Chapter 1
When I first realized that I had transmigrated into a novel, I already had a husband and a son.
Before I even had the chance to accept that reality or figure out what to do, I was locked away somewhere and loaded onto a carriage bound for the South.
I couldn’t jump off the carriage.
I couldn’t run away in a place where I knew no one.
So what choice did I have? If I wanted to survive, I had to take care of myself first.
My first meeting with my husband was… unusual.
Holding a one-year-old boy with bright, curious eyes in his arms, he glared at me as though I might harm his child.
“Listen carefully to what I’m about to say. There won’t be a grand wedding.”
“Yes. That’s fine.”
I was exhausted.
I hadn’t expected the carriage ride to make me so horribly motion sick.
So instead of protesting, I simply nodded. A lavish wedding? Forget that. All I wanted was to collapse onto a comfortable bed and sleep.
“Don’t even think about acting like the lady of this house or poking your nose into the family’s affairs. I won’t share any information with you.”
“…That sounds wonderful.”
He clearly had no idea how great it was to avoid work.
Besides, leaking information? Why would I involve myself in political struggles? Not a chance.
The original owner of this body might have been the daughter of an enemy family.
But my soul wasn’t.
“Don’t even think about harming the child. There will be no marital relations between us, and there will never be an heir besides this boy.”
“Of course. He’s such a beautiful baby.”
I answered weakly again.
Marital relations?
As if.
I had absolutely no intention of sleeping with a man I’d just met or having children with him.
And hurting the baby?
That adorable little boy?
I’d have to be insane.
I’d already decided that I was going to become a revolutionary new kind of stepmother.
Still holding the baby, my husband continued glaring at me before finally asking,
“…Are you ill?”
“N-No, it’s just… Ugh!”
I’d finally reached my limit.
The nausea burst out uncontrollably.
I stretched out a trembling hand toward my husband, whose face had gone deathly pale.
“P-Please… save me…”
I’ve always gotten terrible motion sickness…
After laying Roana—who had become his wife that very day—on the bed and having the physician examine her, Cheres asked with a serious expression,
“Is she seriously ill?”
“It seems the journey here was very difficult for her. She also appears to have suffered severe motion sickness.”
Cheres frowned slightly.
After handing the child to the nanny, he had personally carried Roana to the bedroom.
Seeing her collapse, pale as a wax doll, had genuinely startled him.
The entrance hall had instantly descended into chaos.
“D-Duchess!”
“She isn’t dead… is she?”
“Don’t be ridiculous! Fortunately, she’s still breathing.”
In the midst of all that commotion, he simply hadn’t felt comfortable entrusting someone who looked as though she were on the verge of death to another person.
“She was lighter than a branch. Could she actually be sick?”
Perhaps the Duke of Hezest had deliberately sent him a sickly daughter.
If Roana died here, they could pin all the blame on Cheres.
He felt guilty for entertaining such thoughts about an ill woman.
But Cheres was the ruler of the South and the head of House Bereydon.
He couldn’t afford to overlook any possibility.
“It may simply be her constitution, or perhaps the two-week journey exhausted her. However, I don’t believe she’s suffering from any serious illness.”
Cheres nodded gravely.
“Make sure she takes her medicine. She must recover as quickly as possible. Inform the head maid to pay close attention to her.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
After dismissing the physician, Cheres sank onto the sofa.
The sudden marriage.
Everything that had happened today.
It had all been mentally exhausting.
Taking the daughter of the enemy House Hezest as his wife had never been his choice.
Had it not been for the complicated political entanglements involving the Imperial Family and both ducal houses, this marriage would never have happened.
This marriage needed to continue peacefully…
…and end peacefully when the time came.
Without giving House Hezest a single excuse to accuse him of anything.
Roana simply needed to remain quiet…
…and quietly leave when everything was over.
That was all Cheres expected from her.
Nothing more.
I slowly opened my eyes.
I’d embarrassed myself terribly in front of my husband.
Fortunately, I was alone.
If he’d been sitting beside me, I would’ve died of embarrassment.
I coughed softly and sat up.
In the novel The Magnificent Return of the Duke of Bereydon, I played the role of the wicked stepmother.
The moment my husband died on the battlefield, I stole the family’s fortune and ran away.
Then, once the male lead grew up, he tracked me down, reclaimed his inheritance…
…and killed me.
That male lead was the adorable baby I’d just met.
His name was Hayden Bereydon.
“That absolutely cannot happen.”
A wicked stepmother?
No way.
I was going to become such an angelic stepmother that the world had never seen anything like me.
Nor did I have any intention of opposing my husband.
The war was going to happen no matter what I did.
There are simply some parts of the future that can’t be changed, even if you know what’s coming.
The original Roana tormented her husband, stole confidential information, looked down on him, and caused endless trouble.
I didn’t want any part of that.
The man was destined to die soon.
I’m not some psychopath.
I’ll live quietly…
…and leave quietly.
That was my goal.
At most, I had six months.
Just six months, Roana.
The next time Cheres saw Roana was in the dining room.
As she looked at him with a bright, cheerful expression, he unconsciously frowned.
Roana was nothing more than a problem the Imperial Family had thrown at him.
It was the Emperor himself who had arranged the marriage between House Hezest and House Bereydon.
House Hezest was the powerful northern ducal family whose influence extended even into the Imperial Court.
House Bereydon ruled the South as one of the Empire’s greatest noble families.
Roana’s father, the Duke of Hezest, had hoped to marry her to the Crown Prince.
Instead, the Emperor, seeking to punish the ambitious Duke for coveting imperial authority, had sent Roana to the South to marry the Duke of Bereydon.
Why Bereydon had been dragged into this political conflict…
…was beyond Cheres.
“Good morning! Oh… what should I call you?”
The woman chatted brightly.
Her voice was completely different from the one that had sounded as though she were dying yesterday.
“…Whatever you find comfortable.”
Cheres answered coldly.
She rolled her eyes thoughtfully before asking,
“Your Grace?”
He silently stared at her.
“…Cheres?”
He let out a sigh.
“My dear?”
His brows immediately knitted together.
“Hmm… What would you prefer I call you?”
Cheres fixed her with an icy stare.
Meeting his gaze, she awkwardly scratched her cheek.
“Cheres. Just call me Cheres.”
“Okay. Then I’ll call you Cheres.”
Roana smiled awkwardly.
“Thanks to you taking care of me yesterday, I slept really well. The bed was so comfortable.”
“…Do you remember what I told you yesterday?”
he asked coldly.
Seeing her smile so brightly made him wonder whether yesterday’s conversation had simply been a hallucination.
Considering how severe her motion sickness had been, perhaps she’d forgotten everything.
“Of course! How could I forget? First, don’t expect a wedding. Second, don’t interfere in anything. No stealing confidential information. Third, don’t approach Hayden. Is that right?”
“I’m glad you remember.”
“Yes. I’ll make sure to follow all of it.”
Her determined smile left him strangely unsettled.
She was smiling…
While agreeing to all of that?
He’d expected her to be offended.
Instead, Roana turned the usually silent breakfast table into a lively place.
“The soup is delicious! Is this crab soup? It really settles my stomach.”
“…I’m glad.”
“Oh! Mashed potatoes! I didn’t know they made them like this here. Cheres, you should eat more! The chef is incredibly talented.”
As she spoke, Roana looked at him with an oddly sympathetic expression.
What was that look?
For some reason, it irritated him.
He frowned deeply.
Before he could ask what she meant, however, the expression vanished.
“Cheres, would you like some of mine? I’ll serve you another helping.”
“…No. This is enough.”
He couldn’t understand her at all.
Yesterday she’d collapsed without warning.
Today she wouldn’t stop talking.
Just what kind of daughter had House Hezest sent him?
And for what purpose?
House Hezest had four daughters.
The eldest had married into the family through a live-in husband.
The second daughter, Roana, had been intended to become Crown Princess.
The third was rumored to be marrying a marquis.
Only the youngest daughter remained unmarried.
Hadn’t the third daughter’s wedding only recently taken place?
House Hezest truly was remarkable.
Its members were cunning through and through.
Surely Roana was hiding some ulterior motive as well.
Her behavior was suspicious enough.
Normally, noble ladies brought trusted maids from their family when they married.
But Cheres had never intended to allow Hezest’s servants into Bereydon.
Yet, strangely enough, Roana had willingly sent back the personal maid she’d brought with her.
Because of that, he planned to assign one of Bereydon’s own maids to attend her.
He would uncover every one of her hidden intentions.
“Wow! This grilled salmon is amazing! They say salmon is really healthy. Cheres, have some more.”
How long had they even known each other?
And yet she acted so familiarly.
That, too, was probably part of her strategy.
