Standard Contract Guidelines for a Fraudulent Marriage - Chapter 29

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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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Chapter 29

“Are you truly certain?”

For a researcher, there is perhaps nothing sweeter than the word “support.”

No matter how modest the gesture, the mere fact that someone believes in one’s work is enough to make a researcher dance.

“Thank you so much, Mrs. Dorothea.”
“I can’t believe Siern didn’t mention such a fascinating detail to me. I’ll have a word with him the next time we meet.”
“The professor still seems rather skeptical of my work, I’m afraid. Though of course, he has been helping me in various ways.”
“What is he researching these days?”
“He’s studying the energy that can be obtained from apple decay—he thinks it might someday serve as fuel for machinery or airships. But since airship development itself is still ongoing, collaboration with other laboratories would seem beneficial. Or so I think, anyway. The professor hasn’t warmed to the idea yet.”
“He’s always been that way—he dislikes meeting scholars unless they work in fields that interest him. It’s mutual aversion, really. Everyone wants to discuss their own ideas, and put two such people in a room, and suddenly they’re rivals rather than colleagues.”

Adelia laughed, but felt a prickle of recognition.

She possessed that same tendency herself… though only in the smallest measure.

Fortunately, memories of Princess Claria had faded from her mind, and her tea gathering with Mrs. Dorothea had proceeded without incident.

Adelia found herself deeply impressed by Mrs. Dorothea’s learning and intellect, and came to see her as someone truly worthy of respect.

***

Princess Claria’s birthday drew within two days.

Roareston had progressed beyond mere anxiety; he had begun to suffer actual headaches.

He even wondered if Princess Claria had slipped something into the tea the last time they met.

“Are you feeling quite unwell, Duke?”
“No, I’m fine.”

Yet his voice and expression both held an edge.

The air around him had taken on a sharpness wholly unlike his usual demeanor—like a knife honed to a lethal point.

“Shall I send for a physician?”
“No. This hardly warrants a doctor’s attention. Has Adelia not arrived yet?”
“Not yet, sir.”
“Wake me when she does.”

As Roareston turned to retire to his chamber, the front door opened.

Adelia appeared, her dress held slightly aloft, moving with such lightness she seemed to float—all evidence of a delightful outing.

“Did you have a pleasant visit?”

Adelia looked up, her expression radiant with genuine cheer.

“Yes, I did.”

The moment Roareston saw that luminous smile, he felt his throbbing headache dissolve as though it had never been.

“Where were you?”
“I’ve felt a bit dizzy. I was about to lie down when you arrived.”
“Dizzy?”

Her eyes widened noticeably, visible even from where she stood on the landing.

Tap-tap-tap.

She climbed the stairs swiftly and pressed her palm to his forehead.

“You’re burning with fever!”
“Am I?”
“Heavens above—you must get to bed at once.”

Adelia supported his arm and guided him to the bedchamber.

Ignoring his protests that it wasn’t necessary, she settled him onto the mattress with careful attention.

“I’m hardly a child, for heaven’s sake.”

Once they were alone, Roareston’s manner relaxed into its natural tone, and he grumbled.

But Adelia paid his complaints no mind.

Instead, she dampened a cloth, laid it across his forehead, and retrieved a thermometer from somewhere, inserting it between his lips.

In moments, she had composed the very picture of a dutiful nurse.

“Your temperature is quite high.”

Adelia studied the thermometer with concentration.

“I suspect you’ve caught a summer cold.”
“A cold, in this season? I’ve always heard only fools catch summer colds.”

Adelia stifled a laugh.

“Then I suppose that makes you quite the fool.”
“Have you quite finished?”
“Oh, don’t be cross. Your fever will only worsen if you upset yourself.”

Roareston pouted, his gaze skating across her face in displeasure.

“You’ve come from Mrs. Dorothea’s and suddenly grown insufferable.”

Adelia, unfazed, pressed on—instructing a servant to bring a chair for the physician and arranging for refreshment once he arrived.

Watching her move through each task without haste, attending to everything with methodical care, Roareston’s expression softened into a genuine smile.

“You’re beginning to carry yourself like a true duchess.”
“After cycling through a hundred different gowns, I suppose I’ve finally awakened to the part.”
“Then let’s take that momentum and attend several more soirées.”
“Must we? Really?”
“We must. Until our divorce is finalized, we need to make regular appearances. Once the divorce draws near—cough!—then we can disappear from society without concern. I could always attend alone, if you prefer.”

Adelia spoke.

“What a meticulously calculated performance.”
“This sort of thing requires precision. Every detail, every step.”

Roareston exhaled with labored breath, his eyes flickering toward Adelia.

His expression did not look pleased.

‘What is wrong?’ she wondered.

He could not have guessed what occupied her mind.

He did not know that the moment the word “divorce” left his lips, her heart had plummeted to her feet and only just managed to crawl back.

Roareston cleared his throat, making a soft clicking sound to redirect her attention.

“Which brings me to my point.”
“Yes?”
“Princess Claria’s birthday celebration is approaching. I believe we must both attend.”

Even as he spoke, his expression remained darkened—not quite ashamed, but lacking in enthusiasm.

He had grown weary of playing along with Claria’s whims.

Yet he believed it the wiser course to protect Adelia.

Adelia’s lips parted slightly, but she said nothing.

Unbidden, the conversation she had shared at Mrs. Dorothea’s returned to her mind. And with it came the image of Claria’s face.

Confusion churned through her thoughts, and her chest grew tight. She could not imagine herself attending that party and smiling through it.

“I have to go to the Research Laboratory that day.”
“The laboratory won’t be operating that day, surely.”
“I have a key of my own. The professor said I’m welcome to conduct experiments whenever I wish.”

At that, Roareston’s expression took on a peculiar rigidity.

She possessed her own key to the laboratory—that was something he did not know.

He had already been troubled by her visits to the Research Laboratory since the last incident.

“It seems you’ve grown rather close to Professor Siern.”

His tone had cooled noticeably, but Adelia, preoccupied with her reluctance to attend the party, failed to notice.

“It’s merely a matter of convenience on his part.”

Her words, seemingly in Siern’s favor, caused Roareston’s smile to fade entirely.

“Are you certain you’re well?”

Attributing his sudden change to his fever, Adelia’s expression grew anxious.

Yes, I mustn’t cause him further distress.

“I’m fine.”
“If anything troubles you, you must tell me at once.”
“I will. But will you remain here?”

Adelia blinked, as though he’d asked something obvious.

“Of course. Who else would nurse you back to health?”

It was strange.

Only moments before, his heart had been restless and sharp, and yet at those words alone, it began to unwind.

His smile returned.

“What makes you behave so dutifully?”
“What makes me? Are you truly asking such a thing?”

Adelia allowed him a sip of weak tea, then arranged cushions behind his back so he might recline in a position least likely to trigger coughing.

Then she withdrew something from the pocket she habitually carried.

“What is that?”

Examining the strange object—a long rod with a small cotton swab affixed to its end—Roareston’s expression turned suspicious.

“I have a small favor to ask of you.”

Suspicious, Roareston thought.

Her expression, her movements, the object in her hand—all of it seemed deeply suspicious.

“What sort of favor? Mind you, I’m a patient. Don’t forget that.”
“Oh, it’s nothing demanding, I promise. Just open your mouth wide for me.”
“Open my mouth? Like th—?”

The instant he tilted his head back and parted his lips, Adelia grasped his chin—gently, but with enough certainty that his surprise left him frozen. Before he could react, something slipped into his mouth.

In that frozen moment, something entered.

“Mmmf—”
“Ah, please don’t speak. Just a moment longer…”

Roareston realized she was rubbing the cotton end against his tonsils and across his tongue in succession.

Now he understood precisely what she was doing.

This girl was collecting a sample of my bacteria under the guise of nursing care!

“There, all done.”

As Adelia deposited the rod into a clean Research Envelope, Roareston spoke with evident displeasure.

“And what exactly do you intend to do with that?”
“Curious, are you?”

Roareston found himself momentarily wondering what would happen if he said no.

But he merely imagined it. In reality, he’d never dare—or she’d refuse to share a meal with him for days.

“Yes. I’m curious.”

The moment Adelia heard those words, she began to pour forth her explanation as though she’d been waiting for permission.

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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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