“No matter how much you are the Duchess of Blake, you are being rude. Even His Majesty would not dare say such things.”
It seemed Hersia was still too gentle to scold someone like this.
Even a month of living together with Sikar Blake might make her personality a bit stronger.
No, actually—perhaps she’d become even more timid under Sikar’s overwhelming presence.
Anyway, seeing Hersia trembling helplessly, I couldn’t just stand by.
“Rude? Can’t you smell anything at all from the tea currently held by Count Hamel?”
Hamel wore a bewildered expression, as if wondering what on earth I was talking about.
“What?”
“Count Hamel, do you truly not sense this smell? It seems like ginger tea, but the ginger appears to have gone bad.”
“D-Did it?”
Did it? What nonsense. In truth, this was a complete lie.
“Yes. If you drink that tea, you might suffer stomach trouble. Better not to drink it.”
“Thank you, Duchess. Had it not been for you, I might have committed a grave mistake at Her Majesty the Queen’s tea party.”
I turned to Hersia, who still looked utterly confused about what was happening.
“Hersia, could you please bring us another cup of tea?”
I gave her a subtle wink meant only for her eyes. After a moment of flustered hesitation, Hersia replied.
“Yes. I’ll be right back, Duchess.”
Once I confirmed Hersia had left the area, I immediately changed my expression.
Precisely as Sikar had taught me—fierce and malicious. Oh, and my tone changed too.
“Count Hamel.”
“Yes, Duchess.”
“I hear you’re involved in the transport business?”
The count looked startled at my blunt address but offered no real retort.
“Has handling transport made you unusually insensitive to smells?”
“What are you implying…?”
“There are rumors you load women and drugs onto your carriages.”
Just as expected, Hamel’s expression shifted. Of course he’d be shocked—I knew about the illegal activities he’d carried out so secretly.
I spoke with the cold, detached expression I’d often observed on Sikar.
“Do you think secrets exist in this world? I could raid your mansion’s basement right now and uncover all the contraband you’ve smuggled.”
Hamel’s face turned completely pale—he clearly hadn’t expected I knew even this much.
“But… I might still grant you an opportunity.”
“W-What do you want from me?”
“Break off this marriage.”
“What?”
“Can’t you understand plain speech? Tell His Majesty you cannot marry Hersia.”
“That decision was made by His Majesty—I cannot overturn it myself.”
“If you offer His Majesty half your profits, I’m sure his mind will change.”
Hamel, who had been quietly listening, now frowned deeply.
“That’s an excessively bold request.”
“Request? It’s an order.”
Hamel’s face twisted into the most insulted expression possible.
“…!”
“How do you think I came to know these things?”
“That is…”
Hamel stopped speaking and bit his lip hard. His expression said he understood.
“As expected. His Grace already knows all about your illegal activities and intends to expose them kingdom-wide. But if you abandon your ambitions and do exactly as I say, I can help you live peacefully.”
“Why… why are you telling me this?”
I mimicked Sikar’s mocking sneer toward him.
“I simply don’t want Hersia to marry some old, bald, middle-aged count.”
Ah. True, I was imitating him—but that tone was unmistakably Sikar’s.
Hamel swallowed hard and glared at me.
“…Your threats won’t be so easily accepted, Duchess.”
“A duchess like me, whose entire social activity consists of guarding the ducal estate, may not sound very threatening. But remember—my husband is the Duke of Blake himself.”
I walked toward Hersia, who was approaching us, and laughed mockingly at Hamel as I passed.
“Hersia, it’s rather warm here. Shall we go to the cool terrace and catch some breeze?”
Hersia looked quite flustered, but when I pulled her along, she followed me absentmindedly.
I’d never spoken so fiercely to anyone before—outwardly I appeared confident, but inwardly my heart was pounding.
The only reason I could speak so boldly today was thanks to the medicine I’d taken.
Once we reached the terrace, Hersia, unable to contain her curiosity, asked immediately.
“What just happened?”
But dizziness washed over me, and I had to take a deep breath before replying.
“Huh… I’m not even sure what I said myself.”
“What?”
“I think I said what you should have said… but honestly, I don’t remember exactly. I was terribly nervous.”
“Duchess…”
Hersia’s eyes welled up, clearly touched.
“Duchess… thank you. For my sake.”
“Count Hamel was even ruder than His Grace described.”
“Yes… I’ve never in my life met anyone so insolent. I was so startled I completely forgot everything you said. My mind just went blank.”
I, too, had never spoken so rudely to anyone—I trembled the entire time I was speaking.
So I simply recalled Sikar’s mannerisms and imitated his tone and gaze.
“I feel guilty always troubling you—thank you so much.”
Hersia sighed deeply, still uneasy.
“But… I heard dance time is coming soon. Her Majesty wishes me to dance with Count Hamel.”
“Oh, don’t worry about that.”
“What?”
“Hamel won’t be able to dance today.”
Earlier, Sikar told me he slipped laxatives into Hamel’s teacup while shaking hands and exchanging pleasantries—to peek into Hamel’s memories. Soon, Hamel will be running in and out of the lavatory, barely alive, let alone dancing.
Hersia visibly relaxed at the thought of Hamel not appearing, regardless of the reason.
“Really? I was so terrified Her Majesty would absolutely insist I dance with Count Hamel.”
“Aron will be here soon—just dance with him.”
“Aron? How did Aron get here…?”
How? Sikar summoned him. If Aron sees with his own eyes how the royal court intends to use Hersia, his resentment toward the royals will grow stronger—and that resentment will fuel his loyalty toward Kian.
“I believe His Grace summoned Aron so you wouldn’t feel lonely.”
“But if Aron dances with me, won’t Her Majesty take offense?”
“It won’t matter. It’s just a dance. As long as you don’t act like lovers, it’ll be seen as insignificant.”
“Do you think so…?”
“Her Majesty is perceptive—just avoid gazing at Aron with overly loving eyes, and you’ll be fine.”
“I’m confident about that.”
“What?”
This was the most self-assured expression I’d seen on Hersia recently.
“We’ve been fighting every day lately—even if I wanted to gaze lovingly, I couldn’t.”
As we chatted a bit longer on the terrace, Sikar and Aron began walking toward us.
Aron was unusually well-dressed in formal attire today.
“Aron has arrived—go ahead.”
“Where on earth did he get such formalwear…?”
Hersia muttered to herself, then noticed me and smiled.
“Then I’ll go.”
“Yes, go ahead.”
Though she shot Aron a sideways glance, her face clearly lit up at his arrival.
Sikar naturally took my hand and whispered in my ear.
“I told you to leave it to Hersia, yet you meddled again.”
“He was such a vile man I couldn’t pretend not to notice—even nonexistent indignation would’ve flared up.”
“You spoke quite well. In my opinion, you’re more suited to being a villainess. Ideally, you should’ve raised your eyebrows more sharply—but even that was impressive.”
“Villainess? I’d understand if you called me a heroine punishing a scoundrel.”
Sikar seemed amused by how boldly I’d confronted Count Hamel.
“Is Count Hamel the only scoundrel in the world? There are many bad men—how about keeping that personality from now on?”
That meant becoming someone others fear and dread. In other words, becoming like him.
People who are feared tend to be lonely. So I simply replied.
“No.”
“I have something to tell you…”
Sikar isn’t one to hesitate when he has something to say—if he’s announcing he has something to tell me, it must be serious. I tensed slightly.
“What is it?”
“It might hurt your feelings.”
I sensed Sikar had changed—he was now considering others’ feelings. That only made my ominous premonition stronger.
“What could possibly hurt my feelings? Are you planning something dangerous for Kian?”
“No, nothing like that.”
“Then what?”
“I need to look into the Queen’s memories.”
“Wh-what? Just go shake her hand. You shake Vika’s hand all the time—what’s the big deal about shaking Her Majesty’s hand?”
“Were you bothered by me holding Vika’s hand?”
“N-no? It’s not that. I’m fine with it—go ahead and hold her hand as much as you want.”
“You seem quite bothered. Don’t worry—I’ll just glance at her memories and stop.”
Usually, one shows respect to the Queen by kissing her hand—but Dianne is a Queen who does not permit anyone to kiss her hand.
That’s why Sikar went through the trouble of placing Hersia as the Queen’s handmaiden.
But how exactly did he plan to touch the Queen’s hand?
“Wait—can you even access Her Majesty’s memories?”
“I can’t access Princess Veronia’s memories, but since the Queen isn’t of royal blood, I can.”
“Just asking to be sure—is it not enough for Hersia to simply monitor the Queen?”
“You denied it, yet here you are, clearly jealous.”
“It’s not jealousy—I’m just asking to be sure!”
“The King is actively searching for Easterners, and witnesses are emerging steadily. There must be others who, like you, crossed dimensions. If any of them are found, either Veronia dies, Kian dies, or they all die. I don’t know whether the Queen knows of Veronia’s existence—but we must confirm it.”
How terrifying it would be to be tortured immediately upon arriving in this world.
But contacting the Queen wouldn’t be easy. I worried how Sikar would manage it—but their movements proved even more calculated than I’d imagined.
Vika summoned a shadow spirit to trip the Queen slightly—and Sikar caught her.
Watching this, I felt exactly as Sikar predicted—unpleasant.
I thought he’d just grab her hand, but wrapping his arm around her waist like that was deeply irritating.
Worst of all was the Queen’s face, blushing as if embarrassed.
Male lead is a Divorced Husband
She said to him: “Tell me, what makes you like me? I’ll change it!”
Liu Changning transmigrated into a female cannon fodder character in a female-dominant novel.
After reading the first half of the novel’s plot, the first thing she did upon transmigration was to divorce the Pan Jinlian-style male protagonist she had just married.
She indulged herself, pretending to be ugly and poor.
But as time passed, the way that man looked at her became more and more unusual…
Liu Changning was dumbfounded: Tell me, what makes you like me? I’ll change!
――
This lifetime, Pei Yuanshao was rejected by the same woman twice!
The first time, she drove him away. Forced by the situation, he endured the waves of anger in his heart, yielding and humbling himself.
That person lay slanted on a rocking chair, her sallow face emotionless: “If you don’t want a divorce, go cook!”
Pei Yuanshao’s face was dark and gloomy: “You!”
The second time, after the crisis in Jinling City was resolved, the new emperor sent someone to pick him up. He turned around, stammering: “I… I have to go. If you keep me…”
That person lay on the kang bed, her back to him, as if she had long anticipated this day, crisp and clear: “Goodbye!”
Pei Yuanshao was so angry his fingers trembled: “You… you!”
The mission of family and country made him restrain himself, averting his eyes and turning to leave this broken household.
Two years later, they met again. Seeing her ethereal face, his body shook like a sieve.
“She was originally a ‘she’!”
At the Qionglin Banquet, the top scholar of the imperial examination, a talented person with exceptional speech and conduct, all the unmarried young gentlemen from aristocratic families looked at her with shy and timid eyes.
The peerless imperial official Pei Yuanshao felt the anger in his heart erupt. He pointed at the woman surrounded by the crowd at the Qionglin Banquet, his thin lips slightly curled: “Little sister, I wants that person to be the wife-master of my Mingde Prince Manor.”
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