The Fake Wife of the Strongest Husband Wants to Survive - Chapter 44

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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 44
Pesha clicked her tongue and observed the unfolding situation.
She’d assumed Owen, offended as he was, would sort things out without her needing to intervene.
But her prediction had fallen flat.
“Would that be acceptable? My wife rarely speaks of her family, so I’ve been quite curious. This is fortunate.”
“Is that so? Perfect timing, then! I’ve been meaning to ask how my daughter’s faring in married life.”
What? They were going to dine together?
Pesha’s jaw dropped as she doubted her own ears.
Duke Raidel smiled warmly and was already reaching to summon a servant.
That moment was her only window.
Pesha stepped directly between them.
“Wait. Since when have you cared about me, Father? You must have other commitments—those should take priority. We’ll be on our way.”
“What? Are you truly going to embarrass your father in front of your husband?”
The whiplash of his casual disregard followed now by paternal concern struck her as so absurd she couldn’t even muster a laugh.
“I’m inviting my son-in-law to dine, and you dare interfere?”
When Duke Raidel’s voice suddenly rose, Owen’s brow creased.
Noticing his discomfort, Duke Raidel cleared his throat and, hastily composing himself, attempted to salvage the moment with Pesha.
“Ahem… If you carry on like that, you’ll shame your father. In any case, if there’s no particular reason to refuse, let’s dine together. I have much I’m curious about. Have the preparations made at once.”
Duke Raidel, having reached his conclusion unilaterally, led the way forward.
Pesha stared after him in disbelief.
Back to that house again?
Duke Raidel’s Estate, where she’d spent her entire childhood confined, was something she’d hoped to be thoroughly rid of—it had never been a place of comfort.
Unpleasant memories threatened to surface, and there was no reason to introduce Owen to a home where she’d never known happiness.
When Pesha didn’t follow Duke Raidel and simply stood there, Owen spoke.
“If you’re uncomfortable, we can decline and leave.”
……
Pesha looked up at Owen.
His comment about how his wife rarely spoke of her family—it sounded far too much like something an actual husband would say.
This man clearly had some business with Duke Raidel, but it would be difficult to explain those complications here.
Pesha considered for a moment, then shook her head.
“No, it’s fine. Let’s go.”
Whatever his hidden agenda, I’ll make him regret extending this invitation.
‘He still thinks I’m that trembling child obedient to his every command. I’ll disabuse him of that notion today.’
Her eyes gleamed with cold resolve.
* * *
The heavy iron gates of Duke Raidel’s Estate swung slowly open.
Along the stretched stone path, the rhythmic clip-clop of the knights’ horses echoed in regular intervals.
Pesha rested her elbow on the carriage window and calmly surveyed the landscape—familiar yet estranged.
‘Not even a year since the wedding, and the time I spent here already feels like a lifetime away.’
Duke Raidel’s Estate, glimpsed now after so long, seemed somehow grander and more ornate than before.
Yet it still didn’t feel like home.
In truth, for Pesha this place had always been more prison than residence.
There was no warmth in returning.
The only consolation was that here, unlike in the Imperial Capital, her every meal and garment wouldn’t be tallied and reported.
Remarkably, that was the sole virtue her childhood home possessed.
The carriage halted before the manor, and the door opened smoothly.
As the two descended, the servants and maids already lined up bowed deeply in unison.
Even as they offered their greetings, they couldn’t help but glance sideways at Owen, exchanging meaningful looks with one another.
Seeing a renowned figure in person was apparently quite the spectacle.
The head butler, at least, maintained his composure and addressed Pesha.
“Welcome back, Miss. The Duke is already waiting in the dining hall.”
“Is he?”
“I shall escort you there.”
“No, don’t bother. It’s not as though this is a stranger’s house. I can find my way. See that the knights have a place to rest instead.”
Pesha cut short his offer curtly and passed the butler, heading toward the dining hall.
As the door to the dining hall on the second floor of the main wing opened, the rich aroma of soup and roasted meat wafted out.
Duke Raidel sat waiting at the far end of a long table draped in white linen, but beside him sat an unwelcome face.
Her younger brother, Jeremy.
The moment she saw him, Pesha’s expression hardened, and she sat without offering a greeting, causing Duke Raidel’s face to stiffen.
But Jeremy smoothed things over by filling his father’s goblet generously with Wine.
“Father! This wine is really excellent today. Let me pour you a glass.”
Duke Raidel, who had been about to protest with a reluctant expression, relented and accepted the cup his son offered him.
He gestured toward Owen as well, offering him a drink.
“Count Namoi, you must be exhausted from your travels. Go ahead and have some—there’s nothing quite like wine to shake off travel fatigue.”
Owen, seated beside Pesha, waved away the servant who was reaching to pour and spoke instead.
“I don’t care much for alcohol, so I’ll take only a little.”
“What? But you’re from a mercenary company—you don’t drink?”
“In the high mountains, I drink only when I need to raise my body temperature.”
Duke Raidel shook his head in wonderment at the answer.
“Then what’s the point of living? Are all swordsmen like that? My eldest son Jeremy is a promising swordsman, but the boy’s a real wine lover.”
At those words, Jeremy’s face brightened—he’d been stealing glances at Owen with barely contained excitement.
Ever since childhood, Jeremy couldn’t hide his thrill whenever he heard of Owen’s exploits.
Whenever the Empire teetered on the brink of crisis, he idolized Owen as if he were a god—the man who’d turned impossible odds into victory time and again.
It wouldn’t be surprising if Jeremy’s influence had played a hand in Duke Raidel’s decision to invite Owen to the estate.
Seizing the opportunity to talk about Jeremy, Duke Raidel made the introductions as well.
“Ah, forgive my late introduction. This is my son Jeremy—a very talented and excellent swordsman. I guarantee you’ll be astonished when you see his skill with a blade.”
At that, Jeremy displayed an ill-fitting modesty.
“Father, please don’t. Count Namoi’s skill is in a league I can’t possibly compare to.”
“Is that so? Won’t you take a look at this boy’s abilities, Count? Your guidance and encouragement would be invaluable to Jeremy.”
“Really? Count Namoi, you’d… teach me?”
“Boy, you’re eager enough. Show the Count what you can do as a swordsman.”
Father and son had reached their conclusion without even waiting for Owen’s consent.
Watching Jeremy—starstruck and flustered in front of his idol, desperate to make a good impression—Owen felt amusement rising unbidden and couldn’t help but open his mouth.
“Father, why is Jeremy a swordsman? When did he ever stop slacking off his training?”
“Slacking off? When did I—”
Jeremy had wanted nothing more than to cut a fine figure before his idol, but Pesha wasn’t about to let him off the hook.
“Exactly. You abandoned your fencing studies halfway through even though Father sent you abroad for training, and now you loaf around doing nothing—how can you call yourself a swordsman? Aren’t you ashamed?”
Just as a flustered Jeremy was about to make an excuse, Duke Raidel bristled first.
“What are you talking about? Jeremy is a talented boy! He’s merely taking a brief rest at the moment. Young men wander and grope about, it’s natural.”
“A leave of absence for three years, and in another six months he’ll be expelled from the Academy, won’t he? I do hope this ‘wandering’ of his reaches its conclusion within that timeframe.”

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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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