I Was Meant to Be the Evil Wife, But the Cold Marquis Fell for Me - Chapter 20

—The next day.

“Elina, your cheerfulness is a strength, but here especially in front of the master such behavior is not appropriate.”
“……”

After breakfast, Liliana faced Elina in her room, giving her private instruction.

Educating servants was the duty of their noble employers. Liliana tried to speak firmly, but Elina’s expression showed not the slightest shadow.

—It was clear to Liliana that her words weren’t sinking in.

She had never instructed servants before. In her family home, she had always been the one receiving instruction.

Elina thought Liliana unfit to be mistress, and Liliana herself believed it too.

But since she had promised Leivis she would guide Elina, she couldn’t do nothing.

Besides, if Elina were reassigned to backroom duties, the flow of the story might change drastically.

Leivis was destined to be bound to Elina by true love.
And Elina was destined to become a saint.

That was the correct story. The only thing Liliana could do was not obstruct their romance.

She would avoid becoming a bad wife and meeting ruin, but at least she would fulfill other duties. That was her resolve.

—Yet, as if seeing through her calculating thoughts, Elina stood with perfect posture but wore a dissatisfied look.

“The master is kind, so he forgave your behavior once. But there won’t be a second time. Remember that well.”
“…Understood.”
“I don’t want to threaten you, but at this rate, you’ll be reassigned or at worst, dismissed.”

At that ultimatum, Elina’s eyes changed. Liliana recognized that look. Eyes that wanted to discard a hateful nuisance. The same eyes her family had often turned on her.

Liliana faltered. Elina suddenly smiled brightly, as if the previous expression had been an illusion.

“You’re so kind, Madam.”

Her voice was calm, but tinged with irony.

“You should scold me more properly—oh, perhaps with a whip?”
“I would never do such a thing.”

Whipping a servant would instantly raise her “bad wife” score.

More than that, she couldn’t. She knew the pain of the whip, the sting of sharp words. She couldn’t inflict that on another.

Liliana’s firm refusal made Elina click her tongue.

(Did she just click her tongue? Did I mishear? Surely not…)

To click one’s tongue while being instructed by the mistress—unthinkable.

Yet Elina smiled brightly again.

“Yes, I’ll be careful from now on♪ Thank you for your guidance!”

She bowed cheerfully and left the room.

Liliana collapsed into her chair.

(She’s honest. Almost too honest…)

She hid neither her likes nor dislikes. She lived entirely as herself.

(…As if protected by the heroine’s aura…)

She seemed certain she would be loved and reach a happy ending.

(I hope she at least feels some sense of danger. Since she likes Leivis, she should avoid anything that risks dismissal…)

Liliana believed Elina’s affection for Leivis would keep her cautious.

She sat for a while, recovering from the mental strain.

(Perhaps a walk in the garden…)

She rose and looked out the window. The garden was beautifully tended, flowers swaying gently in the breeze.

Liliana left her room and headed outside. She felt eyes on her but ignored them. It was nothing new.

She stepped into the garden, breathing deeply of the sweet fragrance and fresh air. After walking a while, she began to sweat lightly.

—Then, nearby, something shattered.

(What was that…? From the balcony, perhaps…)

Drawn by curiosity, she went to look. No one was there.

She glanced around cautiously, but saw nothing unusual.

(I must be tense… I should calm down…)

Beneath the balcony was a shaded spot with chairs and a table. She approached to rest—

Suddenly, a shadow fell from above.

She looked up. A flowerpot spun slowly as it fell.

(I’m dead—)

The thought came naturally. She vividly imagined it smashing her skull.

—Crash!!

“……”

The flowerpot shattered at her feet. Damp soil scattered, the white lily’s stem snapped, its roots spilling from the split earth.

It looked like a substitute for her.

“…I’m alive?”

She murmured in shock.

Had it fallen just a little differently, had she taken one more step forward, it would have been her instead of the lily.

She looked up at the balcony. No one was there.

(It couldn’t have fallen naturally. Maybe someone left it on the edge while cleaning and forgot…?)

A gardener arrived, drawn by the noise. Their eyes met.

“Van, may I ask you something?”

She softly addressed him by name. He removed his hat nervously.

“A flowerpot seems to have fallen from above. Could you clean it up?”
“Y-yes, Madam…”
“Sorry to trouble you. Thank you always for the beautiful flowers. I look forward to them every day.”

The flowers displayed in the mansion were all grown and picked by him. Liliana took the chance to express her gratitude.

“…This poor thing. It bloomed so beautifully, only to…”

The broken flower and spilled soil looked pitiful.

“The bulb is intact. It will bloom again next year.”
“Really? I’m glad.”

Liliana smiled with genuine relief. Yet she wondered wistfully if she would be here to see it.

She returned inside and went to the second-floor balcony. No one crossed her path.

The marquis’s balcony was wide, the breeze refreshing. During parties, it would be lively, but now it was empty.

(Perhaps from here…)

She examined the spot where the pot might have fallen. Nothing. It was clean, no pots nearby.

(So, it wasn’t left here. It was carried and dropped? Impossible…)

That would mean deliberate malice.

(Or someone dropped it by accident and fled in fear?)

She shook her head. She mustn’t assume.

(It was just coincidence. No one was hurt.)

She returned inside, climbing the stairs to the third floor.

At the landing, her foot slipped.

Her body lifted, vision spun.

(I’m dead—)

She imagined herself tumbling down the stairs.

But her hand gripped the railing instinctively. She nearly fell, but clung on and steadied herself.

“Ow…”

Her ankle hurt faintly, twisted.

She staggered to the landing and looked down. Wax had been left on the floor.

Who was responsible? But the cleaner might not be the culprit. To suspect everyone would be unbearable.

If she made a fuss, she would only intimidate the servants like a bad wife.

(First, the wax must be cleaned.)

She limped onward. A young maid happened to pass.

“Marie, may I ask you something?”
“Y-yes!”

The maid bowed nervously. Liliana remembered she had spoken with Elina in the corridor, though she hadn’t joined the gossip.

“Please wipe away the leftover wax here. Someone could slip. It’s dangerous.”
“Yes, right away.”

Liliana watched Marie clean, thinking.

(Am I lucky…?)

Twice she had nearly died, yet survived.

(Yes, I’m lucky!!)

The thought gave her strength. She was alive, fortunate. She felt braver, more positive.

“Madam, it’s finished.”
“Thank you. Perfect. I’m glad I asked you.”

She smiled warmly. Marie blushed and nodded.