Come and Cry at My Funeral - Chapter 180
She had won them over with ribbons and jewels, yet even so, only one maid remained by her side, loyal through these rough paths.
These two—Thea and Sir Dike—were the only allies Freesia had gained as ‘Duchess Arcturus’.
‘Still, compared to my past life, this alone is already an accomplishment.’
Now, Freesia desired nothing more.
As her lady pondered in silence, Thea chattered on, bringing in snacks and a drink.
“…And! Actually, I already told him, Madam!”
“Hm? Told him what?”
“Oh my! About the one who tampered with your drink during the hunting festival!”
Thea lowered her voice, covering her mouth with her hand.
“It turns out Sir Károli was behind it all.”
“Aha. That makes sense…”
“Oh? Aren’t you surprised?”
“Given how he marches around now, it’s hardly surprising.”
It explained why Charles no longer hovered around Izar and walked far behind, as if in disgrace.
‘With his wrist wrapped in bandages, too.’
At first, she thought he’d been injured by a monster, but his unusually grim expression was peculiar. Thea looked almost betrayed, feigning shock.
“Can you believe it? A knight who claims to know honor would stoop so low!”
“……”
Freesia only offered a bitter smile. Back then, she hadn’t even been worthy of ‘a knight’s honor’… not when she was the mother of a Duke’s son.
Thea, sensing her mistress’s restrained response, grew even more animated.
“They say His Grace was furious, Madam. Apparently, he cut Sir Károli’s wrist clean off, as if punishing a common thief! Ugh! Everyone’s saying he’ll surely be executed when we return.”
“Hm…”
“Fortunate for you, right? Now no one will dare mistreat you, not even the Elder Madam!”
Thea prattled on, pleased at her newfound good fortune, while Freesia pondered.
‘Now, how can I make use of this…’
Her plans had already taken several unexpected turns. At least with this new development, she could clearly see her next step.
“I’ll have to tell him that the punishment for Sir Károli should end here.”
“What? But, Madam! He tried to poison you! If you had been with child at the time…”
Freesia almost placed a hand over her lower abdomen, but managed to stop herself just in time.
“He is the Duke’s right-hand man. If we go any further, we’ll only gain more people who resent me.”
“I don’t think that’s likely anymore…”
Watching Thea shake her head, murmuring about how too much mercy could be a bad thing, Freesia allowed herself a small smile.
‘The one who doesn’t understand is Thea herself.’
Keeping Sir Károli alive would ensure him to be a sacrificial pawn, for both Thea and Sir Dike.
* * *
On the journey back to the capital, Izar personally brought Freesia her meals.
‘I can see why the Duke himself would take on such a task.’
He clearly wanted a chance to talk with her.
But each time, Freesia turned away and refused to engage. Once, she would have foolishly been flattered, but now she didn’t show him the slightest bit of attention, as if he were no more than a passing wild animal.
This treatment was nothing compared to how he’d disregarded her in the past.
Still, she secretly watched him through the carriage window, assessing his condition.
‘He’s lost a bit of weight.’
His nose and jawline looked sharper, somehow. His lips, pressed into a firm line, revealed his pride, but there was an undeniable weariness in him.
His golden eyes, once brilliant, were now dull, like dying stars. Despite this, he still looked strong, clad in black armor, exuding an intimidating presence, almost like the god of death himself.
Though… she caught a glimpse of something dark on his neck, above the collar of his shirt.
‘Is that a burn mark?’
The scar left by the dragon Canopus summoned, proof that even he could be wounded.
But she felt no sympathy.
‘Whatever physical pain he suffered, he must have healed well enough, surrounded by so many willing to serve him.’
He was the young, respected head of a powerful household and had become even more celebrated for his feats during the hunting festival, with admirers surely flocking to him. Both he and his household were now free.
‘All thanks to the future I shared with him.’
She felt her cool expression crack as she thought about it, but bit down hard enough to taste blood, holding herself together with the memory of losing her will to live after the joy of carrying their child.
The memory, though it tore her heart apart, was invaluable for her plans.
‘People fall into greater despair when they tumble down from the peak of happiness.’
So, she would soon start playing the role of a wife who ‘forgives her husband’s betrayal and loves him once more’, to avoid any unnecessary suspicion about the child now in her belly.
