I Was Meant to Be the Evil Wife, But the Cold Marquis Fell for Me - Chapter 27

From then on, Liliana spent nearly every night in Leivis’s bedroom. And gradually, a new worry grew within her.

The more magic training she received, the more she thought of him.
The more of his magic she accepted, the more she craved.
Not only the flow of power through their joined hands, but his warmth, his voice, his scent lingered in her mind.

She found herself thinking she liked him.
So much so that she feared she might blurt out “I love you” in the middle of training.

(Am I broken somehow…?)

And so Liliana resolved: she needed to learn more about magic, about sorcery.

She had to know whether these feelings were abnormal, or natural.

But she couldn’t ask Leivis.
If she did, and he dismissed it as “a misunderstanding”—

(Ahhh! Too embarrassing!!)

She would die of shame.

(He worries for me, spends his time teaching me and I harbor such indecent feelings.)

If he told her such emotions had no place in a contract marriage, that she was being frivolous. She would die.
If he grew disgusted, abandoned her. She truly would die.

So Liliana slipped into the library, wandering between shelves until she reached the section she sought.

(There should be books on magic here…)

She froze. Too many. As expected of the Elsdean family, their collection of magical texts was overwhelming. Similar titles, nearly identical ones, all complex.

(This one… “Foundations of Modern Magical Theory”? If it’s foundations, it should be simple…)

She pulled it carefully, stroked the cover, opened it.

(It’s difficult. This is “basic”?)

She could read the words, but the concepts were unfamiliar, the terms strange. She flipped pages, searching for something she could grasp until one section caught her eye.

(“Differences in Male and Female Magic”…?)

The Nature of Magic

Male magic was “aggressive” and “outward,” likened to the sun or a volcano. It excelled at projecting energy outward, suited for combat—defense, destruction.

(Yes! Lord Leivis’s magic is hot, strong, so magnificent… I want to entrust myself to it completely…)

Female magic was “receptive” and “inward,” circulating energy, harmonizing. It excelled at healing and support, stable like earth or water.

(He said mine was deep.)

Magical Inheritance

Because magic was tied to life force, if parents’ magic levels differed greatly, conception could be unstable. The stronger side overwhelmed the weaker, making conception difficult, and even if successful, pregnancy often failed.

(I’d heard this, but seeing it explained makes sense…)

Her parents had not been strong in magic. Her father’s line was ordinary; her mother’s family was famed for high magic, but her mother herself was average.

Yet Liliana had been born with extraordinary magic, burdening her mother so much she could never bear another child.

“…Can I truly withstand Lord Leivis…?”

She whispered—

“What are you reading?”
“Eek?!”

Leivis had appeared beside her, peering at the book. She slammed it shut, clutching it to her chest.

She hadn’t noticed him at all.

(Did he hear me…?)

They were husband and wife, so it shouldn’t matter but she was mortified.

“Interested in magical theory?”
“Y-yes…”

Did he know what section she’d read? The thought made her burn.

“That’s a beginner’s text. Easier to read.”

He said it casually.

(Easy? It’s impossible!)

She had only managed because that part interested her.

“I’d like to start with basics…”
“Skim through, then focus on what interests you. Revisit the same book often. That’s the fastest way to understand.”

His gentle advice reassured her. As a master of magic, he knew best.

“Yes… may I read this in my room?”
“Of course.”

He looked pleased. Perhaps it delighted him that she shared his passion.

“And our magic levels are compatible. We match well.”

—He had heard.

“And I’ll wait until you’re ready.”

He said it calmly, then pulled another book from the shelf.

Liliana hugged her book tightly.

“Wait” meant “someday.”
That was the purpose of marriage. She knew. But—

Suddenly, “someday” felt real.

In that room, on that bed.
With his scent, his hands, his warmth—

He would guide her gently, as he did in training.

And someday, her body, her womb, would carry his child.

Her body burned.

(No! I must keep this a white marriage…!)

Her fingers clutched the book hotly, her face surely crimson.

(Then I’ll enter a convent, embroider peacefully…)

But strangely, that future blurred.

“……”
“What’s wrong?”
“N-nothing…”

She thrilled at a future with Leivis, yet could no longer picture the convent.

Fear struck her.

She was wishing for a future outside the “correct story.”

That should not be allowed.

—But she remembered his vow: No self-deprecation.

His promise pressed on her heart.

“Liliana, what do you think of this library?”

His gentle voice lifted her. She looked around—the towering shelves, countless books.

“It’s incredible. So many precious books, freely open. It’s wonderful.”
“Yes. Few places have such a collection of magical texts.”

He looked proud.

“How did you gather them?”

She asked innocently. They seemed too new to be ancient.

“By copying, of course.”
“…Eh?”
“Writing is the best way to learn.”
“You… copied them yourself?”
“Not only me. Some are my father’s, some ancestors’. I began copying my father’s books at six.”

She imagined little Leivis, diligently copying texts. Warmth filled her.

“I wish I could have met you as a child…”

He smiled.

“I wish I’d met you earlier too. Earlier engaged, earlier here, building trust.”

His sincere voice struck her heart. His gaze was steady.

“The past can’t change. But the future, we’ll share it together.”

—That was not the “correct story.”
He was meant to love another.

Yet—

“I promise. I’ll protect you, and the family we build.”

His smile, his words, were light. A dazzling light for the future.

Liliana admitted her feelings.

(…I love Lord Leivis…)

Not a mistake. Not a whim.

She loved him, his entire being.

She wanted to live in the future he spoke of.

She refused to believe ruin lay ahead.

“Yes! I’ll do my best too.”

The words slipped out naturally.

At once, his body stiffened.

“Th-that means… you… you’re ready…?”

He stammered, eyes darting. She realized—

“—Not yet!”

She blurted reflexively.

“…Sorry. I’ll wait. I’ll truly wait.”

He muttered, turning pages of his book.

“…Lord Leivis, your book is upside down.”

The book he’d been “reading” was inverted.

He blinked, face flushing, and corrected it.

“Ah… that explains the strange language.”

He had held it that way ever since she whispered her doubt about accepting him.

(He’s been waiting so eagerly…)

Her heart pounded. Of course, he wanted an heir. It was their duty.

(And I… I want to walk into the future with him…)

—So, just a little longer.
She wanted him to wait a little longer.