, I want even less to do with her.’

Cunning, meticulous, and greedy? She wouldn’t just drag herself into hell—she’d pull everyone around her down with her.

Cedar resolved to coldly reject whatever she said and walk straight out to the terrace.

That was, until she got to the point.

“Please marry my older sister!”

“…Hah?”

How often in life does one hear something this insane? And about someone else—her sister, no less?

Cedar’s thick eyebrows shot upward. He gave a cold smile and rested his chin in his hand again.

“Is that a creative variation on contract marriage?”

“Huh? A variation?”

“There are so many young ladies who’ve approached me with contract marriage proposals based on their own fantasies that I’ve lost count. Isn’t there even a popular novel about contract marriages circulating lately?”

“R-Really?”

For the first time, her composure cracked. Clearly, she hadn’t expected Cedar to know about contract marriage novels.

‘Still, your sister’s quite original.’

He could give her some creativity points for that. Cedar gestured for her to continue. The girl, now visibly nervous, pressed on.

“My name is Diana Periway. My older sister is Nelly Periway.”

“Periway? The Archmage’s lineage?”

“Yes. My sister is that very Archmage.”

“Well, now a surprisingly formidable figure appears.”

The Empire-born Archmage had been the talk of high society. Even the newly crowned young Emperor had shown interest in her—though she’d fallen into an unresponsive state before she could accept his invitation.

“But isn’t she in a coma right now? It’s such a rare case that mages from the Academy have been flocking daily for examinations.”

At Cedar’s words, Diana’s brow furrowed.

“You seem well-informed?”

There were reasons he knew—but he didn’t need to explain them to her. Cedar scowled and gave a fierce smile.

“How exactly do you expect me to marry someone in a coma?”

If she’d wanted attention, she’d already succeeded. Cedar, no longer interested in wasting time on nonsense, rose from his seat.

“I’ll take my leave, then.”

“Wait!”

If Diana hadn’t stopped him, the conversation would’ve ended there. Dropping her previously demure act, she spoke urgently yet calculatedly.

“A family member can express consent on behalf of an incapacitated person for marriage, can’t they?”