WFMW 31

Chapter 31

What Am I Doing

2024.03.31.

I pouted my lips and answered.

“Why would I hit you? I was honestly just telling you to go because you’ve been busy.”

Sider stared hard at my face for a moment, then lowered his eyes and sighed as if the ground had opened beneath him.

“…Ugh.”

I only tried to be considerate of him—so why did I get such a long, long sigh in return?

Feeling wronged, I puffed my cheeks out even more. Of course, my protest had no effect on Sider.

“I’m mad, so don’t try to look cute.”
“Cu—”

Never in my life did I imagine someone would tell me I was puffing my cheeks to look cute.

It was so absurd that my anger evaporated into nothing.

Sider’s long stride brought him to my room in an instant. Before I could even slip into my slippers he spoke like someone taking care of a child.

“Hands up, Manse.”
“Manse.”

I raised my hands and “Manse” as instructed, and in a flash the dress I’d been wearing slipped up and off.

I was left in an under-dress that looked like nightwear, but there was no time to be embarrassed — I was wrapped up like a cocoon in a blanket and laid down on the bed.

‘The touch of a skilled caretaker!’

This was the kind of moment that let me peek at how he’d looked after me while I’d been delirious with fever.

After laying me down, Sider asked carefully about little things.

“Is your throat sore? Want me to brush your teeth?”
“I’m okay.”
“Looks like the fever’s just starting. I’ll get a wet towel.”

Almost as soon as he said it, he returned to the room carrying a large basin full of wet towels.

‘Fast.’

Just as he’d said, I began to feel warmth welling up through my whole body.

The blanket on me felt uncomfortable so I fidgeted, and then the question I really wanted to avoid came.

“Did you eat?”
“I did.”
“What did you eat, how much?”
“Whatever they laid out for me.”

He spoke firmly.

“Be precise.”

There was nowhere to hide. I shut my eyes tight and answered.

“…Thirty grams of flatbread, thirty grams of plain vegetables with no dressing, and half a bowl of tomato-seasoned vegetable soup.”
“What kind of meal is that! That’s a snack!”

I was sufficiently full though. As always, Sider—so picky about my meals—snapped angrily.

‘Sorry, Hail.’

Hail had really taken care to feed me properly; seeing Sider flare up made me worry the blame might fall on Hail, so I closed my eyes and offered a quiet apology in my head.

After lecturing me on the importance of proper meals, Sider bowed his head deeply.

“Sorry. That’s not something I should be angry about. You should be the one to be mad.”
“Why should I be?” I blinked. At my reply, Sider’s steel-gray eyes with their bluish tint frowned.

He answered in a tone that carried guilt.

“I was taking care of you and I failed.”
What did he mean by that? I’m not a child; why would he have to watch over me so closely?

‘Just taking care of me like this is enough, really.’

Trying to ease his feelings, I gave a small laugh and shook my head.

“You don’t even have an obligation to take care of me.”

But instead of lightening his mood, I must have said something wrong. He clenched his hand like he was about to burst and then flopped the wet towel he’d been holding onto my forehead.

“Oof! Cold.”

He’d wrung it out so well that no water streamed down; nothing like some disaster. Suddenly the white cloth obscured my view and I couldn’t see his face.

Sider’s voice near my ear sounded brusque.

“Just be quiet. If you’re talking nonsense it’s from the fever.”

Again, again—this was the same situation as earlier when I’d thrown myself at him.

I puckered my lips like a goldfish and answered in a small voice.

“It’s a pity you dismiss my consideration for you as nonsense.”
“What part of that is consideration?”
“It was consideration. I meant it as consideration.”

I was reminding him: we’re only bound by contract, so you don’t have to worry about me this much. I was trying to keep him from overstepping and suffering needlessly.

‘And I might get the wrong idea.’

He only needed a wife who would bear children and secure the line; I only needed him until I received my inheritance and could avoid Diana’s glare. Once both our goals were reached we’d part—if he got too used to being near me, that could be a problem.

‘Still, it’s nice someone is at my side when I’m sick.’

Even as I told myself not to get used to his warmth, a corner of my heart was already soothed by his kindness.

‘Since becoming the great mage, no one has cared for me like this.’

Not wanting to show that soft side of myself, I forced a smile that turned up the corners of my mouth and said,

“Oh— I must have been dizzy. Lying here makes me realize it.”

I was too embarrassed to say thank you directly, but I had to say something—so I said that instead. I thought Sider would understand without me having to bluntly say thanks.

But his reply surprised me; it was heavy.

“Yeah. I’m a bad man.”

What was with him being like this? That kind of answer is hard to come back from.

“…Why does it always go to that? Are you into self-abuse?”
“Insult me. Insult me more.”
“If you’re trying to be funny, it’s not funny at all.”
“I’m not trying to be funny.”

A large hand cast a shadow over my face and then swapped out the towel. His fingers brushed my cheek as he did it.

His hands were hard and rough, and yet, oddly, the sensation of them brushing my face felt good.

“Husband, instead of a towel could you press your palm instead? I think your palm would be better.”
“Don’t talk nonsense and sleep.”

It wasn’t nonsense.

I pouted my lips. When I shut mine, a hush settled between us.

I couldn’t sleep, and the silence was heavy—so I finally spoke first.

Given the situation, the topic that came naturally to mind was Sider’s mother.

“You don’t seem to get along with your mother.”
“You saw for yourself. She’s worse than a stranger.”

He said that and fell quiet.

Was he simply unwilling to talk about his mother? Or did he have so much to say he was unsure where to start?

I couldn’t see his expression because of the towel, but something made me feel it was the latter.

‘It’s hard to hate a family member sincerely.’

Even with what Diana had done to me, if someone asked whether I truly hated her, I couldn’t readily nod. Blood ties are that strong.

‘Sider’s mother was a terrifying beauty. Her personality was frightening too.’

I wondered what had happened in his childhood. Wanting to learn more about him, I urged him a little impatiently.

“If you wanted to talk but had no one to listen, tell me now. I’ll listen.”
At my words, Sider snorted a beat late and muttered,

“A contract marriage, and all that.”

This man—warm and kind but somehow insufferable the moment he opens his mouth.

I’d mustered the courage to ask him to open up, and his reply irritated me, so I muttered back.

“Even if it’s a contract marriage, weren’t we friends first?”
“Friends?”

Sider’s silence lengthened this time.

Maybe I’d struck a nerve; he answered a bit more slowly and with a firmer tone than before.

“I’m not that kind of person with you.”
“Tch—do as you like then.”

Does he think anyone can be his friend? Friendship is not something given freely—no academy would recommend someone for that seat. Hmph.

Pouting, I squeezed my eyes shut and pretended to sleep.

Still I couldn’t doze off; being awake felt uncomfortable, so I tried hard to act asleep. How long had it been like that?

A long sigh spilled into my ear.

“…What am I doing?”

Sider’s mutter sounded strangely, half buoyant and half filled with self-loathing—an ambiguous tone.

After leaving Sider at a distance, Lady Briar returned to the mansion and bolted up to her room.

She threw off her shoes and jewelry in a fit, then chewed on her nails.

All she could think about was Sider’s house, with its lock fused shut.

“He’s definitely dead. There’s no reason to lock the door like that unless he’s dead.”

If he were alive, someone would at least have set the lock so that they could check on his body now and then. That lock was set to make sure absolutely no one could get in.

‘What a brazen fellow. He’s certainly faking his death.’

Sider Grenit had been a good son only long enough to make his insignificant mother into a duchess by becoming a Swordmaster. Since coming of age, the son hardly ever listened to her.

‘Who even knows who he’s trying to hand the dukedom to now! Obviously it’s better for him if he becomes duke, not me!’

A foolish child who doesn’t understand a parent’s heart. Frustrated, Lady Briar clutched her chest.

‘I can’t sit around like this. If he’s dead I have to act fast.’

What Sider needed most right now was a healthy wife who could bear him children. That cunning fellow had taken a woman in a difficult-to-find condition just so he could avoid her meddling, but—

‘If he’s dead, there’s no more reason to hesitate. Or…’

If he’s not dead, then just kill him, right?

‘Oh my, why didn’t I think of this before.’

Remove anyone who gets in the way by killing them.

She thought the woman’s life was already one that no one would be surprised about even if she were dead—so it wouldn’t cause trouble to actually kill her.