WFMW 28

Chapter 28

Lady Briar’s Visit

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March 28, 2024

I instinctively darted behind the largest nearby tree.

Then, peeking just enough to avoid being seen, I carefully looked at the visitor who had arrived.

“No one should be coming here.”

Since I’d woken up, no one had ever come to this mansion.

Cedar seemed more determined than I was to maintain the illusion that I was still in a coma. Unless I were truly sick, he would never call for an outsider.

“Then who is it?”

Maybe it was just a passing carriage? Or perhaps they’d come to the wrong house.

But contrary to my guess, the carriage stopped precisely in front of the main gate.

The mansion had a small garden, and the gate wasn’t far from the front door, so I could clearly see the carriage that had stopped there.

When I spotted the crest shaped like a roaring dragon, my brow furrowed.

“The House of Granit?”

That was unmistakably the seal of Duke Granit’s household — Cedar’s family.

“Did they come to deliver Cedar’s belongings? Then maybe I should go greet them.”

Cedar was the eldest son of Duke Granit — the next in line to inherit the title.

Even if he lived in a small mansion like this, it was natural that someone from the main house would look after him.

In truth, it was strange that Cedar was doing all the cleaning and cooking himself.

“But who exactly is he allowed to tell about my awakening?”

Surely, telling his family wouldn’t be a problem?

Yet, last time, Cedar even seemed displeased that his aide, Jacques, had been informed that I’d regained consciousness.

While I was mulling it over, the coachman climbed down and rattled the front gate.

The metallic clatter made me flinch instinctively.

Thankfully, Haile must have locked up properly before leaving — the gate didn’t budge. I exhaled in relief.

The servant turned back to the carriage and said,
“Madam, the gate is locked.”

“Madam?”

Who in the Duke of Granit’s family would be addressed that way?

As I wondered, the carriage door opened, and a woman slowly descended, holding onto the servant’s hand. My eyes widened.

“Wow… she’s beautiful.”

She was an elegant noblewoman with hair that shimmered like clear silver water and skin pale as snow.

Usually, married women tied up their hair, but hers fell freely down her back — it made it hard to guess her age.

Her lips were full, and her eyelashes so long that if it rained, water might pool on them.

Her sky-blue dress exposed her shoulders, accentuating her voluptuous figure; the fabric rippled like waves, making her look like a mermaid who’d come ashore.

“So this is what they mean by ‘pure beauty.’”

She was breathtaking — even my indifferent eyes couldn’t look away.

But then this dreamlike woman walked gracefully to the gate and—

“Then break it down! It’s not like this gate’s been locked just for a day or two!”

Bang!

She kicked the gate with her high heels, making it rattle loudly. I jumped and ducked back behind the tree, heart pounding.

“Yikes, she’s fierce.”

How could she kick like that in such tall heels? Didn’t she worry about breaking her ankle?

Apparently not satisfied, she kicked the gate again and again with sharp clang! sounds.

If she saw me, I had the horrible feeling I’d be next to get kicked.

So I huddled tighter behind the tree, gripping my clothes as if I could make myself invisible.

Then I remembered what Cedar had said when we’d set our rules for living together:

“If someone ever visits, hide — behind the curtain if you must. They’re never the sort of person you’d want to meet.”

“Right. He did say that.”

But there weren’t any curtains around here… though I supposed hiding behind a tree was close enough.

Clank! Clank!

“Eek!”

The banging didn’t stop — but now the sound had changed. It was duller, heavier — not the sharp thuds of her kicks.

The woman’s shrill voice followed:
“Hurry up and break it! Can’t you even do that properly?”

Cedar really did attract terrifying visitors.

Just as I was thinking that, the sound changed again.

Scrreeech!

It was sharper, metallic.

Unable to resist, I peeked out — and saw the servant poking a long iron rod into the lock.

He looked just like a common thief. My mouth fell open.

“Wait — why are they trying to open someone else’s gate so boldly? And what do they plan to do once they get in?”

A normal person would knock, not pick a lock. So clearly, these weren’t friendly guests.

People who broke in like that weren’t here to do Cedar any favors.

“That won’t do.”

While our contract marriage lasted, this house was mine, too.

It was also the place I was supposed to hide until my ancestor Ferryway’s inheritance was safely passed down to me.

“My house means I have a duty to protect it.”

Luckily, I’d recovered enough magical energy to cast a minor spell or two.

I pointed toward the lock and whispered,
“Melt away.”

It was such a small spell — one that normally would’ve meant nothing — but now it drained me instantly.

I felt my magic slide out of my body, dizziness washing over me as I braced myself on the ground.

The scream that followed from the other side of the gate told me the spell had worked.

“Ahh! Hot! It’s hot!”

The servant who’d been picking the lock cried out, clutching his burned hand.

“Oh no! I didn’t think about him…”

Had he been badly hurt? I peeked anxiously.

But instead of showing concern, the woman snapped at the servant and even kicked him.

“Can’t even handle a simple lock? You all deserve punishment for your incompetence!”

While she berated him, the coachman crept closer to the gate and shouted in alarm,
“Madam! The lock… it’s strange. It looks like it’s been melted shut from the inside! There’s no keyhole left at all!”

“What?”

The woman scowled and inspected the lock herself. Of course there was no hole — I’d sealed it completely.

But since she’d seen the servant poking at it earlier, it was natural she’d find it suspicious.

After fiddling with the gate for a bit, she tossed her hair back and muttered through clenched teeth,

“Ha! Cedar Granit, that insane man. Hiding his wife like this?”

Her words struck my ears like an arrow.

“Wife?”

Up until then, I’d assumed she’d come to see Cedar. But she’d said it clearly — his wife.

Which meant me.

“She came to see me? Why?”

Realizing that, goosebumps rippled across my skin, and my dizziness worsened.

“Could Diana have sent her?”

Even if not to kill me, maybe to confirm whether I was awake — to incite someone else to check.

She was absolutely the type to do that.

If I’d been calmer, I might have realized this had nothing to do with Diana. But my nerves were so frayed that my thoughts narrowed.

“What should I do? Should I open the gate and pretend to faint, or just keep it locked? But if I don’t let her in now, she might climb over the wall next time…”

If that happened, I’d never notice in time — I was too slow for that.

“Ugh, I feel sick.”

My stomach churned, and my head buzzed. I bit my lip, frozen in indecision—

When suddenly, a deep, familiar voice echoed through the air.

“What are you doing here?”

Cedar had returned.

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Grisha would never forget the first time he met Nelly.

“Hi there, pretty one.”

Nelly Ferryway had been… peculiar.

Dark shadows always lingered beneath her eyes — maybe from sleepless nights — and her wrists were so thin they looked like they belonged to a child.

Her golden hair, though a beautiful color, was tangled and neglected, like a broom.

She wore an oversized gown draped around her shoulders like a cloak, and when she waved her arms, the sleeves fluttered limply.

Grisha frowned.
“‘Pretty one?’”

“Because you’re pretty.”

“…”

The Granit Dukedom was a proud family of warriors.

In that house, calling a man “pretty” was often a veiled insult.

But Nelly had said it without a hint of mockery. There wasn’t a trace of malice in her tone.

“What a strange woman.”

Even mages who usually cared little for worldly affairs knew of the Granit family — and of the duke’s second son who had entered the Academy after losing the succession struggle.

“My name’s Grisha,” he introduced.

“Grisha? What a lovely name. I’m Nelly Ferryway.”

“…”

Even after he told her, her reaction was the same — unbothered, unpretentious.

It was as if all the weight of his family’s circumstances hadn’t even reached her ears — or perhaps she’d simply forgotten already.

Unconcerned, Nelly went on,
“Call me senior. Or maybe ‘sister’ sounds more natural for someone your age? Anyway, come to me whenever you’re having a hard time.”

“Having a hard time?”

“When you’re lonely enough to cry, or when you miss home. I can at least stay by your side.”

She looked tired — small and frail — but she was kind.

Nelly Ferryway was the first person who had ever offered Grisha companionship without wanting anything in return.

“Gladly, Sister.”

Without hesitation, Grisha took her hand.