The Fake Wife of the Strongest Husband Wants to Survive - Chapter 41

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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 41
After all, when she’d been reading the book, she’d focused on the crisis that befell the two main characters—she’d given no thought to the names of the expendable knights who served as mere pawns.
Besides, those minions had never appeared again after Owen was detained, their roles fulfilled.
But she couldn’t very well shake down the entire Knight Order without knowing who the culprit was.
‘There’s only one way. I have to keep Owen from going to the Capital.’
With that resolve, Pesha’s head snapped up.
“You’re attending, then.”
“The Founding Ceremony is still a month away, but since there are preparations to make, I’m planning to depart within the next week. So I’ll be away from the Territory for a while, and I was thinking of leaving Rebecca with you—”
“Do you really have to go?”
Owen’s words stopped short at the sight of her asking anxiously, her eyes darting about.
Pesha seized the moment and began to persuade him.
“Couldn’t you… not go?”
…….
“I think if it’s just an invitation, you don’t necessarily have to attend. The Capital isn’t exactly nearby, and the journey sounds exhausting. Couldn’t you beg off with some excuse—an injury to your leg, perhaps? His Majesty would surely understand.”
Owen fell silent, his lips moving wordlessly as he stared down at his wife with an uneasy expression.
Then he said curtly:
“Why.”
“Pardon?”
Of course, a flat refusal would come first.
Then she’d planned to persuade him by claiming fear of monsters, asking for help with business matters—that sort of thing.
“I asked why you’re telling me not to go.”
But faced with the darkened depths of his black eyes and the sharp planes of his features thrown into deep shadow by the evening light, every excuse she’d prepared evaporated.
‘Is he angry?’
He was already impossibly handsome, but when he deliberately lowered his voice like this, her heart lurched in her chest.
“Well… that is… because…”
Being subjected to such an openly intense gaze from an unreasonably beautiful man was more than she could bear.
‘Any woman married to this man wouldn’t have a heart left to speak of.’
The moment that thought crossed her mind, she realized with a beat too late that the woman currently living with this man was none other than herself.
Though it had been a political marriage and she’d plotted to rush into a divorce and hand him off to Io, the truth remained: she was legally his wife at present.
The moment that fact sank in, heat flooded her cheeks.
For some reason, she felt her temperature rising.
To get past this situation quickly, Pesha blurted out whatever came to mind without thinking it through.
“Well, of course… the, the irrigation ditches! Winter preparations for the irrigation ditches haven’t been finished yet. The business is still getting established, and… and to decide which areas to plant trees in, I need your help. Yes, and also—”
She was rattling off excuses in a rush when Owen’s brow suddenly creased sharply.
“That’s enough.”
The atmosphere had taken a turn for the worse.
“Pardon? You mean you won’t go?”
“No. Though I regret burdening my wife with all the work alone, this invitation is in truth an imperial summons from His Majesty, and I have no right of refusal.”
“Ah…”
Now that she thought about it, that was how it had gone in the original work too.
When his adjutant had grumbled about an emperor who suddenly ordered him here and there, Owen had dismissed the matter with ‘It’ll only become more troublesome if I refuse.’
She didn’t know why his mood had soured all at once, but in any case, he clearly wasn’t going because he wanted to.
If he went to the Capital, he would inevitably fall into a trap.
And if he refused the order, he’d be giving them grounds for complaint.
What was she to do about this?
Stuck between two impossible choices, no clear solution came to mind.
While Pesha sat in conflicted silence, Owen tucked the letter he’d received back into his breast pocket.
If she let Owen go like this, she’d be powerless to stop him from walking into a known disaster.
She was at her wit’s end. Might as well go all in.
“Then—then I’ll go with you!”
“…I beg your pardon?”
“Spousal accompaniment! We’ll go as a couple. It’s not like you’ll only be attending the Military Parade in the Capital—there’ll be all sorts of parties and events to make the rounds of. How could you possibly go alone? Of course we should go together!”
Owen couldn’t refuse an imperial order, and if danger had to be prevented, then she—who knew what was to come—had no choice but to follow.
With that determination, Pesha began insisting stubbornly that she absolutely must go with him.
Owen then asked, looking rather taken aback.
“But I thought your work was pressing?”
“Work can wait. In any case, I’m going too, so you can count on that.”
Before he could say it wouldn’t do, Pesha hurried past him and rushed away.
It was unexpected, but it was the best move she could manage.
Now that it had come to this, there wasn’t a moment to waste in preparing.
* * *
Pesha had prepared for the Founding Ceremony and Military Parade by anticipating countless possibilities and making contingencies well before their departure.
During the week before they set out, she lingered near the Knight Barracks watching for any knights who seemed suspicious, and through Rebecca she’d even obtained the duty roster—her plan was to sift through those with questionable movements and identify the culprits.
Yet all of this had only created a cascade of problems.
The whispers among the knights who noticed Pesha’s suspicious behavior were one of them.
“The Lady’s been circling around our barracks in the strangest way.”
“Is she inspecting the quarters now, do you think?”
“Hey, should I just ask her what’s going on?”
“Never mind. She’ll snap out of it soon enough.”
Beyond the curious stares and barely suppressed jokes of the knights—as if they’d seen every odd sight imaginable—she’d gained nothing. It stung.
The roster contained not a trace of suspicion, and the duty schedule was drawn up without flaw.
She’d examined their gait, their speech, even their family ties, but found nothing remotely amiss.
She finally snapped her small notebook shut.
“Sigh……”
To think she’d come face to face with the Emperor with neither a plan nor a single lead to follow.
That was the truth of it. Pesha had ended up journeying all the way to the Capital.
“Sigh……”
Pesha lifted her eyes from the notebook and watched the scenery roll past beyond the carriage window.
Owen found the carriage uncomfortable and spent most of the journey on horseback, and this time was no different.
The carriage Pesha occupied passed through the main gate of the Imperial Palace and continued inside.
Unlike the crude, weathered stone gates of Count’s Castle, the Imperial Palace’s main entrance was covered in pristine white marble columns and gilded ornaments.
The imperial standard fluttered from the spires, and the guards stationed at the gates breathed with visible solemnity.
In the midst of it all, Pesha felt genuine awe.
“Wow…… the Imperial Palace……”
Owen’s castle was so backward, yet he lived somewhere this grand……
Somehow there was no way to look at it favorably.
Though she was born the daughter of a Duke from the Capital itself, she had never properly explored the imperial halls before—only passed through briefly. So Pesha kept her mouth open, taking in every detail of the palace interior.
“I’ve heard they squeezed some poor soul for the money to build that…… found out about it when they were collecting taxes like vultures. And why’d they coat that one in gold for no reason? It’s so tacky it makes me want to scream.”

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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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