Good afternoon, Madam. I should have paid my respects earlier, but His Grace did not set a time for me, so I am only now offering my greetings. I am Andrea Haybon, head maid of the Blake Dukedom.
Head Maid Andrea is a composed individual with little emotional fluctuation, said to be around his forties.
Though there was not much detailed description about him, I was certain he must be a decent person, given that he had served alongside Sikar’s parents since their time.
“Meeting a new master suddenly, I must seem very unfamiliar to you, but please don’t feel overly intimidated. I look forward to your guidance from now on.”
“As a subordinate, it is only natural to hold proper respect for one’s superior. I shall ensure, as head maid, that no one dares challenge your authority, Madam, by firmly maintaining discipline among the staff.”
Ah, right. He was this kind of principled character.
“Do as you please.”
“Thank you, Madam. Should there be anything you need prepared in the future, please inform me and I shall arrange it. Also, the maid attending to your personal needs will be Bella, the chamber maid.”
“Then, what about Meiri?”
“Meiri was temporarily assigned to reception duties, but currently handles miscellaneous tasks.”
For such menial work, the child seemed quite clever and quick-witted.
“No. Forget Bella. Assign Meiri as my personal chamber maid.”
Though Andrea could have been surprised by this unexpected remark, he showed no reaction.
“However, Meiri lacks sufficient experience managing chambers. Are you certain that is acceptable?”
“Well, she may lack experience, but she’s quite sharp. If it’s Meiri, she’ll learn quickly.”
“Understood, Madam.”
“And prepare some chicken soup. I want it ready to serve the child as soon as they wake.”
“You must be referring to the child in the guest room. I will see to it, Madam.”
“Then, I leave it to you.”
“Yes, Madam.”
After finishing my conversation with Andrea, I sprawled out on the sofa and stared blankly at the ceiling.
‘As expected, I’m still not used to speaking like this.’
The reason I suddenly began using this local aristocratic manner of speech was entirely because of Sikar.
Last night, he insisted I must speak like nobility—and once again, brandished that accursed sword while drilling me on proper diction.
It was only when I deeply realized—just as one should never learn to drive from one’s husband—one should never learn speech from one’s husband, that Sikar finally said, “That concludes today’s etiquette lesson.”
Calling it an etiquette lesson was misleading—it felt more like “Step One: Surviving Your Husband.”
Before lunch, Andrea prepared the chicken soup I requested. I asked for it because when Kian was ill, his father always made him chicken soup.
‘I hope eating this helps the child recover fully, in both body and spirit.’
“No matter how alone you think you are, for the mistress of a dukedom to lie sprawled across the sofa so indecorously—”
This is all because you’ve pushed me so hard my soul nearly left my body.
Startled by Sikar’s sudden, silent arrival, I bolted upright.
“So I hear from Andrea that you ordered chicken soup? You’ve certainly put that little head of yours to clever use.”
That was, in its own way, one of Sikar’s rare compliments. Not that I particularly cared for it.
‘I’m not that soft-hearted, you know.’
“For a child in an unfamiliar environment, it’s best to offer familiar experiences.”
“I thought the same. I was about to instruct Andrea to prepare chicken soup myself.”
‘Hmm. Sounds to me like you’re just saying that because you hate losing to me.’
Sikar extended his right palm toward me.
“Give me a high-five.”
“…What?”
“In your world, people clap hands together in moments like this. Isn’t it called a high-five? Am I wrong?”
Though I stubbornly resisted copying such trivial things, I reluctantly gave in under his glare, biting my lip as I placed my hand against his palm.
As our palms met with a clap, Sikar looked at me amusedly and then interlaced his fingers with mine.
“So you’ve decided to use Meiri instead of Bella.”
Ah, so this guy was building up to reading my memories again—using “high-five” as an excuse.
‘So because I’ve been refusing to hold hands lately, you’ve resorted to tricks like this?’
“You still haven’t kicked that leg-tapping habit.”
“That’s something I only do when I’m alone.”
“Unconsciously, habits formed in solitude surface even when you’re with others.”
Only after lecturing me a bit longer did Sikar seem satisfied and finally release my hand.
“I must enter the palace today, so I’ll be away from the manor. Leaving you alone like this worries me. Even in my absence, don’t lose your composure—maintain the dignity befitting the mistress of this dukedom before the staff.”
Sikar is leaving the manor today? Could this be my first real taste of freedom since arriving here?
Once Sikar was gone, my first desire was to eat my fill of whatever I wanted. Recalling all the oppression I’d endured—being denied even proper meals under the guise of “maintaining the mistress’s dignity”—brought a wave of resentment.
The moment I heard Sikar had left the manor, I was ready to dash straight to the dining room.
‘Andrea! Please prepare roast beef and crumble immediately, and for dessert, shortbread and a warm cup of coffee!’
But I couldn’t run off. It was obvious I’d be caught again today and forced to let Sikar read my memories!
Sikar probably wouldn’t develop jealousy even if he lived a hundred lifetimes.
Just as I sat there with a sullen expression, Vika entered with Meiri. Meiri set the food she carried onto the table, while Vika stood beside me, wearing an irritatingly smug smile.
“His Grace has strictly ordered me to remain at your side until you have fully mastered dining etiquette, Madam.”
The food Vika brought consisted of dishes typically served at social gatherings—things I disliked, such as snails and caviar, which offered no comfort to my palate.
Moreover, they simply didn’t suit my taste at all.
It would be nice if they cared for my stomach as much as they cared for the mistress’s dignity—feeling full from eating such food felt even more absurd.
Sikar scratched his left ear a few times, then waited in the empty, deserted audience chamber for Gillian, who had gone into the royal council meeting.
‘The oath to one’s liege runs deeper than blood, the promise to one’s lord stands firmer than any covenant, and the love for one’s sovereign is holier than faith.’
These were words Sikar’s father, Bemon, who had devoted everything to his liege, often repeated—not only to his son but also to his subordinates.
Having lost his father to the deposed king’s betrayal, Sikar considered those words nonsense.
Initially, he supported Gillian partly to stabilize his crumbling dukedom and partly to easily manipulate the king.
But when he helped overthrow the deposed king, restored order to the chaotic realm, and brought comfort to the suffering populace, he felt a faint warmth in his chest.
It was then, for the first time, that he understood his father’s heart.
Thus, he extracted an oath from Gillian: never to keep secrets from his vassals.
Yet Gillian was now treading the exact same path the deposed king had taken with his own father.
The Gillian he saw in Yura’s memories was not the sovereign he had once supported. Still, he wanted to confirm once more—did Gillian still remember the oath they had sworn together?
Gillian, having hastily concluded the royal council, entered the audience chamber with an awkward smile.
“Did you wait long?”
Gillian entered and sat down urgently, like someone late for an appointment, and immediately drank some water.
It was as if he had rushed over without even pausing for a sip after hearing of Sikar’s arrival at court.
Though protocol dictated one must rise when the king enters, Sikar merely leaned back on the sofa, legs crossed.
This signaled to Gillian that Sikar did not yet fully recognize him as king—and simultaneously asserted Sikar’s position as the kingdom’s supreme authority.
Though Sikar rarely showed emotion, no hostility was visible on his face—nor, for that matter, any trace of loyalty.
‘The moment he ascended the throne, he was already plotting to secretly find and eliminate royal family members…’
Worse yet, later he even asked Sikar to eliminate Kian, claiming Veronia was planning to place Kian on the throne.
Thinking that he, like his father before him, was fated to suffer at this man’s hands, Sikar felt a sudden impulse to eliminate Gillian right then and there.
But now was not the time. Gillian was flanked by his trusted mages and elementalists, and all members of the Recador royal family possessed divine power—making total victory uncertain.
To move against Gillian, Sikar needed support from other nobles, but he lacked justification. To gain legitimacy, he would need to find Princess Veronia, whom Gillian had imprisoned.
Unfortunately, Sikar could not read the memories of royal blood—they were born of such sacred lineage.
Where on earth had he hidden her?
“Your Majesty.”
“Yes. Please speak, Lord Sikar.”
“Do you remember what I said?”
“Of course. Not a single word you spoke, Your Grace, have I forgotten.”
“Do you also remember telling me you would never keep secrets from me?”
“How could I forget?”
‘Liar.’
Until now, Sikar believed Gillian respected and feared him above all others. But after reading Yura’s memories, he realized it was all merely a scheme to fortify his own royal authority.
Sikar clenched his fist tightly, suppressing the urge to grab the table before him and hurl it straight at Gillian’s face.
“You must remember it for the rest of your life.”
It was a warning that foretold their ruin.
After leaving the palace, Sikar walked toward where his carriage was waiting.
He never employed a separate coachman—whenever he traveled anywhere, he entrusted the carriage to Durion.
Durion was an orphan abandoned in front of a monastery; as he grew, he caused so much trouble he was transferred to a poorhouse, but didn’t stay there long either.
After coming of age, he gained renown as a mercenary on the battlefield, and met Sikar when they both fell into a giant antlion pit—thus beginning their bond.
As Sikar approached the carriage, Durion, who had been yawning in the driver’s seat, turned his head.
He had a bright and cheerful disposition, but having learned only fighting as he grew up, he possessed no refinement and was rather rough around the edges.
“Why the gloomy face? Did someone steal the candy right out of your mouth?”
“Shut up. Just get going already.”
Durion gripped the reins, but showed no intention of starting the carriage.
“I heard you’re sleeping in separate chambers? Why? The Madam is not only beautiful but also kind. Haven’t you heard the saying—make a woman cry, and you’ll get frostbite?”
“Then let the frost come.”
“Either way, it’s practically a natural disaster. Be careful. You shouldn’t make a kind woman cry. How hurt must she feel?”
“So? What exactly are you trying to say?”
“You even told Andrea to buy the wedding ring, and didn’t even show your face when she put on her wedding dress.”
“She’s not the type to care about such things anyway.”
Durion, looking exasperated, ruffled his carefully swept-back bangs with his hand.
“Ah, you’re truly hopeless. Don’t you realize the servants are watching? They might start seeing the Madam as nothing more than a foreigner bought for money.”
“Even so, no one would dare challenge the authority of the Duchess.”
“True, perhaps—but suppose, just suppose, such talk reached the Madam’s ears? Wouldn’t she be hurt? I give you honest advice, and you ignore it!”
“Your words sound like you’re telling me to share a bed with her.”
“No, that’s not what I meant. I’m saying, buy her a ring. Women like that sort of thing. She’ll be touched.”
“A ring?”
“Yes. A ring.”
Sikar recalled Yura’s words from not long ago, when she’d pouted and said:
‘A proposal is done with something round.’
Was that “round thing” referring to a ring?
Come to think of it, Jin Yura had never even properly experienced romance, let alone received a ring—she’d probably want to receive one at least once.
‘I have to worry about such trivial things now.’
Though Sikar found it slightly bothersome, he felt there was no need to invite unnecessary gossip.
“To the jeweler’s.”
This time, Durion, seemingly pleased, pulled firmly on the carriage reins.
My Arch-enemy Sealed My Memory and Said That He is My Husband
This is an incredibly captivating story that you absolutely shouldn’t miss! I’ll give a brief introduction here, and below you’ll find a detailed synopsis of the plot.
The female lead is a fierce and powerful demon king. The male lead is a once-in-a-millennium celestial lord, admired by the entire cultivation world.
They are equally matched, legendary rivals who have battled for centuries.
In the final duel, the female lead is gravely injured. The male lead saves her, seals her memories, and hides her true identity. He tells her that he is her fiancé. His entire life has been flawless—except for the one thing he never expected, never controlled, and never wanted to control: falling for his greatest enemy. She is his inner demon, his obsession.
When the female lead regains her memories, she is furious at his deception.
She makes his life a living hell.
And somehow, the male lead—possibly a total masochist—doesn’t mind at all. In fact, he’s happy she’s paying attention to him.
Yep, we’re back to my favorite trope: male lead suffering. If you love this kind of story, jump into the pit with me now!!!
Intro
Dong Xia lost her memory.
Her handsome and extremely powerful fiancé Li Qing comforted her: “It’s okay if you can’t remember. I’ll always be with you.”
Everyone thought Dong Xia’s ancestors must have burned incense to get such a perfect fiancé. He was the number one person in the immortal realm, yet he remained chaste and only loved her.
…
The day before marrying her fiancé, Dong Xia finally remembered everything.
She wasn’t suffering from memory loss at all.
Her arch-enemy had made her fake her death, destroyed her cultivation, replaced her memories, and pretended to be her deeply in love fiancé.
No wonder he said, “It’s okay if you can’t remember”!
Dong Xia laughed coldly as she pulled out her long knife: Li Qing, prepare to die 🙂
*
Li Qing, as the supreme being of the immortal realm, was the people’s shining beacon.
The only unknown stain in his life was his affection for Dong Xia, the ruler of the demon realm.
In the final battle of the war between immortals and demons, the sky collapsed and the earth shattered. The ruler of the demon realm was finally slain under the sword of the supreme being of the immortal realm, and everyone in the immortal realm applauded.
The cultivation world lost a ruler of the demon realm.
And in the back mountain of Li Qing’s cave dwelling, he secretly hid away a fiancée.
Notes:
1. The female lead is white on the outside, black on the inside, and the queen of flattery; the male lead repeatedly tests the edge of darkness, a VIP guest at the crematorium.
2. Fantasy cultivation world setting.
[Touch the gear icon in the bottom right corner of the screen to move to the next chapter if you want.]
