Isn’t Being A Wicked Woman Much Better? - Chapter 203

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Side Story 20
Meanwhile, Duke Simour, having entrusted all guest reception duties to his grown sons, stood motionless on the Outdoor Terrace near the Bride’s Waiting Room.
‘How strange.’
Gazing toward the beautiful Garden where the wedding ceremony would soon take place, he recalled the dream from last night.
‘Why on earth did I have such a dream?’
Recently, Duke Simour had been dreaming of his late wife with unusual frequency.
“She never appeared once before.”
In the dream, he had spoken to her petulantly.
“Lately, I feel as though you’re hovering by my side. I’m not someone who believes in superstitions, yet here I am. Isn’t that strange?”
“I’ve always been beside you. You simply never noticed.”
“….”
“They say the lingering essence of a pure white soul is like flower petals—invisible to the eye, yet fluttering about like a butterfly at your side.”
“…A poem Deborah Simour read to me.”
Duke Simour smiled softly, and his wife smiled back like a blooming flower.
“I’m grateful to that child. She conveyed the words I couldn’t speak to you….”
Yes, it must have been from then. When I began to truly see Deborah Simour again—the one I had pushed away from my heart. When I finally stepped out of that frozen, numb time that had followed my wife’s death.
As Duke Simour lost himself in thought, Marien Simour, who had been leading the way through the winding Rose Garden with a firm grip on his hand, suddenly stopped.
“What’s wrong?”
“This time, both children have found their way properly.”
“Both children?”
“Yes. Our child wandered lost in darkness for such a long time before finding the way….”
Speaking words without clear meaning, she gazed upward into empty space with eyes brimming with tenderness. Where her glistening eyes fell, two luminous spheres hung suspended in the air.
“Now, you take them.”
“Huh? Yes.”
“You must guide them safely out of the maze.”
“What is this?”
“You’ll understand soon. Be careful.”
The moment Duke Simour moved the spheres of light to a sunlit place, as a mother cat would carry her kittens, he awoke from the dream.
‘This is absurd. What kind of ridiculous dream was that?’
Yet it had been far too vivid to be mere fancy. The warm temperature emanating from those two mysterious spheres, his wife’s distinctive manner of speech and habits, even the fragrance she always carried.
‘Could it be…?’
Duke Simour suddenly spoke aloud.
“Enrique.”
“Yes, sir!”
Enrique answered with a sharp, attentive voice. Today, the boy had been entrusted with the important duty of scattering flowers behind the bride and groom during their wedding procession.
“You may well be gaining twin younger siblings.”
“Sir, will you be remarrying?”
Seeing his youngest son frozen in shock at this sudden news, Duke Simour let out a groan and pressed his hand to his forehead.
“What nonsense is that little pebble thinking? I haven’t the strength for such things. I’m speaking of your nephews and nieces.”
“I’m going to have nieces and nephews?”
“Perhaps…?”
Enrique pondered for a moment, then tilted his head in confusion.
“But Father, how did you know my cousin was a twin?”
“Your mother told me.”
“Really? How can Father speak with Mother when she’s in heaven?”
“I can simply… feel it.”
“I want to do that too! Will it work if I train hard in mana sensitivity?”
“No. You only need to know that you are loved by me and your mother.”
“…”
“Very, very much…”
“I… love you too.”
Enrique’s ears flushed crimson as he shyly wrapped his arms around his father’s waist, then slowly turned his head toward the lilac fragrance drifting past his nose.
“Wow…”
Enrique’s eyes sparkled at the sight that entered his vision.
“Sister looks like an angel!”
“Thank you, Enrique.”
“You’re so beautiful.”
The moment Duke Simour’s eyes met those of his daughter in her pristine wedding dress, he felt his throat tighten.
How I wish my wife could see this with me. Or perhaps… she is witnessing this moment even now. I simply failed to notice, lost in my own indifference.
“You are beautiful.”
Duke Simour drew his thin lips upward in a rare, genuine smile as he took his daughter’s hand, ready to deliver her to the handsome groom who had been waiting for Deborah Simour with such longing.
* * *
A refreshing pond, arched colonnades, and gardens overflowing with flowers of every hue—the venue was a perfect embodiment of the fairy-tale wedding setting everyone had once dreamed of.
“The ceremony hall is truly beautiful. It feels as though fairies might appear at any moment.”
“Indeed it does.”
The guests, who had been gazing in awe at the outdoor ceremony venue arranged in the Palace of Roses Garden, all turned their eyes toward Isidore the moment he appeared, as if by some unspoken agreement.
Brilliant golden hair that made even the flowers pale in comparison, ascetic features that contrasted sharply with it, and formal attire that elegantly draped his muscular frame.
True to his reputation as the Empire’s most handsome man, he was flawlessly perfect today as well. One guest even made the foolish remark that his appearance should be preserved as a national treasure.
“…!”
Then, the guests who had been gazing endlessly at his sculpted visage gasped in astonishment, their mouths falling open. The stern, tightly closed lips of Isidore suddenly softened into a deep smile.
An expression that could not hide joy and anticipation. The guests’ eyes naturally followed where Isidore’s gaze fell. Of course, at the end of his line of sight stood Deborah Simour.
From far away, at the end of the long aisle, the princess and Duke Simour, who held her hand, gradually closed the distance between them.
The guests gasped at the sight of Deborah Simour, the other protagonist of the day. They all believed that perhaps only Deborah Simour could maintain her presence beside the sun-like Duke Visconti.
Wearing an ornate tiara over her long veil, Deborah Simour resembled a queen returning in triumph. The unadorned neckline and sleeves accentuated her characteristic noble elegance, and the laurel-shaped necklace around her long neck complemented the dress perfectly.
Yet when one considered that this wedding dress was relatively simple compared to the avant-garde fashions and jewels with which the princess had turned High Society upside down…
“…Good heavens.”
“How long does it go on?”
Everyone fell silent at the sight of the wedding dress train, stretched so long it seemed endless, like a silk serpent.
The lengthy train was densely studded with pearls and diamonds that reflected brilliantly in the sunlight, creating the illusion that the princess was pulling the Milky Way behind her.
The princess’s violet hair, reminiscent of twilight’s gentle glow, made the sight all the more mystical. It was a scene worthy of great admiration from all, yet the guests unconsciously held their breath due to the cool atmosphere emanating from the father and daughter.
“Walk carefully.”
Duke Simour squeezed his daughter’s hand more firmly and whispered, while Deborah Simour barely moved her lips.
“…Yes.”
She was actually straining with all her might not to stumble. The dress was heavier than expected, and with each step came a suffocating pressure.
‘I never imagined that my habit of telling Helen that more jewels on a dress are always better would come back to haunt me like this…’
Helen, now undeniably the Empire’s finest designer, had crafted a dress that perfectly reflected Deborah Simour’s personal taste.
“Thanks to you, Lady Deborah Simour, I’ve grown tremendously as a designer. Congratulations on your marriage.”
Because the weighty dress forced her to walk slowly, the faces of the guests drifted gradually through her vision—members of Epsilon, the noblewomen she’d met during her debut, elders from the Magic Tower, Orix who had become a spear master, Thierry and the Crown Prince… all familiar, beloved faces.
When only three steps remained between her and Isidore, her breath suddenly caught, and she took a short, sharp inhale.
Dressed in formal attire with his hair swept back, he was breathtakingly handsome. Especially that smile with the dimples etched deeply into his cheeks—it was dazzling. Her heart thundered so violently her eardrums ached, and she stood frozen and vacant, struggling to contain it.
In the hushed atmosphere, it was Duke Simour who moved first.
“Please, make her happy.”
“I swear it.”
Then the section where the mages sat stirred. Duke Simour had suddenly drawn Isidore into a light embrace.
“I’ll be watching, son-in-law. I trust actions seen with my eyes far more than oaths spoken with lips.”
“…Yes, Father-in-law.”
Duke Simour patted his back lightly in gentle threat, then stepped away and placed his daughter’s hand upon Isidore’s large palm.
“I bless the path that lies before you both.”
“Thank you, Father.”
Deborah Simour grasped Isidore’s hand firmly. She held his warm, pale hand tightly and gazed at her beloved’s face through the veil.
When she lightly brushed his violet eyelashes that trembled like butterfly wings, his crimson eyes met hers directly. Looking into each other’s eyes like this, it felt as though only the two of them existed in the world.
Deborah felt exactly the same way.
‘We were originally from entirely different worlds.’
The moments she’d spent with Isidore flashed rapidly through her mind. Because all those memories remained beautifully intact, she smiled without thinking.
When Deborah Simour’s lips curved into a long arc, the guests’ eyes widened even further.
The lady was smiling… like that!
It was a radiant smile—utterly unimaginable from her usually cold face.
“I’ll always make you smile.”
Isidore’s eyes grew bashfully narrow as he slowly lifted the veil and pressed his lips repeatedly against her cheek. At his sweet affection, the guest section finally erupted in thunderous cheers and applause.
“Duke Visconti, shouldn’t you control that smile of yours?”
“Or it might get caught on my ears.”
Unbothered by the commotion, he drew out the ring with a deliberate, measured movement that commanded everyone’s attention.
A diamond symbolizing eternity glimmered at his fingertip. And inside the golden band encircling the diamond, his name was delicately engraved, glowing softly.
The ring with his name inscribed slid smoothly onto Deborah Simour’s ring finger, encircling it. She in turn slowly placed her wedding band, engraved with her own name, upon his ring finger.
As they exchanged rings, a sense of peace and fullness filled both their chests to bursting.
‘What is this feeling…?’
Isidore’s heart suddenly surged with a heavy rhythm, and without thinking, he touched his chest.
It was a different emotion from the blind devotion and longing he’d first felt for Deborah—something unfamiliar. If forced to name it, it resembled a sense of mission. A vow to take responsibility for this person for the rest of his life.
It was a sensation carrying weighty substance, yet Isidore found it neither burdensome nor unpleasant. Rather, it felt welcome and joyous. Like a buoy that had drifted across a dark, vast sea had finally taken root firmly on solid ground.
Then Deborah whispered something into Isidore’s ear. His cheeks and earlobes flushed crimson in an instant.
“What on earth did she say to him…?”
Leaving the guests’ bewilderment in their wake, the two parted their lips softly and began moving forward, gazing in the same direction. From this moment on, they were no longer lovers but husband and wife. Always looking toward the same horizon.
They would stand by each other’s side in the closest proximity, share joy and sorrow, loneliness and comfort, and forge new bonds together.
“Isidore, you are the only person who gives me faith in happiness.”
Isidore tightened his grip on their joined hands, recalling Deborah Simour’s words.
As if blessing their future, the May sunlight shone brilliantly.
Side Story Complete

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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