The Contract Wife Tries to Leave - Chapter 109
The role of “wife” had a clear expiration date. Leonid was fully aware of that, yet he found himself thinking he was perhaps paying too much attention to it. Still, it didn’t hurt to aim for perfection in everything.
There was always the possibility that Johanna wouldn’t conceive within the year or that the child might turn out to be an Omega instead of a dominant Alpha. In such a case, they’d have to extend the contract. The payment, however, would still need to be made within the year.
‘That way, the connection to Ilian Rediess, that bastard, would finally be severed.’
He could easily pay off the debt for her immediately. But he hadn’t—because he still didn’t trust her. If the debt were cleared, she might just take her brother and vanish into the night.
His temples throbbed with a headache brought on by the suppressants. Letting out an irritated sigh, Leonid leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes.
He wished he could sleep soundly, but during this time, insomnia plagued him, draining him completely.
The engagement party of Count Meyer was grand enough, but it wasn’t overly extravagant or ostentatious. The more historically noble families often preferred to maintain dignity over excess. Middle-class guests and up-and-coming nobles attending such events for the first time seemed somewhat surprised by the understated nature of it all.
After offering congratulations to the count and his fiancée and presenting his gift, Leonid quickly grew tired. Not physically, but mentally.
Despite being married, the covetous and envious gazes aimed at him hadn’t lessened. While no Omega was outright brazen enough to approach an Alpha at someone else’s engagement, there were still plenty of subtle attempts to get close to him or win his favor. It was ridiculous. If he were a Beta instead of a hyper-dominant Alpha, these same people wouldn’t even spare him a glance.
A familiar wave of cynicism washed over him. Leonid made an excuse about wanting to take a look around the garden and slipped away from the crowd. Jansen followed him like a shadow, as usual. His quiet, nearly ghost-like presence didn’t grate on Leonid’s already frayed nerves, a quality he appreciated in his aide.
As Leonid walked, trying to clear his mind, he suddenly caught a familiar scent that made him pause. He silently sniffed the air, and to his surprise, the scent was strikingly similar to Johanna’s pheromones.
‘What is this? Where’s that scent coming from?’
His curiosity piqued, Leonid followed the direction of the fragrance, his steps quickening slightly. He eventually found himself standing in front of an evergreen tree, clusters of reddish-orange flowers blooming on its branches.
“Osmanthus fragrans,” Jansen said from a few steps behind him. Leonid recognized it too—he had just forgotten until now. The scent of osmanthus flowers was incredibly similar to Johanna’s pheromones.
A sweet, dreamlike fragrance.
Soft and fleeting.
“They usually bloom around September, but apparently, this particular tree blooms earlier. I overheard some guests talking about how many people come here just to see it.”
Sure enough, even as Jansen finished speaking, Leonid noticed other guests approaching from a distance. Irritated, he furrowed his brow, feeling a pang of disappointment. A sudden thought crossed his mind—he wanted to show this tree to Johanna.
But there wasn’t time for that. The effects of the suppressants were starting to wear off, and the signs of his approaching rut were becoming more pronounced. It seemed like it would come sooner than expected this time. The symptoms were already more intense than usual.
“Marquis.”
The quiet voice of Jansen broke the silence in the carriage. Leonid, who had been sitting with his eyes closed, trying to compose himself, glanced at him with patience. Jansen was not one to speak unnecessarily, so Leonid waited, albeit with some restraint, for what he had to say.
Jansen awkwardly chuckled as he pulled something from the inner pocket of his coat. To Leonid’s surprise, it was a small branch of osmanthus, covered with clusters of orange flowers.
Leonid stared at him for a moment, then spoke.
“…That’s theft.”
“I picked it up. It was on the ground,” Jansen replied shamelessly. It was obvious from the freshness of the flowers that they had been plucked only moments ago, not found discarded.
Leonid, though exasperated, accepted the osmanthus branch. The vibrant, dewy flowers were still fresh, and he thought it would be a perfect way to show Johanna the scent that reminded him so much of her.
As soon as they returned to the Weimar estate, Leonid’s first command to Annette, the head housekeeper, was to have osmanthus trees planted in the garden.
Annette, though clearly surprised by the unusual request, accepted the order with the professionalism expected of a seasoned housekeeper. Regardless of what her employer had in mind, it was her job to follow orders without question.
With the osmanthus branch in hand, Leonid made his way to Johanna’s room. The fever was rising again, and he could feel his body growing hotter. He entered her room, immediately loosening his cravat and tossing aside his jacket.
