The Fake Wife of the Strongest Husband Wants to Survive - Chapter 28

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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 28
Things were falling into place far too smoothly.
Though in hindsight, they really had no choice.
Io had a refined, delicate bearing and carried herself with such a gentle air that she practically had a free pass stamped on her forehead as the perfect eldest daughter-in-law.
Owen, aside from his questionable origins, was a man without flaw when judged purely by appearance and accomplishment—so it was hardly strange, even rather convincing, that they’d locked eyes at first meeting.
A precarious pink shimmer must be flowing between them now.
The plan to draw a line of love between her husband and childhood friend might have succeeded almost entirely before it even began.
‘Should I slip away quietly? No, but I haven’t seen her in ages—I should at least say hello to her….’
She was still pondering how to naturally give them time alone together.
“I see.”
Owen neither greeted Io warmly nor offered to introduce himself.
He simply answered with cool indifference, then gently pulled Pesha’s hand.
“There appears to be drink over there. Shall we have a look?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“You mentioned being thirsty earlier.”
“Oh….”
Io’s gaze naturally followed to the hand Pesha held clasped with Owen’s.
‘I mean, he’s married, that’s true. Not that I’m trying to hide it. But revealing it so plainly….’
By any reasonable measure, the moment a woman took a liking to someone only to learn he was her friend’s husband, any further development between them would be impossible.
‘I’ve ruined everything.’
The two should have interacted more before she made her appearance. It seemed she’d orchestrated her entrance far too hastily.
Then, just as Pesha was sinking into that despair, Io suddenly stepped forward and seized the hand Pesha held with Owen.
“Pesha! How long has it been?”
“Oh… it’s been a while, Io.”
“We last met before I left to help with our Territory, didn’t we? That day we had tea together.”
“Right… I suppose so….”
Pesha broke into a cold sweat, her eyes darting uncertainly.
“I nearly jumped out of my skin when I heard you’d gotten married. You never said a word about it!”
That was because it hadn’t been a marriage of her own choosing…..
That Io Clark, the youngest daughter of Duke Clark—one of the wealthiest magnates in the realm and a rare Purification Mage of considerable value—had been designated as the noblewoman to be granted to the war hero Count Namoey was an open secret circulating quietly through noble circles.
But Duke Clark, eager to sell his valuable daughter dearly, had orchestrated backroom dealings; and it was widely known that Duke Raidel, caught holding that explosive parcel, had willingly traded his daughter for a handful of land parcels.
For all the scandal surrounding the marriage, Io simply widened her eyes as though hearing of it for the first time, her face falling into a tragic expression.
Seeing that, all the accumulated misunderstandings dissolved away.
The timing of Io’s dispatch to her family’s Territory had been vague, and rumors had circulated that she’d learned of the Emperor’s matchmaking proposal and fled to the Territory to escape marriage to Count Namoey.
She had even believed such rumors once, and it had wounded her deeply. But now, reunited with Io like this, she could see it had all been lies.
“I’m sorry. Things moved faster than expected, and I didn’t have the chance to tell you.”
“I’m the one who should apologize—I couldn’t attend the ceremony. But how did you end up at this party? Where is Count Namoey?”
“Hmm?”
The Count is standing right across from you.
She was considering whether to say as much when Io continued without waiting for an answer.
“Don’t tell me he didn’t want to come to the party and sent you alone? He ought to have escorted you as your husband. Once married, a man mustn’t leave his wife unattended like this.”
Io repeated the words “husband” and “married woman” several times over, glancing sidelong at Owen.
As though making sure he heard.
It was rather like shouting out someone else’s weakness to capture a man’s attention.
It was probably just her imagination.
Dismissing Io’s curious undertones, Pesha corrected her.
“No, I came with the Count. We were invited by Duke Fontloy.”
“Duke Fontloy invited you?”
Io’s expression grew even stranger.
“Why would he? You two have no connection whatsoever.”
“No personal ties, but we met through business and received an invitation.”
“Business? What business?”
The contract was already finalized, and she was here to promote the potion anyway—there was no reason to keep it secret.
Pesha explained, thinking Io would be even more delighted to hear it.
“I developed a new potion from medicinal herbs. You’ll be amazed when you hear about it—it purifies contaminated….”
Io cut her off there, her tone one of utter exasperation.
“Medicinal herbs? Pesha, don’t tell me you haven’t given up that dirt-playing hobby even after getting married?”
“Dirt-playing?”
“Now that you’re a proper Countess, you should have stopped that childhood nonsense. Shouldn’t you?”
The word “dirt-playing” came so naturally that for a moment Pesha didn’t even register it as an insult.
Pesha retraced her memories.
Io would often gaze at Pesha’s dirt-smudged hands and laugh.
She had said that Pesha was admirable, working so hard toward her dreams.
But was there some other meaning hidden in that smile from back then?
“I must say, it’s rather surprising. When your Academy studies were cancelled, I naturally assumed you’d simply give up.”
Her words had thorns buried in them.
When Jeremy had stolen the study opportunity from her and she’d been despondent, she’d believed Io had truly comforted her—but the sudden thought struck that perhaps it had all been her own delusion.
“Pesha, I’m only saying this for your sake, but if you become too absorbed in such hobbies, people will think you eccentric. You should start caring about how others see you. More importantly, where on earth is your husband?”
Io looked around the inside of the ballroom, asking with concern.
It was then that Owen, who had been observing the situation, snatched Pesha’s hand back from Io and spoke.
“How do you do? I am Owen Namoi, Pesha’s husband.”
Io’s eyes widened.
“Pardon?”
At first, she seemed not to understand his words, and her fine eyebrows creased slightly.
Then she looked back and forth between Pesha and Owen before asking.
“You’re saying you’re Pesha’s… husband?”
“Yes, I am.”
“That can’t be right. I’ve heard Count Namoi is rough and frightening. That he comes from a mercenary background…….”
Io trailed off, unable to finish her sentence.
Owen, neatly groomed as he was, looked far more convincing as a theatrical actor who lived by his face than as some crude, brutish mercenary of mere physical strength.
Reading her thoughts, Owen furrowed his brow and let out a soft laugh.
“I apologize for introducing myself so late and in such an unintentional manner.”
“Ah, yes… So you both came to the party together as partners?”
“Of course. As her husband, I cannot leave a married woman unattended. I came to escort my wife.”
As he said this, Owen naturally wrapped one arm around Pesha’s waist.
Pesha, flustered, looked up at Owen urgently, but he did not release his arm.
‘Why all of a sudden?’
It was just as she was about to pull his arm away, embarrassed to be seen this way by Io.
“What are you doing 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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