A Wife Seeking Her Husband's Attention

On the sword training grounds of House Klaus, the family's soldiers drilled in time with their chants. Kalian watched them move as one, beads of sweat rolling down their necks with every gust of wind.

"Your Grace."

At the knight's voice, Kalian glanced to the side — and froze. His brow furrowed, just slightly. He had seen a figure approaching from a distance.

"I had a feeling..."

Kalian's lips barely moved.

"I knew it."

It had only been a few days since that small jolt of shock — watching Esika rise from her seat as if she had not the faintest interest in him.

Who was Esika Klaus, after all? Was she not the woman who had chased after him until he was sick of the sight of her?

She used to barge into his office four or five times a day on the pretext of bringing tea. She would come to the training grounds as well, constantly striking up conversation, making herself known. Even when he went for a walk she would trail after him, and every time Kalian lost his temper she would look up at him with that stupid, teary face.

"I just need to talk with you, Kalian. We are..."

How infuriating that mumbling mouth had been.

"...husband and wife."

Every time he saw that face, he felt nothing but weariness. Conversation? That was something people who actually understood each other did. She was from a merchant family that knew nothing but money, ignorant of the conversation topics and etiquette of the Torres nobility. So Kalian had never wanted to talk with Esika. Why should he have to make small talk with a woman who had bought her place as his wife with money? He had no intention of understanding her pleas.

And yet those were the words she had tossed out so indifferently.

"I find myself thinking this is a waste of both our time."

Then she had risen from her seat with those icy eyes.

He should have felt relieved. Instead, it was strange. Something had twisted unpleasantly in his gut — a lingering irritation, an uneasy aftertaste that had sat in his chest for a long time.

But in this moment, Kalian felt only the old irritation rising again.

Esika stood before him. She was wearing that red dress of hers, though at least today she wasn't dripping with those garish jewels that never suited her. Her face seemed somehow clearer, her gaze colder — but her purpose in coming here could only be one thing.

Kalian opened his mouth.

"I don't have time to deal with you—"

Kalian's eyebrow twitched. Esika lowered her gaze slightly, as if in greeting. Then she walked straight past him.

Kalian stood still, replaying what had just happened. Esika had come to the training grounds. The reason she'd come was obvious — to talk to him. And yet today's Esika had cut him off mid-sentence and simply walked away.

"...?"

Kalian hurriedly turned toward the direction she'd gone. He could see her back. Esika was heading toward the weapons storehouse beside the training grounds.

When she stopped in front of it, an older soldier came out and bowed to her. They appeared to be exchanging a few words.

Kalian watched her from behind. Esika didn't so much as glance at him, as if he weren't even in her field of vision. As if she had truly come here on her own business...

Impossible.

Kalian shook his head. What reason would a duchess have to come to the training grounds? Esika was an incompetent woman who could barely manage even the household's daily affairs. There was no way she would take an interest in anything related to the army or the household troops.

Is she trying a different angle to get my attention?

There were women like that, from time to time. Women who pretended to take an interest in fields ordinary ladies wouldn't touch, just to stand out to men. He hadn't thought Esika had even that much cunning — this was unexpected.

Should I even praise her for it? Ridiculous.

Kalian twisted his lips and looked away. When they acted like this, the thing to do was simply not show interest. If he didn't pay attention, she'd grow desperate on her own and give up.

Kalian was certain Esika wouldn't leave the training grounds. Not until he said a single word to her.

But after watching the soldiers train for a few more minutes, he glanced toward the weapons storehouse — and no one was there.

His brow hardened at yet another prediction gone wrong. Kalian hurriedly looked around, and far in the distance, Esika was already a mere speck. His lips parted slightly.

She had actually had business here? It was hard to believe.

Kalian strode toward the weapons storehouse. The older soldier who had spoken with Esika earlier came out and hastily bowed.

"Your Grace!"

"What did she talk about?"

The soldier looked a little startled by the question. But after a moment, he composed himself and spoke.

"Ah... you mean Her Grace? She asked about the swords."

"She asked if she could handle them, and she admired the quality. Said the forging technique seemed excellent... And she asked where we purchase the swords here. I told her today was the day the new blades arrived, and she handled those as well before she left. She seemed quite taken with a rapier."

Kalian frowned with one eyebrow.

"This wasn't her first visit?"

The soldier nodded.

"No, Your Grace. She first came five days ago."

Kalian's fist twitched.

So she had truly come to the training grounds not to see him, but because she was interested in swords?

No. That couldn't be. Esika was nothing more than a noble lady who would shriek at the mere sight of blood on a blade.

"Well... Her Grace seemed quite knowledgeable about swords. Things like blade orientation and durability. It wasn't shallow knowledge, either."

The soldier continued, as if genuinely impressed by Esika. Kalian's pupils wavered for a moment before settling back into calm.

She was from a merchant family — she might have studied all sorts of things. Weapons could well have been among them.

But what was currently grating on Kalian's nerves wasn't the fact that Esika had asked about swords.

"So..."

Kalian turned, his lips moving. His violet eyes were trembling quite darkly.

A peculiar mix of indignation and displeasure crossed Kalian's face.

Yuri changed the cloth on her leg with a sweat-soaked face. Blood had soaked through the fabric — the wound still hadn't healed. Because Esika had poured salt water over it, the injury had festered and worsened.

Yuri ground her teeth.

"Esika... I won't let this go."

Thinking of Esika, Yuri's eyes gleamed with venom. That stupid girl was running around like she'd eaten something wrong — Yuri would make sure she remembered her place.

Then came a knock. A moment later the door opened, and Lusa, one of the Dowager Duchess's three maids, entered. She was young, shy, and easily intimidated.

"Are you all right, Head Lady-in-Waiting?"

"Does this look all right to you?"

Yuri snapped at the maid for no good reason. These days, the things happening to her were more than she could bear without lashing out.

"I... it's about the Dowager Duchess."

Yuri, who had been raising her eyebrow, flinched slightly at those words. The Dowager Duchess had done this to her leg, but Yuri couldn't bring herself to hate her. She was Kalian's birth mother, after all. No matter how she seduced Kalian, if she couldn't win the Dowager Duchess's favor, taking Esika's place would remain a distant prospect.

"...Did she say she was sorry?"

Yuri asked the maid, a hint of hope in her eyes. After all, she had always stolen Esika's jewels and offered them up to the Dowager Duchess. The woman had favored her enough to appoint her Head Lady-in-Waiting — perhaps she felt some remorse for beating her so severely.

But Yuri's hopes were immediately dashed.

"No. She said she's found a suitable marriage match for you..."

The maid pulled a crumpled paper from her skirts. Yuri's brow twisted hideously. The maid approached and began to read from the three crumpled sheets.

"First, the leading candidate is the son of a well-known butcher in the shopping district. If you marry him you'll have plenty of work, but at least you'll never go hungry."

Envy filled the maid's eyes. To a commoner like her, it was quite a good match. But Yuri, who possessed even the faintest trace of a noble surname, felt her mind go blank.

"And... the second candidate is a farmer who supplies wheat to House Klaus. He's fifteen years older than you, Head Lady-in-Waiting, and he has two children. He had a wife, but she died of a plague last year. He's on the older side, but..."

"...Ha."

Yuri's face flushed red, then pale, then red again. The man of her dreams was the Duke of Klaus. As if commoners could ever catch her eye.

"The third candidate is a clerk in the government office. His wages are modest, so the wife would need to take in sewing, but..."

"Enough!"

Yuri bellowed, and the maid flinched, shrinking back. She stared at Yuri with bewildered eyes. As a maid, she couldn't begin to understand why Yuri was so angry. She had no idea how highly Yuri thought of herself.

She's throwing men of that caliber at me? Esika... even that stupid Esika married the Duke of Klaus, and I get nothing but...

"Get out!"

Yuri roared at the maid. Her eyes were overflowing with rage, venom, and jealousy.