What’s Wrong With My Marriage? I Was Bought as a Wife, Yet My Husband Is Madly in Love With Me! - Chapter 21

From the next day on, the Dwarves began visiting the mansion frequently.

Claiming they were refining their prototypes, they peppered Luce with all sorts of questions. Perhaps it was their natural disposition, or perhaps because they were speaking a language not their own, but their manner of speech was blunt and direct.

For Luce, the Dwarves’ way of talking was actually quite refreshing.

Klaus also suggested that Luce might enjoy learning a foreign language. He recommended she start with the language of the Dwarves since they were already around, so she began taking lessons from them during their visits. Through these interactions, she learned that the Dwarves came from a southern country called Ghoolam.

“People from Ghoolam love to travel. Nobles and royals alike head out just about everywhere.”

“It’s ruled by a human King. But the valley where the Dwarves live is governed by a Dwarven Chieftain.”

“The royal family has Dwarven blood in them. That’s why they’re so incredibly strong.”

They shared many fascinating stories, and Luce found herself having a wonderful time.

And then, there was Klaus.

Klaus worked with tireless energy, but he always made sure to return to the mansion by evening. He shared meals with Luce, and they slept in the same bedroom. Every morning, Luce would wake up in Klaus’s arms, her face flushing crimson as a daily routine.

(…I want to see Klaus off in the entrance hall today, too.)

Seeing Klaus off to work had become a vital part of Luce’s day. Along with a “I’m heading out,” Klaus would lightly brush his lips against her cheek. He would then kiss the ring on her left ring finger and leave with a sweet smile.

(Aaaah! To do… to do something like that…!)

The sight of Klaus kissing her ring made Luce’s heart beat at an impossible speed. It made her blood feel as if it were boiling, yet it granted her a dreamlike sense of floating. Heat would pool deep within her chest, becoming almost unbearable.

(Have I gone strange?)

She had thought falling in love would be more fun, but this felt slightly different. Luce tilted her head, wondering if she wasn’t in love with him after all. She certainly thought of him as a wonderful man.

(…I’ve fallen for him enough to hope that I’m not being deceived.)

Yet, a part of her still couldn’t fully believe it. She felt truly happy to be surrounded by people who told her they loved her, whispered sweet words, and treated her with kindness.

However, that happiness existed side-by-side with the terror that it would one day end. Luce didn’t feel she had the capacity to simply accept this happiness at face value.

(There’s no way someone like me could be allowed to stay with him forever.)

Someone like me.

Whenever she thought this, the treatment she received from her blood relatives would resurface in her mind, forcing her to check her own heart and remind herself to stay in her place. She wanted to forget, but the memories clung to her and wouldn’t let go.

Perhaps it was because she had been dwelling on such thoughts…

Early in the afternoon, a young maid approached Luce with a troubled expression.

“Madam. There is a young lady at the entrance claiming to be your younger sister.”

“…My sister. Don’t tell me Mirella is here?”

“She introduced herself as Mirella Orlov. How should we handle this?”

Nora, the head maid, was away on her day off. Deck the butler was busy dealing with the kitchen renovation contractors. Because Luce cooked occasionally, Klaus had insisted on making the space more user-friendly, and they were currently building an extension next to the main kitchen. Since the maid didn’t know how to handle visitors, she had come to Luce for advice. Even if she had gone to Deck, the matter surely would have been brought to Luce anyway.

(To visit a noble’s mansion without any prior notice… yes, that’s exactly something Mirella would do.)

As the youngest child, Mirella had always been allowed to get away with anything. Her parents, brother, and older sister all spoiled her rotten. Only their grandmother had insisted she be strictly disciplined in etiquette, but no one in the family had listened.

“Ah, Sister!”

When Luce appeared, a bright, airy voice rang out from the entrance hall. Waving her hand at Luce was undoubtedly Mirella, wearing a bonnet decorated with frills and a lovely dress adorned with ribbons.

With her porcelain skin, rosy cheeks, and sparkling blue eyes framed by long lashes, she looked like a doll plucked straight from a picture book. But Luce was not fond of Mirella. If possible, she was the person Luce least wanted to be near.

It hadn’t been that way from the start.

Luce had once doted on her cute little sister just like the rest of the family. But as Mirella grew older, she began coming to Luce with her “troubles,” resulting in more and more work for Luce to resolve. Eventually, Mirella began pinning her own failures on Luce.

A broken vase, a forgotten promise, a stained dress.

Even though Mirella was the culprit, the moment she tearfully said, “But I asked Sister Luce for help,” it became Luce’s fault for not looking after her properly as an older sister. Even when Luce did give advice, Mirella would intentionally ignore it, because Luce’s advice always required Mirella to admit she was in the wrong.

(Mirella never apologizes. She refuses to. …I didn’t realize that until right before I left the house.)

Luce suspected that even with this sudden visit, Mirella wouldn’t offer a single word of apology.

“…Mirella, it is a breach of etiquette to visit so suddenly.”

As expected, Mirella spoke without a hint of remorse. “My, how cold of you to say to your own family, Sister. I came all this way because I was worried about how you were doing. Oh, look, I baked some cookies to share with you.”

Mirella held up a basket with a smile. Luce felt a headache coming on and furrowed her brow.

“I’ll pass, Mirella. Please go home for today.”

“What? Why? At least show me around the mansion for a bit. Mother was worried about the kind of life you’re living here, too. Come on, it’ll be fine, won’t it?”

“No.”

Luce firmly rejected the offer. She had married Klaus with the intention of cutting ties with her family. Moreover, she didn’t want Mirella to enter the happy space she shared with Klaus and the people of the Barth household.

(Listening to her words makes me feel like my happiness is shriveling up.)

Mirella always found a way to drag Luce back down whenever she felt hopeful. That was exactly why Luce had never told anyone about the flower from the relief shelter, keeping it hidden as her own secret treasure.

“Sister Luce, you really are mean! If you act like that, don’t be surprised when your husband gets fed up with you. Oh, that’s right! What kind of person is your husband? I’d like to see him at least once.”