I Was Meant to Be the Evil Wife, But the Cold Marquis Fell for Me - Chapter 22

—Now then. To send money to her family, Liliana needed to rely on the treasurer.

(…I’d rather not get involved.)

The treasurer, Simon Gregory, was a highly capable man. Dutiful to his work, a little overly meticulous, but deeply trusted by Leivis.

Yet, remembering how in the novel Liliana had seduced him to embezzle House Elsdean’s assets and funnel them to the Valentin family, she felt uneasy about approaching him.

In reality, she had never spoken to him outside of work. She couldn’t imagine herself capable of such manipulation.

Still, the act of sending money to her family overlapped with the novel’s events.

Would the “force of the story” compel her into wrongdoing? The thought gnawed at her.

She glanced at the maid in her room. Only Elina was present; Anne was busy elsewhere.

“…Where is the treasurer now?”
“Mr. Simon? He’s at the mansion today.”

(…Perhaps I should ask Elina…)

It worried her to entrust such an important task to Elina, but leaving a bag of gold in her room felt riskier.

Liliana quickly wrote a letter, sealed it with wax, and pressed her crest upon it—to show it was her will, and that the money was legitimate.

She retrieved the bag of gold coins.

“—Could you deliver this letter and money to the treasurer?”
“Yes! Leave it to me!!”

Elina’s reply was bright and eager. She left with the letter and coins, and Liliana felt relief watching her go.

For now, she wouldn’t be plagued by her family’s demands.

(If only Elina and Leivis’s relationship would progress soon.)

But imagining them smiling together, picturing the “correct story,” made her chest ache unbearably.

She shook her head violently, banishing the thought.

(I want to thank Lord Leivis…)

He had prepared the money for her without a word. Thanks to him, she was saved.

It was better to build trust and friendship, even if the story ended in divorce. That way, the separation would be smoother, the compensation larger, and perhaps he would even help her enter a convent afterward.

(The only thing I can do is embroidery. He praised me for it, after all.)

Nothing else came to mind.

(What if I embroidered his crest onto a horsecloth? If it were for him personally, it might seem like I adored him but if it were for his horse, it wouldn’t be misunderstood, and he might appreciate it!)

Horsecloths were consumables, easily replaced. Thread could be provided from the marquis’s budget.

House Elsdean’s crest was the “Blazing Lion.”

On black or white cloth, she would stitch a majestic lion in gold thread—like Leivis himself.

She asked the butler to procure a black horsecloth and plenty of gold thread, requesting secrecy from Leivis. He agreed.

Offered assistance, she refused. She wanted to do it herself.

Liliana devoted five hours each night to embroidery. The thick, durable fabric required effort to pierce with the needle. She used a thimble to ease the strain, resting when tired.

It was hard work, but she felt happy. Happier than she had ever felt with a needle in hand.

At home, embroidery had been an escape. When she had repaired a torn dress overnight, it had been desperation.

—When she sewed Leivis’s button, her heart had raced.

Now, it was the same. Thinking of him, embroidering for him. It was pure joy, never a burden.

Only the fear of whether he would like it remained.

Her family sent no word. The money had reached them, and for now, they were satisfied.

—A week later.

She adjusted the final details, pressed it with an iron.

At last, it was complete.

(It’s done!)

She lifted the cloth, feeling accomplishment.

She had depicted the lion of House Elsdean powerfully. Silver mixed into the eyes, the mane stitched in flowing relief, as though a real lion roared from the fabric.

(…At least, that was my intent though there are many flaws…)

Would it truly be acceptable to give? She had taken care to make the seams smooth, so rider and horse would feel no discomfort.

(If he doesn’t want it, he can quietly dispose of it.)

Still, anxiety lingered. She folded the horsecloth carefully, wrapped it, and hid it away.

The next morning at breakfast, she noticed Leivis glancing at her repeatedly.

“Lord Leivis, is something wrong?”

He looked uneasy.

“Well… you’ve been spending much time in your room lately.”

He spoke cautiously.

“I asked the butler, but he only said I’d know when the time came. Could you tell me what you’ve been doing?”

(He made it sound so suspicious…!)

She had asked the butler to keep it secret, but hadn’t expected him to hint so openly.

She realized she had neglected Leivis during the week, consumed by embroidery. They had only exchanged greetings and shared meals.

“Of course, if you’d rather not say, that’s fine.”

He seemed less curious than simply wanting to connect.

Liliana steeled herself.

“L-Lord Leivis, I have something to give you. Could you come to my room afterward?”

Surprise flickered across his face. He hadn’t expected that. Nor had she inviting him into her room to present it.

But she wanted privacy.

Leivis looked aside, cleared his throat.

“…Of course. I look forward to it.”

His gentle expression made her catch her breath.

(Please don’t expect too much…!)

She welcomed him into her room. Though married, it was their first time together there. The servants had been dismissed; they were alone.

Leivis seemed restless. Liliana, nervous herself, retrieved the wrapped bundle.

“This is for you…”

Hands trembling, she unveiled the horsecloth.

On black fabric, the golden lion of House Elsdean roared.

Afraid of his reaction, she kept her eyes on the embroidery—where flaws seemed glaring.

(Ah… I shouldn’t have given this…)

Leivis reached out, stroking the lion’s mane.

“Magnificent…”

His voice overflowed with awe. He touched it for a long time, covering his mouth as if overwhelmed.

“You made this for me?”
“No, for your horse.”

Her voice came out curt. She regretted it instantly. She should have said “for you.”

(No… that would be too heavy…)

“To think, I can’t even express it properly. I can see how carefully it was done.”

He kept touching the embroidery.

“Please, take it.”

He studied it closely, then spread the cloth, exhaling with heat.

“Days of work for me…”
“No, for the horse…”

She stopped herself, then gathered courage.

“I wanted to thank you. I thought of you the whole time I stitched it.”

“—!”

Leivis fell silent, breath caught.

“…I’ll treasure it.”
“Eh?”

He hugged the horsecloth tightly.

“I’ll display it in the most prominent place. No, in my room, where I’ll always see it.”
“Please use it.”
“Yes. I’ll take it to the battlefield next time. Don’t worry, I won’t let it be dirtied. No one else will touch it.”

It was too grand.

Surely, he knew finer craftsmanship. His attire was made by master artisans.

Her work was only a hobby, full of flaws.

Yet he seemed genuinely delighted. His smile was no mere courtesy.

He even promised to take it into battle, to keep it untouchable.

If this was a way she could support him, she was glad. Embroidery had been worth it. Courage had been worth it.

“I almost wish I could wear it myself…”
“Please don’t.”

He looked wistfully at the horsecloth. Liliana smiled.

“Next time if you’d like, I’ll embroider something just for you.”
“Liliana…”

Her vision swayed. Her head felt light. Dizziness overtook her, her steps faltered.

“Liliana!”