The Male Lead Is Going Mad Searching for His Dead Wife, and I’m That Wife - Chapter 13

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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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The male lead goes mad searching for his dead wife, and that wife is me. Chapter 13
That was when it happened.
Knock, knock.
A careful knock sounded at the door.
“Madam, it’s Rita. I’ve brought some tea.”
“Come in.”
The door opened, and Rita entered, a silver tray balanced in her hands. Steam curled up from the herbal tea.
She began to set the teacup down on the table, then froze when her gaze landed on the mountain of items piled high on my bed.
Rita’s eyes trembled as if an earthquake had struck inside them.
“…Madam?”
“Hm?”
I answered absently while wetting the end of my thread with my mouth.
Ugh, why won’t this go through the eye?
“W-what… is all this?”
“Mending work.”
“Mending? Where on earth did all these old clothes come from…?”
“I got them from a dressmaker’s shop outside the castle. They agreed to let me repair them.”
I fastened a shirt button with firm, practiced stitches and replied as if it were nothing. Rita stared at me, her mouth hanging open. Why on earth was she making that face?
“Why… why would you do something like that?”
Rita’s voice wavered.
“For some pocket money.”
I tied off the last button, folded the shirt, and set it aside. Rita gazed at me as though she couldn’t make sense of it at all.
“Pocket money? But I heard His Highness had already assigned you a budget…”
That was true. But nothing in this world came free. The moment I spent that money, I would be indebted to the Ducal House, and that debt could strike me from behind at any time, in any shape.
I had never been one to trust kindness that asked for nothing in return. My life had never once been easy or gentle.
I let my gaze wander for a moment, then answered honestly.
“That money isn’t mine.”
“Excuse me?”
“I didn’t think it would be right to spend the Ducal House’s money.”
I said it matter-of-factly.
“If I spend other people’s money freely and then get thrown out with nothing in my pockets, that would be a problem, wouldn’t it? So I’d better earn my own pocket money.”
“…”
There was nothing here that belonged to me.
“Madam…”
Rita’s voice was thick with tears.
“No one is going to throw you out. Who would ever do that to you?”
“Nobody can see an inch ahead in life. I was cast out of the Imperial Palace overnight. Why would this place be any different?”
I picked up the needle again. Next was a child’s pair of trousers with a hole in it. The poor thing must have played so hard that the knees were torn to shreds.
Rita clutched the tray to her chest and stared at my hands as they mended the old clothes, for a long while.
Her gaze was so heated and aching that I pretended not to notice and lowered my head.
Why was she looking at me like that? Did she need the work?
My fingers hurt. But this pain was the only thing that felt real and safe.
I must not grow accustomed to the position of mistress of this household.
I had to remember that my place here could vanish at any moment. So that I wouldn’t be cast out with nothing in my hands, I did not let go of the needle all night long.
* * *
Rumors travel faster than the wind. Especially in the laundry rooms and kitchens of the busy Grand Duke’s Castle, once a juicy bit of gossip was tossed in, it would catch fire in an instant. The talk about the Grand Duchess was no different.
“Hey, did you hear that?”
“What?”
“Her Ladyship is apparently taking in work from the village.”
“Work? What kind of work?”
“Piecework sewing! Can you believe it? She’s supposedly gotten mending jobs for old clothes from a dressmaker’s shop!”
The maids’ whispers finally reached the ears of the Head Maid around lunchtime.
The Head Maid, in the middle of her meal, stopped her spoon.
“Who’s doing what, now?”
“Oh, Head Maid. Well… apparently the Madam brought back a whole bundle of old clothes from the dressmaker’s shop in town. They say she even haggled over a few coins per shirt…”
“What nonsense!”
The Head Maid cut her off sharply. She was the Grand Duchess, after all. Though she had been treated coldly at first, it was no longer quite that bad.
Besides, the budget allotted to her was generous, considering the wartime situation. Would a woman like that really stitch up other people’s old clothes for a handful of coins?
“Stop spreading baseless rumors and get back to your work.”
The Head Maid scolded the maids harshly, yet a faint unease lingered in a corner of her heart. There had been reports that the light in the Madam’s room never went out until dawn.
On top of that, Anne had recently told her something unexpected.
On the day it suddenly began to pour, the Duchess had apparently rushed to the Laundry Area herself and gathered the servants’ laundry as well.
Ever since she heard that story, the Head Maid had been unable to shake her unease.
They had turned their backs on the Duchess, yet she had never hesitated to extend a hand whenever the servants found themselves in trouble.
‘…I need to see for myself.’
The Head Maid made her way to the third floor.
She took a steadying breath and knocked carefully, but no answer came.
‘Has she already gone to sleep?’
She hesitated for a moment, then quietly turned the doorknob. She knew it was improper, but she could not simply turn around without checking.
The door swung open, and the scene inside came into view.
The Head Maid froze where she stood.
“….”
By the window, where the afternoon sunlight slanted in.
Lisana sat on that elegant velvet chair, her needle moving with mechanical precision.
Shirts and vests she had already mended lay folded neatly on the floor. Beside them, garments still in need of repair were piled high as a mountain. A Duchess’s lavish bedchamber, and clothes waiting to be mended. It was a bizarre incongruity.
“…Your Highness.”
The Head Maid barely managed to call out to her, her voice trembling.
Only then did Lisana sense someone’s presence and lift her head.
“Oh, you’re here?”
She showed no trace of embarrassment. She made no attempt to hide anything, either.
The Head Maid drew closer. Up close, the tips of Lisana’s fingers were red and swollen. The marks of hours spent handling coarse fabric were plain to see.
“This… what on earth is this?”
“Oh, this? I’m mending clothes.”
“I’m not asking because I don’t know that. Why, Your Ladyship, are you doing such menial work with your own hands?”
The Head Maid’s voice rose with agitation.
Lisana stuck her needle into the cushion and answered without a hint of fuss.
“I need some pocket money.”
“Pocket money, you say…?”
The Head Maid was left speechless.
“If you need anything, just take whatever you like. Jewels, gowns, cash! All you have to do is say the word, so why would you…!”
“That’s the Ducal House’s money, isn’t it?”
Lisana cut her off. Her tone was firm, carrying an obstinacy that suggested no words would sway her.
Lisana tilted her head slightly. She had the feeling she’d had this same conversation before. A sense of déjà vu crept in.
“Money belonging to the Ducal House isn’t really mine, after all.”
“The Duchess is the mistress of the Ducal House! It’s as good as your own money!”
“Well, I don’t know about that.”
Lisana snipped a loose thread with a small pair of scissors. The sharp sound seemed to snap the last thread of the Head Maid’s patience.
“You never know how things will turn out, do you? Money never comes without a price. I’m not fulfilling any duty here as the Grand Duchess. Would someone like me really deserve to enjoy the rights that come with it?”
The Head Maid could hardly draw a breath. Lisana was smiling as she spoke, yet there was a barb hidden in her words.
She clung to nothing in this Ducal House. She seemed like someone who could walk away at any moment without a single regret.
Noticing the Head Maid’s face stiffen, Lisana assumed she had been misunderstood and hurriedly added,
“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll keep it discreet. I didn’t take on any work by dropping the Ducal House’s name.”
She smiled brightly.
“I won’t cause the Ducal House any trouble. I promise. Thank you for your concern, but I’m fine, so you needn’t worry so much.”
Trouble.
That word cut deep into the Head Maid’s heart.
Here was a woman who drew a line and called the rightful privileges of a mistress of the household ‘someone else’s money,’ and who sewed until her fingers were raw for the sake of a few coins. That was the Duchess.
The Head Maid could say nothing more.

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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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