WFMW 32

Chapter 32

Crisis

2024.04.01.

‘She’s different from the Princess. If she dies, no one will grieve, and no one will investigate how she died.’

Even though it had been a long time since Grisha’s mother—the previous duchess—had passed away, Lady Briar still habitually referred to her as “the Princess.”

Just thinking about the time of her death still gave Lady Briar a headache.

Even though the poison had been administered so subtly that no one could easily notice, everyone was convinced it was an assassination and went hunting for the culprit.

And of course, the prime suspect was none other than Lady Briar herself.

She had been interrogated, questioned indirectly, and even after becoming the duchess, people would occasionally bring the subject up again.

That experience had clearly made her more cautious and subdued.

But Nelly Fairway was not the Princess, and unlike back then, there were not many eyes watching her now.

If she were killed because she was a nuisance, there would be no one to torment Lady Briar about it afterward.

Reaching that conclusion, Lady Briar immediately summoned her head maid—her most trusted subordinate.

“We need to send someone to Cedar’s mansion. They must confirm the death of the lady staying there.”

“Her death, milady?”

“Yes.”

The maid’s expression darkened at Lady Briar’s confident tone, as though she were already sure Nelly was dead.

“Wasn’t she said to be in a comatose state from mana exhaustion? The academy even certified that she wasn’t dead.”

“That’s how it always starts—with people falling into a coma and dying soon after! Even ordinary people are like that.”

“That’s true, but still…”

What if they went there and found her alive?

Just as the maid was about to ask that question, Lady Briar answered first, as if she had anticipated it.

“Then she must be killed. She’s nothing but an obstacle in Cedar’s path.”

In other words, Lady Briar was ordering an assassination.

The maid, who had naively thought her mistress only meant to confirm the death, bowed hurriedly.

“I’ll make contact with the guild, at once.”

After a long period of quiet, Lady Briar was once again hatching a sinister scheme.

I had been pretending to sleep out of sheer stubbornness—I didn’t want to talk to Cedar.
But at some point, I must have really fallen asleep.

When I opened my eyes again, it was the middle of the night.

‘Cedar’s… not here.’

Instinctively, I looked beside me. The chair where he had been sitting was empty.

I sighed and ran a hand over my face.

‘Well, it’s only natural he’s not here. If he’d stayed by my side all night, that would’ve been a problem of its own.’

No matter how much I tried to keep emotional distance, when someone nurses you so diligently, your heart can’t help but soften.

Especially for someone like me—I was weak to that kind of care.

I pressed my palm to my forehead. The fever had gone down.

The basin and wet towels that had been beside me were gone too. Cedar must have taken them away once he saw I’d recovered.

For a man who was essentially my husband in name only, he’d gone far beyond what was necessary. He could’ve just left me alone.

‘Honestly… he’s making things difficult.’

I’d complained plenty—about the overly bland food, about the awkwardness of someone hovering while I slept—but truthfully, I hadn’t hated it as much as I claimed.

Thinking back on the strange cohabitation I’d been living with Cedar since waking, I ruffled my hair in frustration.

‘Who is he calling slow-witted? The only clueless one here is him!’

If I got the chance, I was going to give him a good scolding.
He shouldn’t be so kind to everyone.

‘Good thing I’m level-headed enough to see things clearly.
If I were a little more naïve, I might’ve thought Cedar actually liked me.’

But of course, that couldn’t be true.

With that thought firmly settled, I let out a long sigh and got out of bed.

My throat was dry—probably from the fever—and I wanted some water.

I didn’t have to go all the way downstairs. There was a jug and a cup on the table nearby.

There was also a small note beside it, written in Cedar’s neat, almost mechanical handwriting:

“Drink if you’re thirsty.”

I glared at the note, then picked up the jug.

There was a faint mint scent in the lukewarm water—refreshing, soothing on an empty stomach.

So unnecessarily thoughtful.

‘I must’ve really been shutting myself off from the world too much.’

All I knew about Cedar Granite were the public facts.

The eldest son of the Granite Duchy.
The youngest Swordmaster in history.
The commander of the Azure Dragon Knights.

I didn’t know anything about his personality or his habits—nothing personal at all.

I had just made assumptions. That he’d be curt because he was a knight. Arrogant because he was the heir to a duchy.

But the real Cedar was different—meticulous, considerate, and strangely fond of taking care of others.

He didn’t speak much, but when he did start lecturing, it was like he’d been saving up every word until he couldn’t hold them back anymore.

‘But his mother… she was terrifying.’

I shuddered, remembering the beautiful woman in high heels kicking open the grand front doors without hesitation.

Naturally, that brought back memories of their argument.

‘They were fighting about the ducal title, weren’t they? They didn’t seem to get along at all.’

When the duchess had come to scold him so furiously, it almost seemed like Cedar might not inherit the title after all.

That part, I couldn’t wrap my head around.

‘But he’s a Swordmaster! Isn’t it obvious he should be the next duke?
Even if he weren’t, the emperor would surely grant him a title of his own…’

Even a commoner who becomes a Swordmaster receives at least the rank of count.

And Cedar was already the duke’s son.

That was similar to my own situation.

The emperor had once offered me a title, too—so the empire could officially bind me, the Archmage, to its service. I had politely declined.

‘A Swordmaster, unlike a mage, should accept a title. It suits his role.
And no title fits Cedar better than Duke Granite himself.’

The Empire’s Sword.
Wasn’t that a perfect name for him?

If he could be so considerate to a mere contract wife, he must be a compassionate, reliable leader to his knights.

He would never back down when it came to protecting someone weaker.

‘Still, no matter how fitting the position, if he doesn’t want it, that’s that.’

As I imagined the dignified Duke Cedar Granite, I shook my head with a smile.

I could understand his mother’s frustration—but if Cedar didn’t want the title, I’d take his side.

‘Not that my opinion would mean much to him.’

He’d probably just snort in disbelief.

‘And now I’ve woken up at such an awkward hour.’

After drinking, I didn’t feel like going back to bed.

So I stood and stretched, twisting my body side to side.

It wasn’t much of an exercise, but when I bent my back, there was a sharp crack followed by a sting that made me wince.

I braced myself against the wall, waiting for the pain to subside.

Then, suddenly, tears welled up.

“This is ridiculous. I can’t believe I’m this sore from using such a simple spell.”

Earlier today, I had melted a lock with magic.
Before I lost my mana, I could’ve done that a hundred times a day without tiring.

“I guess you really don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone.”

I had known, in theory, that my mana was depleted.
But I hadn’t truly felt the loss until now—until I realized that even a trivial spell was a struggle.

It hit me harder than I expected.

‘Still, I survived. That’s… something, right?’

But was it really something to be glad about?

Maybe it was the late hour, but a heavy sadness pressed down on me.
Tears fell onto my hand; I wiped them away without care.

Then—something felt off.

A faint disturbance, like the end of a spiderweb trembling in the wind, brushed my senses.

I froze.

‘Someone just stepped on my magic circle.’

Cedar?

No—it couldn’t be. The only people in this house right now were Cedar and me.

And Cedar had a distinctive, heavy-footed way of walking.
Whenever he moved around upstairs, I never sensed my wards being disturbed.

He was always careful about things like that.

‘Then it’s someone else. An intruder!’

I have to run!

But even as that thought flashed through my mind, I realized—I had nowhere to run.

Panicking, I crouched into the narrow space beside the dresser, in the shadows.

The moment I tucked myself into that cramped corner, my door creaked open.

Two figures, dressed entirely in black, slipped silently into the room.

Their footsteps made no sound at all—they moved like phantoms gliding through the dark.

I wouldn’t have known they were human if not for the low murmurs that followed, right beside my bed.

“The bed’s empty.”

“It’s still warm. She was here just moments ago.”

“Then she ran off to hide from us?”

Drawing that conclusion, the assassins began scanning the room.

Gasp.

I nearly screamed but bit down on my lip hard enough to taste blood.

My heart was pounding so violently it hurt.

‘They just need to leave. Please, just leave.’

They’d realized I’d been here and left—so maybe they’d go search elsewhere.
Then I could move.

‘But… where can I even go?’

It was the first time anyone had come to kill me, and my mind was blank with terror.

All I could do was hold my breath, forcing myself not to make a sound.

Fortunately, the two didn’t notice the shadow I was hiding in and began to move toward the hallway.

Their hushed voices carried clearly through the dark.

“You don’t think the young lord of Granite sensed us and moved her somewhere, do you?”