The Fake Wife of the Strongest Husband Wants to Survive - Chapter 49

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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 49
As the judge’s call fell away, the two riders spurred their mounts simultaneously, charging toward each other.
Owen’s perfectly balanced posture was that of someone who had entered Jousting tournaments countless times.
The tip of his lance held steady, aimed with precision at Jeremy’s chest.
Jeremy, by contrast, abandoned his facade of ease and let anxiety flood across his face.
He hastily raised his lance into a defensive posture, but his hands were already trembling.
The first collision ended with a sharp metallic ring.
Clang.
As the two lances struck, the crowd gasped in admiration.
From that moment on, a fierce onslaught and clumsy defense continued in turn.
“Well done!”
“Bring the young lord down!”
The common rabble cheering for Owen grated terribly on Jeremy’s nerves.
Convinced that prolonging the bout would leave him at a disadvantage, Jeremy tightened his grip on the lance, abandoned defense, and charged forward.
But Owen slipped past the attack as lightly as wind through leaves and countered with vicious precision.
Frightened by the response, Jeremy’s attacks grew rougher and more desperate.
“Hyaaaaaah!”
He screamed as he thrashed his lance about frantically, but every blow went wide.
Owen, the first to recognize Jeremy’s loss of composure, struck his wrist lightly with the lance tip at the perfect moment.
Jeremy nearly lost his grip and dropped the lance, but quickly regained his seat in alarm.
Yet by then his fraying competence had become plain for all to see, and sighs and whispers rippled through the stands.
“Is he really Raidel’s heir?”
“I heard the young Raidel attends the Academy, famous for Swordsmanship throughout the kingdom. This is quite pathetic.”
“Come now. Holding his own against Owen Namoi is no small feat.”
The final charge began.
Owen wasted no more time.
He raised his lance straight and drove forward with swift, decisive force toward Jeremy.
Jeremy threw up a panicked defense, but Owen’s lance struck his own aside with overwhelming power, and Jeremy, robbed of balance, tumbled from the saddle.
“Ack!”
With a thunderous crash and a cloud of dust, Jeremy hit the ground and gasped in pain, unable to rise.
The stands held their breath for an instant, then erupted in explosive cheers and roars.
“Yaaaaaaah!”
“Namoi wins! A true hero!”
Owen, his expression unchanged, drew his horse to a halt and bowed respectfully toward Jeremy.
Jeremy, clearly injured and groaning in pain, made no move to return the gesture and could only writhe on the ground.
From where the nobles sat came whispers of mockery.
“Isn’t that the son Duke Raidel never stopped boasting about?”
“I heard he had excellent marks at the Academy, but his skill is pathetic.”
At that moment, Pesha glanced around the nearby nobles with a smile.
“Surely you all knew?”
They turned to her with puzzled expressions.
“Jeremy does attend the Academy, famous for Swordsmanship, but he’s been on Leave of Absence for several years now.”
“Leave of Absence?”
“After four years of Leave of Absence, Expulsion follows. And that’s nearly upon him.”
At her words, the nobles’ eyes widened.
“Is that true? Duke Raidel bragged so endlessly about his son being a prodigy that we all assumed he was genuinely talented…”
The whispers spread rapidly, and Pesha merely shrugged and added offhandedly.
“His father dotes on him terribly. Adults tend to exaggerate, you know.”
That much was enough.
This truth would now swell and spread throughout the Capital.
As she turned away from the gossiping nobles, her gaze suddenly met Owen’s.
He was looking at her as if to remind her of the wager that lay between them.
The crowd’s cheers showed no sign of abating.
Pesha laughed, resigned.
Owen was an opponent not to be underestimated, whether in a wager or in combat.
His victory was overwhelming and beyond all dispute.
* * *
The Raidel Estate, emptied of the tournament, was wrapped in a suffocating silence like the calm before a storm.
The moment the great heavy doors opened slowly, Duke Raidel emerged as if he had been waiting all along, striding forward with a savage expression.
Pesha saw her father’s face in the doorway.
His expression was twisted in a peculiar, terrible way.
The Duke’s face, flushed crimson up to his neck, snapped his teeth together the moment he saw her, his words dripping with venom.
“How dare you—how *dare* you bring such shame upon my son?”
His voice trembled with fury, the rage spreading through his entire frame until even his clenched fists shook like aspen leaves in wind.
Jeremy, standing some distance behind the Duke’s shoulders, kept his head bowed and his shoulders hunched, as though caught between shame and the fear of his father’s imminent explosion.
The way he gnawed at his lips resembled a child awaiting punishment.
“Get out of my house this instant! Out of my sight!”
The Duke of Raidel Estate shouted these words and stamped his foot with a thunderous bang.
At that threatening gesture, the servants retreated hastily, exchanging wary glances with one another.
Yet Pesha answered with perfect composure.
“We were planning to leave anyway, so yes, we understand.”
“What did you say?”
“Expecting you to say as much, we’ve already reserved a hotel room for ourselves.”
At this unexpected response, the Duke’s face contorted further.
“This insolent woman dares to—”
“Reasonably speaking, my husband couldn’t possibly lose to Jeremy, could he? Since this outcome was inevitable, I knew you’d be furious, so I had him arrange everything in advance.”
Pesha’s voice was remarkably bright and cheerful.
“Your prized Jeremy has been defeated—surely your heart must be aching? By now, I imagine the sight of us would only vex you further.”
At those words, the Duke of Raidel Estate clutched his chest as though suffocating.
“You wretched creature—!”
As the Duke began to tremble as if on the verge of a fit, Pesha continued with unhurried ease.
“It’s not your fault that your son is lacking—do try not to work yourself into such a state. It’s bad for your health.”
She tilted her head slightly with an artless smile, then gently linked her arm through Owen’s.
Owen, who had been observing the situation in silence until now, stiffened slightly at the contact.
The moment her hand encircled his arm, he seemed scarcely able to maintain his composure.
Jeremy, standing behind the Duke, watched the scene unfold, biting his lip until blood came, his gaze fixed unwaveringly on the floor.
Before stepping through the entryway, Pesha paused briefly, turned back, and added one final remark.
“Well then, the disappointing daughter shall take her leave, so you can enjoy peaceful days with your accomplished son. Father.”
The only sound that pursued the two figures as they departed was the hollow clang of the Duke of Raidel Estate’s cane striking the floor in his fury.

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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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