The Fake Wife of the Strongest Husband Wants to Survive - Chapter 35

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

Episode 35
The soldier started at Owen’s sudden appearance and quickly straightened his posture.
“Good day, my lord. I was consulting with the lady about matters concerning the tree-planting work.”
“What’s there to laugh about?”
“I spoke foolishly, my lord. My apologies.”
“If you need additional hands or assistance, tell me.”
“It’s just…… we’ve run short on compost for planting the shrubs.”
“You can gather compost, can’t you?”
Pesha answered on the soldier’s behalf upon hearing this.
“There aren’t many households raising livestock. He said they’ve already collected the maximum amount they have. But buying compost from other territories is difficult to transport, and it feels wasteful of the budget.”
It wouldn’t be hard to procure from neighboring lands, but Owen understood the hesitation—compost accumulated naturally over time, and it felt wasteful to spend coin acquiring what should come free.
Owen watched Pesha’s troubled expression for a moment, then spoke.
“Then send someone to the local brewery.”
“The brewery?”
“Back with the Mercenary Group…… I once heard from a fellow who’d come from farming stock. He said he was disgusted by animal manure, so he’d make fertilizer from the spent grain and herb-mixed weeds left over after brewing beer, and he’d farm with that.”
Pesha’s eyes went wide.
“Really? Does that actually work?”
“It would take more time to prepare than animal manure, but didn’t you say you were already looking at about a year’s timeline?”
“That’s right. The shrubs just need to be able to protect the Purification Plants’ growth.”
“Then there’s no problem.”
Having found a solution on the spot, Pesha could not contain her joy and seized Owen’s hand without thinking.
“Thank you! I never would have thought of it…… with your help, things should go much more smoothly!”
While Pesha began chattering excitedly, Owen went rigid, his hand caught in hers, unable to move.
Her small, pale hand was so delicate it seemed it would crumble if grasped too tightly, yet that very delicacy left Owen powerless to resist wherever she led.
Pesha showed no sign of releasing his hand, pulling him away from where they stood as she spoke with passionate animation.
“The brewery compost should be spread widely across this area. The shrub canopy will be nice and broad, perfect for shade, and also…… oh! Did you see those newly planted trees near the Valley? The running water there would be excellent for seedling growth, and…….”
In her excitement, still holding Owen’s hand, she crossed the edge of the grass and caught her toe on a protruding stone.
“Ah!”
As she stumbled, Owen reflexively seized her arm.
In that brief instant, her body lost balance and fell directly into Owen’s chest, caught in his embrace.
As though she had nestled perfectly into his arms.
Close enough that their breathing touched.
Both froze, an awkward silence stretching for several seconds.
Owen felt Pesha’s warmth vividly.
Her light frame, warm breath, and those large, bewildered eyes blinking innocently—all of it.
Pesha’s lips parted hastily.
“I’m so sorry……! I tripped on the stone……!”
As she tried to hurry to her feet, Owen reflexively tightened his hold on her waist.
Pesha froze in surprise, and for a moment their eyes met.
“Are you hurt?”
Owen’s voice was lower and heavier than usual, grave and steady.
“I…… I’m fine. Really, I’m not hurt anywhere.”
“Good.”
Only then did he slowly release her.
Yet the warmth of each lingered at their fingertips.
In that quiet, Owen gazed very carefully at her hand once more.
This time, it was he who wanted to take her hand and lead her somewhere.
Pesha, uncomfortable with the tension, cleared her throat and stepped back.
“Anyway…… do make sure to check near the Valley. The conditions are really quite ideal there.”
Owen watched her for a moment, then nodded.
“I’ll look into it.”
She seemed as though she wanted to say something more, but in the end only nodded silently and turned to walk ahead toward where the soldiers had gathered.
Leaving behind only the vivid warmth of the embrace that had held her moments before.
Owen stood still, watching her departing figure for a long time.
The silver hair gleaming in the sunlight, the quick, light steps, and that careless indifference with which she left him behind.
“…… Nothing has changed.”
He murmured as though to himself, and when he lowered his gaze, the sensation lingering in his hand came back to him once more.
Strange as it was, the warmth of where her fingertips had touched had not faded.
* * *
Pesha stood in front of the Fontloy Trading Company Eastern Branch building.
A few days prior, Pesha, having gathered the artisans, requested an audience with Duke Fontloy.
She sent a letter mentioning that she intended to return to the Capital soon and wondered if they might meet to discuss matters — and received an unexpected reply.
As it happened, the Duke had business at the Eastern Branch and proposed they meet there instead.
When she had visited the headquarters in the Capital before, she had been turned away at the entrance and subjected to considerable humiliation; this time was altogether different.
“Countess Namoie has arrived.”
The moment the maid announced her name, the staff hurried to clear a path, and the manager of the Trading Company bowed deeply as he escorted her upstairs.
The reception room she entered was noticeably more elegant than before.
Golden candelabras, walls dyed with expensive pigments, and tasteful furnishings stood as testament to the Trading Company’s long history.
Moments later, the door opened and Duke Fontloy appeared.
“Well, well! Countess Namoie — what a pleasant surprise to see you again.”
His usual intense bearing belied a warm smile as he extended his hand.
Pesha smiled brightly and took it.
“Duke, I’m delighted to see you again as well.”
“It’s been so brief since we parted — I confess I grew concerned when you sought me out so quickly. Nothing urgent, I hope?”
He settled into his chair and took a sip of tea.
“I came hoping to seek your counsel on a business matter.”
Pesha spoke with measured composure.
“Business?”
The Duke’s expression shifted subtly.
The atmosphere, which had seemed a simple reunion between acquaintances, turned grave in an instant.
“If the Countess brings a business proposal, I can hardly help but listen. What is it?”
Rather than answer in words, Pesha gestured to her maid.
The maid approached carefully and placed an elegant silver box upon the table.
As Pesha opened the lid, meticulously arranged sapphires within gleamed with brilliant light.
Sunlight pierced through the window glass, refracted across the gems’ surfaces, and cast crystalline blue radiance, soft golden glimmer, and delicate rose tints throughout the room.
“Ah…”
An admiring murmur escaped the Duke’s lips.
“Sapphires.”
Yet beneath the admiration lay a faint note of disappointment.
“To be frank, I half-expected you to bring another marvel like that Siddroca Medicine.”
He laughed, a touch of deflation in his voice.
“Once that medicine went to market, the Capital was ablaze with talk of it — earned a full year’s profits for the Trading Company in less than a month. The apothecaries were practically fighting over supply contracts. But I’m sure you can imagine how successful it’s been.”
“That’s all thanks to your acumen, Duke.”
At first, even Miss Clark the Marquis’s daughter was so skeptical of the medicine’s efficacy that I thought we were done for. But watching those vials fly off the shelves despite our refund policy — well, it became clear her objections were mere jealousy. Quite rash and prejudiced, that girl.”
Having said so much, Duke Fontloy paused, then cast a sidelong glance at the sapphires Pesha had brought.
“So I wish to trust that the Countess’s judgment remains sound. And yet… sapphires. Surely it won’t be so difficult?”

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