The Fake Wife of the Strongest Husband Wants to Survive - Chapter 52

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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 52
Edrick, the Grand Duke and Pesha’s husband, had been the Emperor’s most formidable successor candidate.
Had the Emperor not intervened, the Grand Duke would have lived to check the Emperor’s power effectively.
But Edrick, the Grand Duke of Collins, had been assassinated by the Emperor’s hand.
The grieving Grand Duchess likewise departed the Capital quietly after her husband’s death, and the Emperor, emboldened all the more, wielded his power recklessly.
Suddenly, her mind grew complicated.
‘What if the Grand Duke didn’t have to die…?’
Pesha knew precisely how the Grand Duke fell to assassination.
The Emperor had set a clever trap to bring the Grand Duke to his end, and with his death, shadow had begun to fall across the Empire.
‘What if I could stop this?’
Knowing the original story as she did, changing the future was not impossible.
Just as she had twisted Owen’s fate, preventing the Grand Duke’s death might be within reach.
Of course, there was no pressing reason why she should save the Grand Duke, but if the couple could serve as insurance, that changed everything.
‘I haven’t quarreled with Owen yet, but my relations with Io have soured—who knows what lies ahead? If I owe a debt to the Grand Duke, might I not call upon his aid in the future?’
Insurance was never something you could have too much of.
“Hmm. Not a bad idea at all.”
After mulling it over, Pesha retrieved fresh stationery and dashed off a brief reply.
She thanked them for the invitation and expressed her sincere hope to attend, should circumstances permit.
“Besides, I’ll have a better sense of her once I meet the Grand Duchess in person.”
Pesha smiled softly as she finished the letter in her neat hand.
Several days passed.
In that time, invitations poured in from tea parties, salons, and gatherings of every conceivable sort.
Though attending them all and showing her face would have been no bad thing, she could not afford to give the impression that Owen was gallivanting about the city—not when the Emperor had summoned him for the Military Parade.
So she politely declined most invitations with suitable excuses and confirmed her attendance at only one: the Grand Duchess’s charity gathering.
* * *
The evening of the charity gathering.
Pesha rose from the Toilet Room, having just finished her preparations.
With her lustrous silver hair draped over one shoulder and a gleaming Purple Gem Pin matching her eyes secured in place, she appeared more refined and elegant than ever.
Today’s masterstroke was a special necklace crafted from an emerald of abyssal depth.
A jewel so rare that even gemsmith’s rarely glimpsed it in a lifetime.
She had sent the mysterious green beryl—which glowed with spring-like radiance when caught by light—ahead to the Grand Duchess Liviana.
Madame Beluci, the very one who had arranged Pesha’s inclusion on the charity gathering’s guest list, had relayed that the Grand Duchess had gladly accepted the necklace as a gift.
Whether she would wear it to the party, however, remained uncertain.
Yet Pesha was hardly troubled by this.
‘If the Grand Duchess wears the necklace, all the better—but even if she doesn’t, I stand to lose nothing.’
While she had used the jewel as a way to open conversation with Liviana, the truth was that Pesha had every confidence she could capture the Grand Duchess’s interest without it.
At last, the carriage bound for the Grand Duke’s Residence arrived.
Owen, her invited partner for the evening, displayed his striking features as always—his broad, exposed forehead, his prominent brow bones, his high, well-defined nose marking him as anything but ordinary.
“Is there something on my face?”
Owen asked with a puzzled expression, having noticed her staring at him intently without realizing it.
Pesha started, shaking her head with a laugh.
“Oh, just a strand of hair falling down.”
As she made the motion to brush it aside, Owen suddenly bent at the waist, bringing his eyes level with hers.
“I…?”
“I don’t see any.”
“What?”
“Will you brush it back for me?”
With attendants and servants all around, she could not fathom why he would ask her specifically to fix his hair.
Her face flushed crimson without understanding, and she made a few awkward motions toward his bangs—which had not actually fallen—before hastily withdrawing her hand.
“T-there. All done now.”
The moment her hand fell away, Pesha stepped back hurriedly, and Owen straightened, a faint smile crossing his lips.
“Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it. It was nothing…”
Yet her heart hammered for something that should have been trivial.
‘Why am I like this?’
It made it seem as though she were actually conscious of Owen!
Grumbling to herself, Pesha boarded the carriage and stole glances at Owen out of the corner of her eye for the entire journey to the Grand Duke’s Residence, all the while pretending to gaze out the window.
‘No, it makes sense to be aware. I was right in front of that face…’
With that thought, she managed to calm her racing pulse.
As they arrived at the Grand Duke’s Residence, a liveried footman opened the door with formal courtesy.
Pesha took Owen’s escorting hand and lifted the hem of her dress slightly as she stepped forward.
The moment her toes touched the carpet, the nobles around her began to murmur as they recognized the newcomer.
“My goodness, is that the Countess of House Namoi? The woman who’s been the talk of the Capital lately.”
“That’s right. I heard she made a fortune in the jewelry business.”
Feeling the weight of their gazes upon her, Pesha answered with an easy smile.
The ballroom was already packed with the Capital’s nobility and distinguished figures.
Ornate chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, casting their elegant light and reflecting the colors of countless jewels scattered throughout.
Pesha moved slowly through the room, observing the crowd around her.
Some faces were familiar; others were strangers.
Then a thin voice from across the room drew her attention naturally toward its source.
“My birthstone? Oh, well……”
It was Io.
Io wore a yellow muslin dress and adorned her neck and ears with fine Sapphire Jewelry, making no effort to conceal that she was the youngest daughter of the Empire’s foremost merchant house.
“I’ve heard that lately people read fortunes by birthstones and check compatibility through them. If you haven’t learned yours yet, shall I help you find out?”
As one noblewoman chattered excitedly, Io brushed back her long hair lightly and spoke in a bright voice.
“Of course I know this birthstone business is fashionable. But honestly, I think it’s rather……childish.”
“Childish?”
After Io’s remark, a very brief silence fell over the group.
“Oh, I don’t mean you, madam. I mean the trend itself. The idea that a jewel symbolizes your birth month—it feels like merchants playing word games and getting people to dance to their tune.”
The noblewomen around Io, who followed her lead, laughed awkwardly and agreed with her.
Pesha exhaled lightly and watched the scene for a moment.
It was obvious to anyone that Io was indirectly mocking Pesha’s jewelry business.
Some of the nobles shifted uncomfortably and glanced toward Pesha, but given Io’s considerable standing, none of them dared contradict her outright.
“If I’m being frank……such jewels seem to diminish a lady’s dignity. A jewel is simply a jewel. The whole idea of imbuing them with special meaning strikes me as provincial and absurd.”
Pesha regarded her slowly, and the corner of her lips curved upward ever so slightly.
She didn’t know how the Grand Duchess would make her entrance, but if she appeared wearing the Emerald of the Abyss, then it would be Io who looked ridiculous.
With mounting anticipation, she picked up her champagne flute and took a slow sip.
Just then.
A stir began to ripple from the entrance of the ballroom.

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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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