MHR 05

Chapter 5

“Last night, I must have gone mad, daring to hand you the divorce papers. You were right—I just wanted your attention. But I knew that doing it that way would only earn your hatred, so I waited for morning. I wanted to apologize to you.”

I completely set aside my pride and begged for his forgiveness like a brainless woman.

“So that’s why you came here?”

“I wanted to feed you something delicious and be forgiven.”

I smiled sweetly as I presented a lunchbox filled with spoiled food that I had been carrying around all day while searching for Damon.

But when the lid was opened, it wasn’t just spoiled—it reeked of rot.

“Put it away.”

“Just one bite.”

I pressed it close to Damon’s nose with a pitiful expression.

“If you eat, then I’ll eat too. Or maybe I should feed it to you myself?”

“…I get car sick in the carriage, and my stomach isn’t well. And I’ve already had my lifetime’s share of fright from that wolf pack. Ugh!”

In the end, I closed the lid and covered my mouth, feeling nauseous.

Damon glared at me with clear disapproval before finally speaking.

“You saved Crown Prince Valentine, so I won’t say anything more. Return to the mansion now.”

“At this hour? I’m scared.”

Truthfully, being with Damon was even more terrifying.

He probably realized I was trying some strange trick. But I had to show Valentine that Damon could be cold toward me, and I also needed to know what was happening here.

“I’ll assign knights to escort you. Go back.”

Damon said it coldly, then turned away.

At that moment, Valentine approached on crutches.

“The doctor says I avoided serious injury thanks to Baroness Craig. I’ll have your scarf washed and returned.”

“It’s thanks to the goddess protecting Your Highness, the Crown Prince. Then I’ll take my leave.”

Even though Damon tried to shoo me away, I weakly rose, refusing to give up.

“Where are you going at this hour?”

“I mustn’t interfere with my husband’s work. You probably already feel like a burden enough as it is.”

Playing the role of the pitiable woman, I teared up slightly.

Seeing me like that, Valentine looked utterly sympathetic.

“Baron Craig, there are manners to be kept between husband and wife. At this late hour, what if the wolves appear again? How can you send your wife back alone?”

“Your Highness, my husband did nothing wrong. I came here without permission and brought along spoiled food after searching for him all day.”

“Surely, Baroness, you haven’t eaten either. It would be best to have dinner together and return home with your husband. What do you think, Baron Craig?”

Damon glared at me as if he wanted to bite my neck and growled.

“I’ll follow Your Highness’s orders.”

The moment he said that, I wiped away my tears and beamed with joy.

“Really? Is that allowed? Oh, wonderful! Damon, having dinner with you—it feels like a dream. I think we’ve had dinner together only three times since we married. Ah, since you left during one of those, this will really be the third time.”

I clasped my hands together and beamed like a child.

The two men each frowned, but for entirely different reasons.

“Oh, this is fun. So fun. I feel like my chest is clearing after teasing Damon so much.”

After finishing dinner and drinking wine, I was pleasantly tipsy.

With the rain pouring outside, Valentine warned that it was dangerous to go down the mountain. Following his advice, I decided to stay the night in Damon’s room.

The spacious bedroom was filled with furniture showing signs of long-term use.

It seemed Damon usually stayed here when he was away from the mansion. This must be an important place.

“Milady, I brought your master’s tunic since there’s no nightgown.”

After bathing, Miranda handed me Damon’s tunic.

It was freshly laundered, but faintly carried Damon’s musky scent.

Suppressing my fluttering emotions, I removed my robe and changed into the tunic.

The sleeves were long, reaching past my waist, and the length dragged on the floor.

For Damon, tall and well-built, it probably came to his knees—but on me, it looked like I was wearing a potato sack.

“There are no maidservants here, only male servants, right?”

“Yes. And they look so fierce. I went to fetch the laundry servant for your tunic and nearly couldn’t speak from fear.”

“Strange, indeed.”

What kind of schemes could be happening in this secret forest space? The original story didn’t explain it in detail, so it was impossible to tell.

“By the way, tonight is the master and milady’s official… meeting. I have nothing to prepare with—what should I do?”

“Meeting?”

I couldn’t help but laugh.

There were multiple rooms; Damon wouldn’t sleep in the same room as me.

Luckily, I had no desire to be in the arms of a man who didn’t like me.

“Miranda, don’t worry. Go rest. Where is your room?”

“Next to the entrance. I had gone down to the basement thinking it was my room and got scolded badly by the guards.”

It seemed something important was hidden in the basement.

“You did well, Miranda. Go rest now.”

“Yes, Milady. I hope you have a pleasant and comfortable night.”

Thinking she had overstepped by mentioning the “meeting,” Miranda bowed quickly and left.

I gave a bitter smile.

Two years of marriage and we haven’t even spent a night in the same room. If the maid felt pity for that, it proved I was merely a baroness in name.

‘Not my fault—it’s Damon’s. What good is a title if it’s only superficial.’

Though I hadn’t seen him naked, there was a statue of Damon in the garden.

I had no idea why such a thing was made. Daily, the fountain showered it.

Ridiculous, but it even included an exaggerated depiction of his… pride. Totally useless.

Putting thoughts of revenge aside, I retrieved the bread and cheese I had secretly wrapped in a handkerchief from dinner. I looked for a mouse hole to hide it.

“Here.”

I found a tiny hole and called out to the mice.

[If you want bread and cheese, come quickly. Only the first one out gets to eat.]

Soon, a mouse peeked its head out.

[Cheeky! Is there a broom or stick hidden?]

Apparently, the mice had been beaten before for stealing cheese in the kitchen. They peeked cautiously, refusing to come out.

[No broom or stick. See? Only bread and cheese in my hand.]

[Really? There’s no trick?]

[Give me info about this house. What’s in the basement?]

Tempted by the bread crumbs, the mouse dashed out, grabbed a piece, and tried to return—but bounced back because other mice were already inside.

The newcomer hid behind me, eating, and began chattering.

[Nothing to eat down there. Just stones. Hard stones. Teeth break.]

[Stones? Rocks? What kind of stones?]

I offered a jeweled earring to the mouse.

[No, warm stones. Hot stones. Teeth break.]

I couldn’t understand a word.

[Hot stones? Heated by fire?]

[Give food. Fire flashes. Whiskers burn.]

Unlike the wolves, the mice spoke only nonsense—but one grabbed the cheese from my hand. Then more mice swarmed, triggering a chaotic cheese battle.

“Eek!”

One mouse was manageable, but many made it disgusting.

[Go! Never come back! Where’s the broom!]

When I shouted, the mice vanished into their hole.

Wiping my hands at a small sink, I tilted my head.

“There are hot stones in the basement? Magic stones, perhaps?”

Damon, son of Count Rochen, had been adopted into Baron Craig’s family after the Rackton Duke destroyed his lineage.

Rumored to be a madman, Baron Craig lived in the swamp with only crocodiles—actually a great sorcerer living in seclusion.

Thus, Damon could use magic and craft magical tools.

There must be a mine nearby producing magic stones—likely for crafting magic tools or alchemy.

Analyzing the original story and current events, I roughly understood what was happening.

Feeling accomplished, I flopped onto the bed.

Damon’s scent lingered in the mattress and blankets. For a moment, it felt like I was in his arms.

Even though I hated him now—and he disliked me too—the feeling was strange.

Time passed. I drifted into a deep sleep, unaware. Then, the door creaked open.

Even though the candles were lit, an ominous shadow filled the room. Startled, I jolted awake.

As my vision cleared, Damon approached the bed, filling my sight.

Three shirt buttons undone, eyes sharp and dangerous—my body trembled like a fish impaled on a spear.

“Eek! Why are you here?”

I scrambled upright.

“Clarissa, how do you expect me to handle this?”

Damon growled. He must have heard from Valentine.

Yet my heart raced. Perhaps because my body once loved Damon so deeply.

His breath carried the scent of wine. Unlike me, he had stayed with Valentine, drinking more, and seemed tipsy.

Pale skin, dark lashes, sculpted nose, red lips—stunningly handsome Damon climbed onto the bed to intimidate me.

“Did you think you’d get away with touching my nerves?”