Chapter 162

 

With a playful furrow of his brow, he asked, “What was it you wanted to tell me?”

 

Caught off guard by the embarrassing proposition, Iona was already flustered. His subsequent question only added to her confusion.

 

Leroy likely posed the unexpected question to gauge her reaction.

 

Maintaining her previous expression with some effort, Iona swallowed slowly and replied, “…I’m not ready for that yet.”

 

“Will I know before the end of the year?”

 

“I’ll do my best.”

 

Although she gave a positive answer, Leroy did not seem satisfied. He withdrew his hand from her, adopting a posture that clearly showed he was yielding.

 

Instead of continuing the awkward conversation, he turned and headed for the bathroom. Iona remained standing where she was, collapsing onto the sofa only after he disappeared behind the door.

 

She lay back, staring at the ceiling and sighed heavily.

 

She had thought that becoming his wife again would smooth the path ahead, but real married life was proving to be fraught with peril.

 

If every day continued like today, she feared her heart wouldn’t be able to withstand it.

 

****

 

“This is the perfect opportunity now that the Imperial House has just connected with the Duke’s family. Among the Emperor’s faction of nobles, I must be the first to secure my position.”

 

Viscount Ida muttered to himself, as if steeling his resolve while looking into the mirror. Over his shoulder, the reflection of the Viscountess sitting by the bed, brushing her hair, could be seen.

 

Despite her husband talking to himself in front of the mirror in the middle of the night, she seemed uninterested, focusing only on untangling her hair.

 

Feeling a bit embarrassed, Viscount Ida glanced at his wife sideways before looking away. She was originally from Bardem and not fluent in the Imperial language.

 

She probably didn’t understand half of what he said.

 

Ida grumbled inwardly, ‘It’s been years since we married, and she still hasn’t made an effort to learn my language.’

 

His wife’s Imperial vocabulary was limited to simple phrases like “Hello,” “Thank you,” and “I see.”

 

The fortunate part was that these phrases were used so frequently that she could say them quite fluently. Because of this, many people didn’t realize her origins from a brief encounter.

 

The Viscountess often chose to listen rather than voice her opinions, and her reticence was seen as ladylike modesty rather than a lack of verbal skill.

 

Consequently, Viscount Ida usually appreciated his wife’s silence, but as with all things in life, there were pros and cons.

 

Despite sharing a bed, their relationship remained awkward. It was only natural for a couple who couldn’t have a proper conversation without a translator.

 

‘Of course, it’s not like our marriage was based on love.’

 

Thinking this, Viscount Ida pretended to search for grey hairs, sweeping his hair back needlessly. Although his wife still paid him no attention, he refrained from talking to himself again to avoid strange looks.

 

He clapped his hands lightly and turned around, reflecting on the recent meeting. ‘Anyway, the meeting went better than expected. The Duke may be a scoundrel, but he’s always been that way. The real target is his wife.’

 

Unlike the Duke, his wife had shown a favorable attitude towards Ida.

 

Viscount Ida couldn’t believe it when he heard that the Duke accepted the Crown Prince’s escort for his wife. But upon seeing her in person, he understood why. She was indeed a beauty worthy of such attention.

 

The Duke’s devotion to his wife was quite evident, considering it was an arranged marriage.

 

If the Duke was truly trying to mend relations with the Imperial family, be it for his wife or any other reason, then Ida knew he had to align himself with that trend.

 

“Renewing our interactions with the Duchy benefits both our territories. That’s why the former Duke considered an alliance with the Count of Schmidt. This opportunity is a feast laid out for me...”

 

“Carmen.”

 

Viscount Ida approached his wife, calling her name softly.

 

Carmen finally looked up at him, her face still youthful without makeup.

 

“Try to befriend the woman we met today. Can you do that?”

 

He spoke slowly and clearly, using simple words. Judging by her reaction to his hand gestures, Carmen seemed to understand and replied politely.

 

“Yes, I will. Esposo.”

 

Her response felt somewhat naive, making Viscount Ida frown.

 

However, he was too tired to summon a maid to translate for them at this hour. After all, his plan was merely to win Iona’s favor through his wife, and while that was necessary, it wasn’t of the utmost importance.

 

Ida trusted in the power of his lands.

 

The Duchy appeared to manage well on internal resources alone, but if the Duke intended to strengthen his power, he would eventually look outward.

 

This was a tug-of-war with a predetermined outcome.

 

‘Good will always come from mutual benefit,’ he thought, patting Carmen’s shoulder encouragingly, with a crooked smile.

 

****

 

The Duke and Duchess’ mornings always began early. Rising at dawn with Leroy, Iona stepped outside with only Marsha to accompany her, intending to stretch before breakfast.

 

She hadn’t urged Leroy to join her on the outing, knowing he might find it unsettling to wander the mansion under new ownership.

 

Thanks to Leroy’s thorough knowledge of the estate, Iona reached the training grounds without needing a guide from the Viscount’s house.

 

“Morning training even here? You are indeed diligent,” remarked Marsha, as they walked.

 

Marsha remarked with a tone suggesting she wasn’t entirely pleased with the fact.

 

At the Count’s estate, since it was her home, Iona didn’t feel the need to drag others along for her morning training. However, now that she was in the heart of potential adversaries, she couldn’t afford to show such vulnerabilities.

 

It would be suspicious for the Duchess to roam alone without any attendants.

 

“You can’t gain anything by staying cooped up inside,” Iona replied, accepting a towel from Marsha.

 

Though Marsha voiced her complaints, she was nonetheless prepared to assist Iona with her training, having brought extra towels and a water bottle.

 

Iona smiled as she glanced at the supplies and stepped forward. With no suitable sparring partner available, she planned to jog lightly around the training ground while waiting for a visitor.

 

Given the region’s commercial development, the estate wasn’t particularly large, but it was still better than the cramped Modrov Count’s manor in the dense capital city.

 

After a long hiatus, Iona relished the feeling of running freely as she moved her legs.

 

The awaited individual appeared just as Iona completed her twentieth lap.

 

Viscount Ida’s young wife stood quietly, waiting without attempting to interrupt Iona’s run. However, a guest couldn’t just pass by the host without a greeting.

 

Iona stopped and walked slowly towards the Viscountess, addressing her with an easy manner.

 

“Good morning, madam. Did my running disturb your sleep?”

 

The Viscountess responded with a smile in her native Bardem tongue. The maid standing behind her promptly translated her words.

 

“I came to your room to invite you for breakfast, but you weren’t there, so I decided to come outside.”

 

“You’re from Bardem,” Iona noted, as if realizing something new, and extended her hand for a handshake.

 

Despite the early hour, the Viscountess was already wearing gloves suitable for going out.

 

Iona’s gaze lingered on them for a moment. During dinner yesterday, the Viscountess had also concealed her hands with delicate lace gloves.

 

Recognizing the subtle elegance and restraint in her demeanor, Iona decided to bridge the gap with friendly intent.

 

“Well, I hope I didn’t inconvenience you too much. I tend to start my mornings early,” Iona said, smiling warmly.

 

The Viscountess, through her maid, replied, “Not at all. It’s actually refreshing to see someone so dedicated. Perhaps we could join you sometime?”

 

Iona appreciated the gesture, understanding the strategic importance of forming alliances even in the smallest of social interactions.

 

“I would be delighted,” Iona replied, maintaining her warm demeanor. “It’s always nice to have company.”

 

As they conversed, Iona felt a cautious optimism. Aligning with the Viscountess could indeed prove beneficial in navigating the complex political landscape they both inhabited.

--- End Of The Chapter ----

 

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