The Villain's Sickly Wife Dislikes Being Overprotected - Chapter 2.13
My husband greatly disliked the Duke’s family losing face. It was natural. Since he had taken the position after killing his half-brother, he would fear even the slightest shaking of that position.
He gave me not only the stenography notebook but also several other magical devices.
The original Ekette would have been helplessly swayed by the nobles’ bullying.
For now, I decided to use the stenography device when I needed to record later, and I went to the table with snacks and put a few cookies on a plate.
Right now, the lower-ranking nobles were still entering, so my turn was far off. Since I didn’t know anyone anyway, I might as well fill my stomach.
I started eating the cookies one by one.
Mm, delicious.
After I had finished about two pieces, someone sat down at my isolated table.
“Hello, Duchess.”
It was the first person to speak to me directly.
“It’s been a while. I heard rumors that you would come to today’s banquet, but I didn’t think you would.”
Upturned eyes and plump lips, with smooth brown hair that was well-maintained at first glance.
Lady Lucy Stober. Ekette’s memory told me who she was.
Although we hadn’t spoken face to face many times, there was a reason I remembered her name clearly.
She wasn’t exactly a good acquaintance of mine.
“There were rumors?”
“There was talk that you had a dress made for the banquet.”
“I thought I was moving quietly, but it seems the word spread.”
“Everyone is very interested in the Duchess.”
Interest? More like jealousy or disregard, I’d say.
How much gossip must there have been about someone from an unremarkable family snatching the position of Duchess, beating out all the prestigious families?
Wouldn’t they have been looking for any little thing to use as an excuse to trample and insult me?
It was a reasonable deduction based on the life of Ekette that I remembered.
Especially regarding the lady in front of me, it was even more accurate.
“Did you come with His Grace the Duke to this banquet? Those who don’t know are all saying that you came alone, but I didn’t think that would be the case.”
Right, as if I would have come alone.
Why is everyone so obsessed with this partner business?
I was about to snap back that of course I came with my husband, but then I changed my mind.
“Well, we’ll see, won’t we?”
In the past, Kyron had been an object of admiration for many ladies due to his handsome appearance and sharp charisma.
Among them, Lady Stober, in addition to her romantic interest in Kyron, had great ambition for the position of Duchess itself.
Her family was also a Marquis family that was boldly grasping power and rising in influence day by day. She had flawless qualifications to marry a Duke.
Lucy Stober had judged that she was more suitable than anyone else to be Kyron’s match. Of course, the Marquis family had also put in effort to make the marriage happen.
A man with the ambition and ability to kill his brothers and take the Duke’s position, and on top of that, excellent looks.
Being the son of a second wife was a bit disappointing, but such a flaw wouldn’t be a big problem.
So when Ekette was suddenly designated as the Duchess, she must have felt considerable betrayal and humiliation.
To think that the person chosen over her was such a woman.
Her assessment of Ekette was that she knew nothing about handling power to the point that the noble status didn’t suit her and that she was extremely naive and shameless.
Her values dictated that if someone occupied a position beyond their station, it was justifiable to trample and pull them down.
I don’t know by what criteria one can arbitrarily judge another’s station, but that was her thinking anyway.
Even she boldly went around speaking those thoughts to the point that they reached Ekette’s ears.
“Ah, I see you want to avoid answering.”
Lady Stober interpreted my answer subjectively.
“Excessive interest is burdensome. It doesn’t seem to be interest in a good sense either.”
“Surely you didn’t come alone, did you?”
“Is that what you’re hoping for?”
“It’s just that His Grace the Duke isn’t the type to come to such gatherings, so I was wondering.”
“I hope the reason you’re asking so persistently isn’t because you’re waiting for my husband?”
Lady Stober, who had been responding without hesitation, retreated slightly, saying, “Haha, of course not.”
“His Grace is already married.”
“Right? After all, my husband has no interest in you.”
At those words, her expression crumpled as easily as a piece of paper.
Kyron isn’t just indifferent to me, you know. He’s indifferent to you too. In a way, you could say it’s quite fair.
“It seems our conversation has been somewhat sharp after not seeing each other for a long time. I apologize.”
I raised an eyebrow at her calmer tone.
Apologizing first? It’s rare to see her, with her strong pride, backing down first.
“Rather than having such a tense conversation with you today, I’d like to take this opportunity to get closer to you.”
“With… me?”
I have no intention of becoming close to her.
“Since you don’t have other close friends in social circles.”
Lady Stober’s lips curled up ominously. Her gaze turned towards the people around us.
“Isn’t that right, everyone? None of you are close to the Duchess, nor do you want to become close to her in the future, right?”
She was insulting me while pretending to extend a hand. Saying that I have no close friends in social circles.
“Let’s be close, Duchess.”
This is clearly not pure goodwill, but a desire to get closer for her own benefit. I’m not sure what that benefit might be.
I’m indeed an outsider in social circles, but to get close to that lady because of it? Anyone can see it’s a foolish choice.
I’m not sure how the original Ekette would have handled this situation. She might have tried to smile and accept it without showing any sign of displeasure.
Of course, I can’t be that docile.
“I’m sorry, Lady. You’re not the type I want to be close with.”
But Lady Stober wasn’t the type to back down after one rejection. She was the type to persistently harass.
“Then what type do you like? I can adjust to suit your preferences.”
Adjust, indeed. Anyone watching might think she’s trying to flatter me.
“Hmm… I like gentle people.”
“…Pardon?”
She asked as if she had misheard.
“Unfortunately, it seems you won’t do.”
Translator
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lurelia
Known for turning pages faster than I move in real life. Warning: May suddenly vanish into fictional realms, leaving behind only a vaguely potato-shaped indent on the sofa.