5. A Mistranslation of Love

“……Hm? Is that……?”

Margie’s eyes had landed on the leather wristwatch on Frederic’s left hand.

“Ah. This.”

Following her gaze, Frederic began slowly.

“A gift you gave me. Though of course, Margie……”

He let the words trail off and ran his right hand slowly over the watch.

“You won’t remember any of it. My wife has lost all her memories, after all.”

The tone had something almost mocking about it, but Margie told herself it was just her imagination. Frederic had been consistently cold from the wedding onward, and his transformation into someone warm and attentive toward her was entirely because of her amnesia. There was no reason for him to resent that or make snide remarks about it.

“Th, that’s right. I don’t remember any of it at all…… So I gave you a gift?”

Margie responded vaguely, her gaze still fixed on his left hand.

‘I sold the watch Miss Flynn gave me as a wedding gift.’

He definitely said he sold it to a fence.

‘……They paid such a generous price. Even threw in a compliment about being privileged to receive such a fine piece of stolen goods. ……’

She had heard him say it herself, clear as anything, during the card game at the Somerset villa. So how was he wearing it?

Oh no. Could it be……?

He must have gone out and bought a knockoff in a hurry! Poor Frederic!

Unable to take her eyes off the watch, Margie drew in a sharp breath and clapped both hands over her mouth.

It doesn’t look like a cheap fake, though. He must have found a grade-A copy. The fact that he did something so beneath his dignity is worth criticizing, but the effort deserves full marks…… You can’t tell at a glance, can you? ……Wait, look at that second hand detail. It’s almost identical to the real thing. The cutting on the bezel around the dial would fool even a master craftsman. Incredible! How did they replicate a handcrafted luxury piece this convincingly!

Having never in her life purchased or even looked closely at a counterfeit, Margie found herself thinking of the few young ladies she had seen arrive at social gatherings wearing fakes, only to be found out almost immediately and thoroughly humiliated. If only they had put in even half the effort and shown half the discernment her husband had, they might have been spared the shame. Then she was nearly moved to tears by the devotion it had taken him to track down an illegal replica.

Wait. If my husband sold the watch…… I could just buy it back, couldn’t I? And then quietly swap it out for this fake without him knowing……! Oh. I really am clever.

Margie’s wide eyes shone more brightly than they had in a long time.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Margie took advantage of Frederic’s absence on an errand and put Julian in front of her.

“Your Highness. Lend me the royal carriage. To the capital.”

“What? Right now? Why?”

“Forgive me, but do I need to explain why?”

“The duchess isn’t obligated to share her personal affairs with me, but if you want to use my carriage……”

Julian had to stop there. Margie’s sharp eyes were far too pointed.

“No, think about it. I’m not trying to pry into your privacy. It’s a perfectly reasonable question. It’s not as though the duke has no carriage, and the driver your household brought here is right outside, so asking for mine first thing in the morning, what does that mean…… I’m allowed to be curious about that much, aren’t I? Hmm?”

I need to go without my husband knowing. It would be a problem if he noticed.

Rather than saying that, Margie folded her arms and studied Julian’s face in silence.

Good grief, what is with her eyes. She’s scarier than Frederic. What a pair……

“……So where exactly do you need to go?”

Julian said it with resistance, yet was already rising awkwardly from his seat and getting ready to leave.

“In front of the largest secondhand shop in the city center.”

“A secondhand shop? What for? Selling something used? Does the Graham household need quick cash?”

Julian asked with a puzzled look, but Margie didn’t answer. She only hoped Julian would use his rank to push the coachman hard and reach the capital in one fast trip.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

“Good lord, really. How many times do I have to tell you, nothing like that has come in.”

“That can’t be right. It has to be here. He said he sold it, I’m certain of it.”

“I’m telling you I’ve never seen anything of the sort and you keep at it like this.”

“Is it because you think I’ll pay too little? I’ll give you double what the watch is worth. Is that not enough? Then triple. That’s a profit by any measure, isn’t it?”

“Ma’am, double or triple doesn’t matter if there’s nothing here to sell. It genuinely isn’t here. He has never set foot in this shop.”

Margie had rushed to the largest secondhand shop in the capital and was in the middle of a heated exchange with its owner.

“Can you swear to it? That Frederic never even walked through that door?”

“A face like Duke Graham’s isn’t something I could forget. Anyone who could forget a face like that has a problem with their eyesight, not their memory. On top of that, if he’d come in carrying the extraordinary watch you’re describing, we’d have been dining out on that story for years. But neither I nor any of my staff have seen so much as a strand of that golden hair. Swear to it? Gladly. I’ll stake my shop on it, ma’am.”

Margie failed, in the end, to recover the watch.

“What’s this. What happened to your face.”

Margie trudged back to the carriage and slumped into her seat. Julian took one look at her miserable expression and startled.

“Are you all right?”

“Yes. Thank you for your concern, Your Highness.”

Margie leaned back against the seat and closed her eyes. The dark energy radiating off her made it quite clear that anyone who spoke to her would regret it.

“……Move out. Back to the duchy.”

“Yes, Your Highness. As you command.”

Julian gave the order to the coachman without taking his eyes off her. Margie worked to breathe through the frustration she couldn’t shake, exhaling in short bursts, while Julian stared at her flushed cheeks, the neat line of her nose, her firmly pressed lips, and her dark, full hair.

“……I don’t know what’s made you this upset.”

A long stretch of fast travel passed before Julian finally spoke.

The capital was already far behind them, the duchy nearly in sight. The royal coachman was exceptionally skilled, and the four horses he drove matched any motor car in strength and speed. More than anything, no carriage or automobile in the kingdom would fail to yield to the royal banner.

“But if a marriage makes one person miserable…… is there really any need to keep enduring it?”

“……?”

Margie opened her eyes slowly and looked at Julian across from her.

“A relationship that only holds together because one person is forcing it to doesn’t look particularly healthy.”

“Your Highness.”

“Like you and my brother right now.”

“……”

“Frederic was always a lost cause, you know. It would have been the same no matter who he married. I know him better than you do, when it comes to that.”

“……”

“You’re the only one working yourself to the bone over a man who might as well be a wall.”

The way Julian addressed her had grown a little warmer.

“You lost your memory in the accident, they said.”

His voice softened to match.

“Then the reason to remain in that marriage disappears.”

“……Pardon?”

What does Your Highness know about Frederic and me!

Margie had to bite down hard on her lower lip to keep from snapping that out loud.

“Divorce him.”

“……!”

This prince really has gone too far!

Julian had finally crossed a line, and Margie’s brow drew together.

“Divorce him and come to me. I’m saying come to the palace.”

“Excuse me? The palace? Your Highness and me?”

It came out almost like a shriek.

“I’m not asking you to leave tomorrow. I’ll wait until the divorce paperwork is sorted. I’m a generous prince of Oslande.”

“What on earth are you saying, Your Highness!”

“If you’d like, I’ll hire staff to handle the paperwork for you. The fastest and most capable people available. For your divorce.”

“There’s a limit to how far a man can go in tormenting a woman, even a prince. How can you possibly…… I don’t care that you’re royalty, I won’t stand for this……!”

“Tormenting? This is a confession.”

“……?”

A confession? More like a new form of harassment. Apologize to me! I want an apology!

Margie’s face had gone fully sour.

But had there been any romantic signals between this man and her? At most they had exchanged a few words of greeting, and even then Frederic had always been right there beside her. When exactly had he started planning to divorce her from her husband…… This man is completely deranged.

“……I have been clumsy in attending to Your Highness. If I inadvertently gave you the wrong impression and caused any confusion, I sincerely apologize……”