WGMFTR | Chapter 7

Episode 7

“I want to give Lydia the Marchioness title as soon as possible.”

Lydia felt goosebumps every time the Marquis casually uttered such cringeworthy words.

Considering the cold, sharp tone he used in the carriage, she couldn’t help but wonder how he managed to feign such warmth so skillfully.

“Master, no matter what, rushing into marriage like this won’t do. If anything seems even slightly lacking, Miss Lydia will be disappointed.”

“I’m fi—”

“Just hire more people, gather more things, or spend more money. The wedding must be as grand as possible, no matter what.”

Lydia almost blurted out that he should donate all the gold coins that would be scattered on the ground instead.

But she held her tongue for the time being, deterred by the Marquis’s gaze looking down at her slightly askew.

She realized it was all to avoid arousing suspicion. That was the true nature of this play she had gotten dragged into.

Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she had become part of something much larger and more elaborate than expected.

“I want this marriage to be something that no one dares to question.”

His gaze was so affectionate that it could easily be mistaken for genuine as he gently cupped her cheek and spoke in a low voice.

Of course, all Lydia wished for was for this moment to pass quickly.

“…You know I don’t care about those kinds of things.”

Seeing through her clenched teeth, a faint, more sincere smile flashed across Marquis Esteban’s face.

It was as if he had heard her silent scream of discomfort.

“Have Lydia’s belongings taken to the guest room, and then leave us. I’ll give her a tour of the mansion myself.”

It was a welcome suggestion.

The butler, as if his own grandchild were getting married, gave instructions to the surrounding servants while still unable to hide his satisfaction, and then left the room.

Lydia let out a big sigh the moment he was out of sight.

“Do we really have to go this far?”

“If I’m going to suddenly marry a commoner, then writing a legendary love story is the best approach.”

Ilian put his hands behind his back and paused for a moment before adding with a sneer.

“It also makes it easier to perfectly get rid of an annoying fly.”

“…A fly?”

“Why? You mentioned it earlier. The youngest, foolish princess of the royal family.”

Lydia was dumbfounded by Ilian’s attitude as he referred to a princess of the realm as a “fly” with clear signs of annoyance.

“Can you really speak that way about a princess?”

“Ah, actually, the term ‘leech’ might be more appropriate.”

The tone was cheerful, but the content of his words was outrageous. Yet Ilian stood there with an expression that suggested he saw nothing wrong.

“…Honestly, part of the reason you’re marrying me is because you don’t want to marry that princess, right? You’re using me because the opportunity happened to work out, right?”

Ilian tilted his head forward and responded calmly, as if explaining something obvious.

“Given how things have turned out, it’s not bad to take care of both matters at once.”

She already felt like she’d stepped into something far more complicated than she had expected. Perhaps her inner turmoil showed on her face, because Ilian added:

“That’s why I kept asking what your demands are. Whatever I can grant in Esteban’s name, demand it all.”

“Then as a sign of trust, give me the ring first.”

Lydia made her demand even before he finished speaking, and of course, it was immediately rejected.

“That’s not possible.”

“You said I could demand anything under Esteban’s name. I swear I won’t run away with it.”

“How could I trust that?”

“I have a conscience. I wouldn’t just ignore someone suffering under a curse.”

And she had no intention of spending her life on the run while being hated by a family like the House of Esteban.

“Logically, I wouldn’t. We’re even signing a contract—if I run, I’d be breaching it.”

Even if she found the ring, what good would it do? She couldn’t return it to the antique shop, and she’d have to spend her life avoiding this persistent Marquis.

“The world is wide, and there are many loopholes.”

“I wonder what kind of world you’re living in.”

“I guarantee it’s worse than it looks.”

Ilian couldn’t help but give a bitter smile, sympathizing somewhat with Lydia’s honest grumbling.

The world he lived in was one where trust was built not on human decency, but on tightly woven knots that ensnared people from every angle.

Lydia, who had been fired up about retrieving the ring, sighed and relaxed her arms, giving up just as quickly.

“…Even if it’s temporary, I’m worried. I can read and write, but if I think about it, I don’t know anything about noble etiquette.”

Ilian observed Lydia’s emotional shift closely before answering slowly.

“Don’t worry. I’ll assign someone to teach you. And anyone who dares to lecture you about manners—just ignore them. If they want to fall out of my favor, let them.”

Even a king wouldn’t speak with such confidence. But strangely, it gave her a bit of reassurance.

At least he was doing what he said he would. Although his pushy methods left a lot to be desired.

“The more I act like I’ll do anything for you and spend Esteban’s money recklessly, the better our deception will work. So take it easy.”

“It’s not easy at all. I didn’t come here to waste money.”

Right before the Marquis arrived at her shop, she had been seriously worrying about how to save every penny—she couldn’t let this slide without comment.

“Then let’s call it an investment made out of necessity.”

Same thing, really.

But in the end, if he wanted to waste his own money, there was nothing Lydia could do to stop him. She didn’t plan to interfere with how others spent their wealth.

She still hadn’t fully grasped just how massive the Esteban family’s fortune was.

Lydia was beginning to slightly regret not pushing back more firmly and brushing aside the vague term “grand” attached to this “wedding.”

It was the morning after Lydia had been brought in.

Ilian Esteban was currently leaning against the wall, arms crossed, watching Lydia from afar as she sat in the middle of a room piled with books.

“…She’s really strange.”

His light mutter scattered meaninglessly.

Lydia had her head buried in a book so old it looked like the pages would fall apart any second. She didn’t even notice his presence.

The number of books delivered by his order was so absurdly high that one had to wonder how they all even fit into the attic where she used to live.

<She’s been in that room all morning. She even asked not to be disturbed. It seemed like something important, so we didn’t dare interrupt. But if Master…>

<I’ll go check myself.>

Ilian had just returned from the palace after notifying the King of the marriage.

To be precise, it was more like he had cut off the King’s attempt to bring up marriage with the princess again after the morning meeting.

<You’re getting married? You, Marquis? To whom?>

<A commoner.>He had left the conference room with only that one sentence, and it was easy to imagine the chaos that must have followed.

But when Ilian made a firm decision, not even the King could interfere.

Every noble house in the kingdom was one of two kinds: those who owed Esteban a debt, or those who would.

The royal family was no exception. If they didn’t want to tighten their belts due to a rapidly depleting treasury, they had better not protest.

“You seem quite busy.”

Ilian spoke to Lydia, who hadn’t even had lunch and hadn’t moved. He stepped around a particularly high pile of books to approach her.

“Marquis? You’re back already?”

“Am I not welcome? Should I leave again?”

Of course, he didn’t mean it.

He was already tempted to take off his gloves and hold Lydia’s hand, as if just touching her would erase his lingering pain.