FTMR 14

Chapter 14

“Are You Saying I Should Take a Mistress?”

“C–cough.”

Embarrassed, Anette cleared her throat for no reason and recalled what she had been like before this transformation.

Even back then, her hands had never been rough like Cardin’s.

I was born with monstrous regenerative abilities, to the point of being called a seed of monsters… and the Grand Duke must have received the gods’ blessing as an Alcan royal.

Different beginnings, yet similar results—it felt strangely uncanny.

Though, of course, it wasn’t nearly as strange as the fact that she was now standing here, in this kind of relationship, with someone like him.

“Ah… they’re really small…”

Unable to contain his awe, Cardin muttered unconsciously.

Even after taking her hand and pressing his forehead lightly to the back of it in greeting, he still didn’t let go, as if her small hand fascinated him.

Anette’s brows twitched.

The Emperor and Empress had also found her childlike form cute, though they pretended not to show it.

But this man—he wasn’t even trying to hide how much he was enjoying it.

Because of that, she felt a strange sting to her pride.

She couldn’t quite explain it, but something about the way Cardin treated her like a child irritated her deeply.

A sulky voice slipped out of Anette’s mouth.

“I’m not normally this small.”

“Pardon?”

“As you already know, I’m twenty-four years old.”

The moment she said it, it sounded like childish sulking.

Still, Anette stubbornly lifted her chin.

Careful not to forget that the man in front of her was actually two years younger than she was.

“I know.”

Cardin simply nodded without comment.

She wondered if he was teasing her—but the eyes fixed on her were serious, devoid of mischief.

That calm acceptance made Anette’s cheeks heat up instead.

If he knew her age perfectly well, then this gentle attitude didn’t feel like it was only because she’d become a child…

That can’t be.

Fearing she’d lose control of her expression, Anette abruptly pulled her hand away.

And then she said what had been bothering her all along.

“You should stand up now.”

Only after watching Cardin straighten the knee he’d been kneeling on and slowly rise did Anette sit back down, taking a moment to steady her breathing.

Ever since meeting the Grand Duke, she felt as though she’d been completely swept along without control.

After calming her breath, she regained some composure.

Anette looked at the man seated neatly on the opposite sofa, his gaze fixed squarely on her.

Seeing that earnest stare reminded her of what he’d said earlier.

The person I’ll spend my life with.

Did he truly mean that?

She wanted to ask.

But she didn’t have the courage.

He might have only said that because the Emperor was there.

No—there was a much higher chance that was the case.

She was afraid that if she said it aloud, he’d realize she’d harbored pointless expectations—and she’d end up humiliating herself.

This hesitation, this fear of confronting something head-on, wasn’t like her at all.

Fortunately, Anette had a way to probe Cardin’s true intentions without asking so directly.

She might end up exposing herself even more, perhaps even humiliating herself—but—

I was going to say this anyway.

Taking a small breath, Anette began.

“Your Highness, I’m ashamed to admit this, but I don’t understand politics, and I’ve never experienced high society. I don’t know how to manage a household as a duchess. All I’ve done my whole life is wield a sword.”

And even that had been discarded once it was deemed no longer useful—only for her to be barely saved by the Alcan Empire’s offer of alliance.

“Whether it’s fortunate or unfortunate, I may be able to take up a sword again… but I don’t know when my body will return to normal. So…”

Anette swallowed.

“At present, I can’t fulfill any of the duties or roles you might expect of a Grand Duchess. Ah—of course, if Your Highness doesn’t wish it, I never intended to claim any rights from the beginning.”

She drew a clear line, worried he might misunderstand and think she was being presumptuous.

At that moment, the atmosphere around Cardin—who had been listening quietly—changed.

“Wait a moment, Princess. What exactly are you trying to say right now?”

“Pardon?”

“Are you telling me—now of all times—that you intend to call off the engagement…? Do you really think I would accept that?”

Anette was taken aback by the tremor in Cardin’s voice.

It sounded angry, yet strangely desperate—as if he were clinging to something. The tone alone made her doubt her ears.

Seeing Anette blink slowly in confusion only made Cardin more frantic.

“Princess, you already signed the engagement pledge.”

His gaze shifted to the documents the Emperor had left on the table.

Though they hadn’t yet been notarized by the temple, he looked as if he believed they already bound the two of them into a single fate.

Startled by how clearly his agitation showed—even through the mask—Anette hurriedly spoke.

“Your Highness, that isn’t what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?”

Faced with his reproachful eyes—demanding why she’d gone to such lengths to belittle herself and declare she couldn’t fulfill the role of his wife—Anette hastily explained.

“I was afraid you might be the one to suggest breaking the engagement. I know I can’t fulfill the role of Grand Duchess right now, and that I’m lacking in so many ways—but I wanted to ask you to please continue with the engagement.”

And because Anette truly wanted this marriage to happen, she swallowed her pride and added—

“If you would promise me that much, then I’ll do my best to fulfill whatever you wish. I’d live as if dead if that’s what you want… and even if you were to take a mistress, I wouldn’t—”

“Wait. Just a moment.”

Cardin stopped her.

Every word she’d said had shocked him—but the last one snapped him fully back to himself.

Clenching his teeth as if restraining his anger, he asked,

“Are you telling me—right now—to take a mistress?”

“Huh? I mean… I wasn’t exactly encouraging it…”

“That’s exactly what you meant. You’re saying it wouldn’t matter if I did.”

His voice was sharp—yet also sounded deeply sulky.

Though surprised, Anette answered calmly.

“Yes. I don’t intend to object. If you wish, even an illegitimate child, I would raise as my own—”

“That’s enough.”

No matter that it was Anette speaking—Cardin couldn’t listen any further.

He raised his hand urgently and buried his face in it, feeling as though his world were collapsing.

In this moment, he couldn’t tell whether it was fortunate that Anette couldn’t see the twisted expression beneath his mask—or regrettable that he couldn’t convey his true feelings.

“Princess… how could you say something like that…?”

Do you know how long I’ve waited for you?

Of course, Anette knew nothing of his feelings, nor of everything that had led to this moment.

And so Cardin knew well that he had no right—nor reason—to resent her.

Still, the realization that she had so little expectation of her future husband left him deeply hurt and shaken.

“There’s so much I want to refute… from beginning to end…”

Dragging a hand down his face, Cardin lifted his head and looked at Anette, who seemed utterly baffled by his reaction.

He asked quietly,

“First of all… may I ask why you thought I would break this engagement?”

“Pardon?”

Anette genuinely found his question strange.

She briefly wondered if he was mocking her—but his blue eyes held no trace of humor, which only deepened her confusion.

To be honest, although the Alcan Empire had proposed this alliance first, Anette believed the Kingdom of Hayworth stood to gain far more from it than the Empire did. If anything, the Empire seemed to be at a loss.

Queen Esther and Bridget apparently believed the Empire had accepted all that loss simply to secure a marriage for the grotesque-looking Grand Duke—but really?

Setting appearance aside, he was a man with status and power second only to the Emperor, along with wealth and honor.

If he wished to find a bride, he could do so easily—among high-ranking nobles within the Empire, or even princesses of other kingdoms besides Hayworth. In fact, there were surely many waiting for such a chance.

If Anette hadn’t existed, no matter how much Bridget cried and pleaded, the King of Hayworth would eventually have sent off his beloved daughter with tears in his eyes.

That alone meant the Grand Duke had every right to choose the bride he desired.

One word from him, and Anette would be sent back to Hayworth.

She hated that outcome so much that—even knowing she was debasing herself—she had lowered herself first and pretended it didn’t matter.

So why…?

“Your Highness… are you really asking because you don’t know?”

“Yes. I truly don’t understand why you thought I would break the engagement.”

At Cardin’s words, Anette scowled deeply.

“I’ve been telling you this whole time. I’ve become a child—and also—”

“And also?”

“And also…”

You wouldn’t want me as your bride.

No—no one would want a monster seed like me.

“….”

Even though it was an obvious truth, she couldn’t bring herself to say it aloud.

Biting her lip hard, Anette thought Cardin was being cruel.

At this point, she couldn’t cling to him any longer.

Half resigned, she finally spoke.

“I believe it would be entirely reasonable for Your Highness to request that your engagement partner be changed to Bridget. From the beginning, she must have been the one you wanted…”