She locked eyes with the man leaning crookedly against the hallway wall.
Estelle quickly brushed past him.
"Estelle."
"..."
"Estelle!"
The man who called her name again muttered a low curse and hurried after her.
"Are you ignoring me right now?"
His green eyes gleamed with malice.
"That's right, Mathias."
Mathias Bellonsa.
The eldest son of the Bellonsa family and Estelle's stepbrother.
She could say with certainty that their relationship was worse than that of strangers.
["What? Brother? Don't ever call me that again, you filthy beggar who crawled in from who-knows-where."]
When she was young, she clearly remembered Mathias rapping her forehead and scolding her.
Fortunately, after that, she never again—even by mistake—called him "brother."
He was neither someone she acknowledged as an elder sibling nor someone worthy of respect.
"A useless, reckless business addict. He probably spent most of the money I brought in."
Every time Mathias started a new business, he would loudly proclaim that this time, he would succeed in a big way.
But all he ever did was invest in a wide range of ventures and squander their wealth just as widely.
"You've got to be kidding me."
"If you're going to hit me, go ahead. But you'd better be ready to explain to everyone exactly why my cheek is swollen."
She responded coolly to the man who couldn't control his temper and was about to raise his hand just because she talked back once.
Caught off guard, Mathias slowly lowered his hand.
"Haa. If it weren't for the banquet… I'm letting this slide."
A bully to the weak, a coward to the strong.
There was no better way to describe Mathias.
Even now, his pathetic attempt to save face was utterly laughable.
Pfft.
Estelle gave a small, scornful laugh and brushed past him coldly, as if she couldn't bear to look at him a moment longer.
But Mathias, oblivious to the mockery, followed her all the way to the carriage and held out his hand.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm your partner for tonight."
When Estelle openly showed her disgust, Mathias puffed up with pride.
"Did you really think Father would send you alone?"
He called himself her "partner," but what he really meant was that he was there to keep an eye on her.
'They'll be watching me even more closely now that a marriage is approaching.'
It was a warning not to even think of doing anything reckless.
"Do as you like."
Ignoring the hand extended toward her, Estelle climbed into the carriage.
Mathias quickly followed and took the seat across from her.
He seemed to have dressed up a bit for the banquet.
But true to form, he roughly undid the top buttons of his shirt, as if unable to break his bad habits.
"I heard from Father—he's remarrying, isn't he?"
"..."
"You were going to go through with the marriage anyway, so why try to kill yourself? Did you think that would get you out of it? If that's what you thought, you were dead wrong."
"Even if you try dying again, it won't change anything, so don't you dare pull that crap ever again."
The more he spoke, the more riled up Mathias became, gritting his teeth.
Was it the fury of almost losing the golden goose?
To Estelle, Mathias's threats were nothing but revolting.
"Where else could you find someone who makes money as easily as you? All you have to do is walk down the aisle and a fortune drops in your lap—what's so hard about that that you had to make a scene?"
"It's not like we actually spent the wedding night together."
The fate of the men who married Estelle was always the same.
They held the wedding, spent the wedding night.
The next morning, the groom was found cold and lifeless.
Cause of death: cardiac arrest.
[Didn't the bride kill him?]
[Exactly. That old man—this was already his third marriage. Sure, he had money, but what else was there to like? It must've been horrifying.]
Naturally, people suspected that Estelle had murdered her husband.
But there were no external injuries, not even traces of poison.
They questioned Estelle again and again, but no evidence ever surfaced to prove she was the killer.
[Miss Estelle, are you absolutely certain you didn't do anything?]
[I was the first one to report his death. If I'd killed him, wouldn't I have been too busy trying to hide it?]
[You could have disposed of the evidence before making the report.]
[Officer, I woke up to find a corpse lying beside me. Even when I close my eyes, I can still see it clearly. Do you think you could even begin to imagine how I feel?]
Estelle's hands were trembling as she spoke.
What had happened the night before was known only to the bride and groom.
But since the bride's statement remained consistent, the suspicion of murder gradually lost traction.
People's prejudice—that someone with such a delicate appearance couldn't possibly kill—ended up reinforcing her innocence.
[He died on the wedding night, so technically, it was the bride who killed him.]
A man-eating seductress.
That was the moment her infamous nickname in high society was born.
Estelle insisted to the end that her husband had died suddenly.
But the truth was—
"A man died. How could I possibly stay sane after that?"
"It's not like you killed him with your own hands. Stop blaming yourself for no reason."
Estelle had killed her husbands.
Three of them, in fact.
And another victim was already fated to follow.
"They were all old men on the verge of death anyway. They lusted after a younger woman, so giving up their fortunes was a form of atonement."
Mathias's eyes, usually as light and careless as his words, now gleamed dark and ominous.
"Who cares about killing one old man, or a hundred?"
"Mathias."
Estelle looked at him coldly.
"Whether I kill one or a hundred, the fact remains—I'm still a murderer."
Even if it had never been a murder she wanted.
Estelle had only ever been given two choices:
Spend a night with an old man and become his wife.
Or kill him and stop the marriage.
Then how had Estelle—who had never even crushed a single insect—managed to kill her husbands without leaving a shred of evidence?
"But to me, you're no different from those old men."
Dark energy squirmed like a black serpent along Estelle's arm.
Mathias's face turned ghostly pale in an instant.
Just brushing against that miasma meant instant death.
But Estelle was different.
"So, would you like to die too?"
Because she could wield that miasma.
***
At that moment, the imperial banquet was in full swing.
The banquet was held in gratitude to Lennox, who had vanquished the monsters that had suddenly appeared in the western region.
Though the guest of honor was nowhere to be seen—not even his shadow.
"What about Mai?"
"She arrived safely at the castle. I've said she'll be entering the family registry, so everyone should treat her with the respect she deserves."
Lennox was speaking in hushed tones with Pippin in the palace gardens.
"So then, His Majesty ultimately rejected the adoption?"
"Yes."
"You did at least try to persuade him, right?"
Pippin's tone dripped with doubt. Lennox felt a bit indignant.
[She's a child immune to miasma.]
[Hmm, but you're still unmarried. I hope you understand my position—exceptions can't be made.]
To the emperor, who had answered firmly, Lennox had—
[She is my child.]
—gone as far as to claim a complete stranger as his own daughter.
[Are you saying you want to adopt your own biological child? Then just marry the child's mother.]
[...]
[I'm not as rigid as I may seem. Even if she's a commoner, I'll bless the union—so go find yourself a bride as soon as possible.]
[The child's mother has long since passed away.]
He had even gone so far as to invent a deceased mother for a child who didn't exist.
But not even that could sway the emperor's resolve.
[Well then, how about healing your loss with a new love? As it happens, I know quite a few suitable matches.]
"...He just kept showing me portraits of noble ladies."
You'd think he was a matchmaker, not the ruler of an empire.
"This is all the princess's fault, isn't it?"
It was a well-known story: the emperor's beloved daughter had fallen hard for Lennox's looks.
And to dissuade the princess, the emperor was doing everything he could to pair Lennox off with another woman.
"What kind of parent would want to send their daughter to Winterren Territory? I completely understand His Majesty's feelings."
Winterren was a domain steeped in miasma, closer to death than to life.
Anyone who married into that place would eventually go mad, no matter how strong-willed.
And Lennox wasn't exactly husband material, either.
"I don't want to marry the princess either."
"Y-Yes, of course. Even if it's not the princess, it's hard to imagine the Duke ever settling down and building a happy family with someone," Pippin replied absentmindedly, his face worn with fatigue.
"Ah, right. As you instructed, I've quietly spread the rumor that you're looking for a wife—for one year only."
"With luck, some poor girl with no money and no prospects might show up."
Yaaawn.
Having finished his report, Pippin let out a jaw-cracking yawn and pulled a bottle of coffee from inside his coat.
He took a habitual sip, then offered the bottle to Lennox as though doing him a great favor.
"Want some?"
"Are you insane?"
"Ah. Right."
Seemed the lack of sleep had dulled his brain.
There was no way Lennox would drink from something someone else had touched with their mouth.
"Slipped my mind."
Lennox's obsessive cleanliness was practically legendary.
There were even rumors of someone being beheaded for merely brushing his collar.
Could a man who wouldn't even touch something another person had used really build a warm, happy home with a wife?
'A man who tries to acquire a wife and child like he's purchasing objects—what "warmth" could possibly come from that?'
Unless a woman appeared who was immune to miasma and willing to put up with that insufferable personality, there was no hope.
'But why would a woman like that ever want to meet the Duke?'
Just surviving a year in Winterren would be a miracle in itself.
"Since we can't file the adoption papers right away anyway, I'll be heading out first."
Pippin left with dark circles still etched under his eyes.
And so Lennox was left alone, waiting for a candidate to step forward as his one-year wife.
Meanwhile—
"Oh my gosh! That's Estelle Bellonsa!"
The banquet hall, still lacking its guest of honor, was suddenly abuzz with excitement.