Rewriting the Trash Ending - Chapter 35

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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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35.

“Why suddenly……?”
How long had they been married, and already he was suggesting separate chambers?
“It should have been arranged this way from the start. I made clear there would be no conjugal obligations, did I not?”
“Are you sincere?”
Axid held his lips firm, falling silent for a moment before he spoke.
“I merely wish to establish clear boundaries between myself and you. There is no reason for us to share a bed and grow attached, is there?”
He spoke as though reciting words prepared long in advance—measured, smooth, rehearsed.
This man, truly.
“If we sleep in separate chambers, what do you think people will say?”
“They will assume it is a consideration for your rest, given how frequently I am away on campaigns and consumed by state affairs day and night.”
With that, Axid shut his mouth with stubborn finality.
…….
Suddenly she remembered the touch of his hand that night—the way it had awkwardly encircled her shoulders.
How carefully he had held her, as though she were fragile glass on the verge of shattering.
How could she not see that, whatever he might feel, he held her dear?
She understood that drawing such a line was his clumsy way of preventing her from growing attached to him—a consideration born of his own loneliness.
There was nothing in it to wound her, nothing to make her feel slighted.
Only that her husband had chosen, once again, to remain alone for her sake—and that knowledge pierced her heart.
“…Very well. I accept your wish.”
He had not expected her agreement to come so readily; his eyes flickered for just a moment.
“But I cannot accept the way you are thinking about this.”
“What do you mean?”
“If sharing a bed troubles you, then let us use separate beds instead. We’ll have a Couch Sofa placed in the bedchamber.”
He asked again, as if seeking confirmation.
“You would not have us divide into separate rooms?”
Lumiere looked up at the man frozen in place.
“Of course not. You promised I would lack for nothing as your Grand Duchess.”
“And what bearing does that have on this matter?”
He seemed bewildered, unable to follow her reasoning.
“Every bit of bearing. If word spreads that we sleep in separate chambers, there will be dozens more waiting to tear us to pieces over it.”
…….
He had clearly not considered that; his dark eyes trembled faintly.
“Very well. I understand.”
Unable to find words to counter her, he chose to yield for now, turning on his heel and departing without another word.
‘I’m truly sorry, but…….’
She could never have accepted separate chambers.
It was not for the sake of preserving the Grand Duchess’s dignity.
If they were to sleep apart and she missed that period when it came for him—if she failed to recognize the signs—then her husband would suffer terribly when it arrived.
That sight…….
She could never forget the image of him convulsing in agony.
Her violet eyes grew distant and hazy, as if reaching back into some far memory.

***

In her past life, Lumiere had not felt gratitude or tenderness toward Axid from the beginning.
In those days when she found no rest, drifting through Grand Duke’s Castle like a buoy on the water.
A wraith too consumed with bitterness toward the world to afford herself the gentleness of caring for another soul.
But one day, then another, and another, and yet another.
Then one year, then two.
As time accumulated and seasons turned, watching him again and again, she found herself growing steadily more attached.
A man who lived in such monotonous simplicity that one couldn’t fathom what purpose his life held.
It was so pitiful that a single cup of liquor late at night was his only solace in living.
Sometimes she would reach toward him with hands that could never truly touch.
Then, one day.
She watched a man who had never fallen ill once descend into the Underground, fevered and disheveled, burning with something unseen.
The Underground, where not a single light shone.
Before the heavy iron door stood Brian, his expression grave.
Brian bound Axid in silence.
Axid submitted without resistance, as though it were the most natural thing in the world, allowing his body to be restrained without protest.
The two of them moved with such practiced ease that they might have repeated this ritual countless times before.
…and Lumiere could not move a single step.
After Axid disappeared behind the door came sounds she could not name.
The terrible noise of vocal cords in distress, the desolate clang of chains scraping iron—fear kept her rooted to that spot for hours afterward.
And why Axid had to endure such a state.
It was only much later that she learned what lay beyond that door and why such sounds emerged from it.
……
Lumiere watched Axid’s retreating figure through the window as he left the main residence without accepting her escort, and released a deep sigh.
They had decided to bring in the Couch Sofa, so she had at least managed to prevent them from sleeping in separate chambers—though she could not say how long this arrangement would hold.
‘Separate chambers……’
If that time were to come while they slept apart, her husband would have to endure those agonizing hours alone once more.
Lumiere could not bear to leave him to it.
When that time arrived, how desperately he thrashed behind those tightly sealed doors she knew all too well.
She knew how ashamed he would be if anyone else witnessed it……
But mere endurance was not enough.
When there was a wife beside him who could bear it all, why should he suffer through it alone?
She owed Axid an apology, but this was a decision she had made when she vowed to stand at his side.
“Your Highness, the documents you requested have been organized. Perhaps you would review them.”
Lumiere accepted the files from Tera.
The revenue and expenditure records of the Grand Duke’s Castle, and the roster of household staff.
Now that the state marriage ceremony had concluded and various celebrations had wound down, it was time to begin examining the household affairs in earnest.

***

A few days prior, an uneasy atmosphere hung over the Moberg Count’s Residence.
A maidservant appeared with a tense expression and spoke to Magda.
“Madam, a visitor has arrived from the Phedro Count’s family.”
“Indeed? Show them in at once—no, wait. Guide them to the greenhouse instead. I shall be there shortly.”
Magda rushed to the mirror to tidy her appearance at the news of the long-awaited guest’s arrival.
How deeply her nerves had worn on her these past few days—the skin beneath her eyes had hollowed and sunk.
In the old days, she would have moved at her leisure whether the guest waited or not, but now she was in no position for such ease.
The day she had fled the Oswalt House and returned home.
Her husband had returned from the Grand Duke’s Castle and assailed her with bitter reproaches.

“What on earth have you been doing!”
“W-what? You’re raising your voice to me?”
“How am I supposed to stay calm! What were you doing out there that the Grand Duke himself has threatened to cut off your stipend!”
“Is that… truly so?”
“Would I have been dragged away at this hour if it weren’t? Go to the Grand Duke at once and beg for his forgiveness!”

Without her, the second son of a humble house would never have ascended to a countship.
All those nights she had waited and worried for him were rendered meaningless by such vitriol.
Her face had burned so hotly as her husband railed at her, his fury shaking the very walls.
But her humiliation did not end there.
The wives of noble families who had fawned and scraped before her all this time were not answering her letters.
She had asked them to lend their aid to mend the misunderstanding with her niece, yet not a single one had responded.
‘Now they mean to distance themselves from me.’
All because of that wretched girl.

“You, for the sake of shaking me alone, mocked not only my husband but even my mother with baseless superstition.”

She recalled those contemptuous eyes and bit her lip.
That this bought concubine, this brood mare, should presume to sit at her niece’s side and lecture her betters was insufferable beyond measure.
‘And now she expects me to apologize? To that mere slip of a girl?’
Magda composed her twisted expression and stepped into the greenhouse.
“You have come. Welcome, madam.”
Belia, savoring her tea, greeted her with a gentle smile.
She sat in her chair as though receiving an inferior, not rising to greet him.
“It’s been a while, Belia.”
Magda settled into the seat across from her, deliberately suppressing the sharp discomfort that prickled at her awareness.
She was the only one who had come to see her.
While the other ladies ignored her letters entirely, Belia alone had made the effort to visit.
“…The Grand Duchess has put me in rather a difficult position.”
“Yes, I heard there was some commotion at the High celebration. You must have been quite distressed.”
Yet something in the way she spoke of it — as though recounting someone else’s troubles — made Magda’s brow tighten.
After all, it had been Belia herself who’d urged her to step forward in the first place.
But now was hardly the moment to settle such scores.
“In any case, it’s nothing serious, but that incident has created a ‘slight’ misunderstanding between me and my nephew. I was hoping your father might be persuaded to help smooth things over…….”
Magda’s eyes grew anxious, prompting for an answer.
“Belia, surely something can be done?”
After a brief silence, Belia kept her gaze fixed on her teacup as she replied.
“You know better than I do, perhaps, but His Grace the Grand Duke isn’t the sort to listen to people like us.”
Her expression was subtly indifferent, yet Magda pressed forward with a fragile glimmer of hope in her voice.
“True enough. But you didn’t come all this way without some scheme in mind, did you?”
If she’d had no plan at all, there would have been no reason for her to appear here.

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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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