The Fake Wife of the Strongest Husband Wants to Survive - Chapter 51

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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 51
After stepping outside, she lingered as long as possible—bathing in the prepared water, drying her hair slowly, walking for hours—anything to delay the inevitable.
She tried to calm her racing mind, but it was useless.
The moment the hot water had touched her skin, her heart had steadied slightly; the instant she entered the bedroom, it began hammering again.
Owen had already bathed and changed into comfortable clothes while she’d been stalling, and he sat at one edge of the bed waiting.
His caramel-colored hair was still damp, not yet fully dry, and droplets traced the line of his neck, glinting in the candlelight from the small candle beside the bed.
Pesha found herself staring, transfixed, before she hastily looked away.
‘This is a disaster.’
Tonight, everything about Owen seemed strange and unfamiliar in a way she couldn’t quite name.
Something felt deeply wrong about whatever was coming.
Pesha decided her best strategy was to fall asleep before anything could happen.
‘If I’m asleep, it’ll all be over. Just sleep.’
She extinguished the candle quickly, leaving only the faint moonlight to fill the room.
The silence between them settled, complete and utter.
Pesha tried to ignore the presence of the man lying beside her, carefully positioning herself at the far edge of the bed.
The room was comfortable, the bed was soft, and the blankets were warm.
Everything was perfect for sleep—except her eyes remained wide open.
The world outside was quiet, but her mind had entered a state of emergency, every emotion churning violently.
She’d been startled by the smallest sound of shifting blankets, and now, in that oppressive silence, she forced her eyes shut only to snap them open again.
There was no way she’d fall asleep like this.
Unable to bear it any longer, she spoke softly into the darkness.
“Are you…… asleep?”
Owen answered tersely.
“No.”
Now that she’d spoken and received his reply, she had no idea what to say next, and she hesitated.
Then, remembering something that had happened earlier, she spoke without thinking.
“The Jousting Tournament—I didn’t expect you to win so easily.”
“Is that so.”
“Yes. Jeremy was very confident, and I was actually worried about it.”
Owen listened quietly, and Pesha continued, speaking a little more softly.
“You accepted his rude challenge because of me, didn’t you? You didn’t have to do that…… thank you.”
Owen said nothing for a moment.
Pesha felt a twinge of regret, wondering if she’d just said something unnecessary.
Then Owen let out a small, breathless laugh.
The darkness was too complete to see his expression, but somehow she felt she knew what his face looked like in that moment.
“It was nothing remarkable. I simply did what you wished.”
“Still…… you didn’t have to go to such trouble. So why do you always…… treat me so well?”
“Well?”
She’d been puzzled by this for some time now.
From rumors of his lost commission because of her, to the way women like Jane stood against her so pointedly while Owen had been accommodating to her wishes from the very start—cooperating without hesitation.
“Even at Swap, when you dismissed the butler, you didn’t press me about it and trusted me. When I brought in the Icebergflower, you even comforted me instead…… and bringing Jeremy to heel—that wasn’t just because you realized my relationship with Father and Jeremy was strained, was it?”
“…….”
Silence fell between them.
Now that she’d laid it all out, it sounded as though she was implying he must be in love with her, and she found it nearly unbearable.
She was considering whether she should flee the room again when Owen spoke.
“I made a judgment appropriate to each situation.”
Was that so?
Or had he simply pitied the young wife who’d been abandoned by her father and sold into marriage?
Had she alone gotten excited and started assuming things?
She’d already said too much; she needed to salvage this.
Pesha quickly assured him she’d never misunderstood anything, and redirected by complimenting him instead, bringing the conversation to a close.
“I don’t think it was necessarily for my sake, but…… somehow you seem much more human and…… kind than I’d thought.”
The moment the words left her mouth, Pesha felt her face flush hot, and she quickly added more.
“No, I mean kind in the sense that……—I thought you were terrifying, not that you are actually terrifying, I just expressed it poorly…… I just…….”
As Pesha fumbled and stammered in embarrassment, Owen’s voice came from the darkness.
“Am I kind?”
Pesha grew even more flustered and hurriedly backtracked.
“Kind doesn’t mean anything strange—I just meant thoughtful. I think I overstated it. I’m sorry.”
“That’s a relief.”
Pesha, who had been breaking into a cold sweat trying to take back her words, suddenly paused, unsure she understood what he meant.
“Thank goodness…….”
Thank goodness? As if he’d gone to the trouble of being kind to her?
Owen, being kind to her? Why? Hadn’t she seemed to him nothing more than the Emperor’s lackey?
There was no need to look far—even his aide Jane was wary of Pesha for that very reason.
The wicked woman who’d blocked Owen’s path to advancement.
The daughter of a rival faction.
To Owen, Pesha could have meant nothing more than that.
And yet…….
She’d opened her mouth to ask what he meant by thank goodness.
“Why…… is it fortunate?”
Had those words actually left her lips?
Or had she merely murmured them under her breath?
But the long bath had loosened the knots in her shoulders, and drowsiness came flooding in.
Her eyelids grew heavy, and while waiting for his response, her consciousness began to blur at the edges.
“Why…….”
If she waited just a little longer, she would hear his answer.
From the moment the Jousting Tournament began that morning, she’d been on edge—then came the confrontation with her father’s rage, and then sharing a bed with a man who was essentially a stranger. Too many things had happened in a single day.
Sleep came swiftly, dragging Pesha down into unconsciousness.
Just before sleep claimed her, his voice seemed to reach her as though through a dream, impossibly faint.
By the time that thought occurred to her, she had already sunk into deep slumber.
* * *
The Hotel lobby was abuzz from early morning onward.
In a single night, word of Owen’s overwhelming victory against the Raidel Prince at the Jousting Tournament had swept through the Capital’s high society.
The lobby was packed wall-to-wall with onlookers seeking out Pesha and Owen, as well as messengers bearing invitations sent by noble ladies.
Pesha spent the morning filtering out worthless letters from the mountain of invitations that had arrived.
Then came a turn to a letter in an elegant script that caught her eye.
At the foot of the letter was the clearly impressed seal of the Grand Duke’s Estate.
『To the Countess,
In observance of this year’s Founding Day Festival, our Grand Duke’s Estate has arranged a special gathering.
We cordially invite you, Countess, to a distinguished assembly where guests of standing from all walks of life come together in the Capital to raise donations for the welfare of our less fortunate citizens.
Your presence at this meaningful occasion would be the greatest honor.
From Liviana Collins.』
The moment she saw the name at the end of the letter, Pesha’s grip tightened without her realizing it.
‘The Grand Duchess of the Collins House…….’
It was a name she’d heard before in the original work.

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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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