The Obsessive Male Leads Want to Eat Me Alive - Chapter 33

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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 33
“My ‘son’ has truly fallen head over heels for you.”
“….”
Father and son both making their move at once.
Faced with this unexpected one-plus-one, I stood there dumbfounded.
‘These people must be mad.’
Even so, who in their right mind would propose to a ‘daughter-in-law’ candidate?
The prospective father-in-law before me smiled warmly at me. His smile, with those distinctive dimples, was genuinely beautiful.
I stood silent for a moment before finally opening my mouth.
“…Thank you for thinking so kindly of me, but I must confess I’m rather taken aback.”
“Ah, I suppose you would be.”
He scratched the back of his head somewhat sheepishly, speaking with an embarrassed smile.
“The moment I saw you, my vision went white and my heart began to race—so I went ahead and proposed.”
…Please refrain from making such easily misunderstood statements.
You’ve fallen for me as a daughter-in-law, after all.
“What sort of person is your son?”
Though I had received a proposal as a prospective daughter-in-law, I possessed not a single piece of information about the man who might become my husband—only about my prospective father-in-law.
At this, the handsome man with the dimples flushed crimson and spoke.
“Good heavens, what am I thinking? I haven’t even introduced myself, yet here I am asking you to become my daughter-in-law! How absurd this must seem.”
Do you truly believe that was the problem, sir?
“Allow me to introduce myself first.”
The man placed his hand over his chest and smiled warmly as he spoke.
“My name is Bijeje Winston. I am commonly known as the Marquis of House of Winston.”
‘So he was a marquis.’
A high-ranking nobleman, yet his behavior possessed such an innocent purity that I had failed to notice.
“My son’s name is Kyle. Kyle Winston.”
Kyle Winston. The image his name evoked was that of a man of considerable strength and resolve.
“My son is exceptionally noble and well-mannered.”
How impressive.
“He possesses an intellectual side that loves books, yet he can be quite rough as well. One might say he has a bestial nature?”
Could he possess such contrasting charms?
I pondered, mentally sketching an image of Kyle.
‘Still, it seems your son must be of considerable age.’
In this country, one must be at least seventeen to consider marriage.
Well, of course, Heinrich and Sisrain also think about marriage, but that’s because those two are somewhat…how should I put it. Not in their right minds.
I continued constructing an image of this man called ‘Kyle’ in my mind.
His height around 185 centimeters. Rough and bestial like a wild creature, and dignified―
“Oh, that’s right! Kyle is ten years old this year.”
…Dignified little cub, one might say.
“He’s far younger than I expected!”
I blurted out my honest surprise, then found myself thinking inwardly.
‘So another little one has appeared besides Sisrain and Heinrich!’
I stared at Bijeje with wavering eyes. Father, how remarkably progressive of you to relay a marriage proposal from a ten-year-old.
I’d never seriously considered accepting from the start, but now refusal was the only option.
“Excuse me, Marquis.”
“Oh, and! I haven’t even mentioned what he looks like.”
Bijeje softened his kind gaze and smiled innocently, his face dimpling with Indian-style dimples.
His finger pointed to his own face.
“When my son grows up, he’ll look just like this. He resembles me quite a lot, you see.”
“…!”
Suddenly, becoming a daughter-in-law didn’t seem like such a terrible prospect.
A husband who was a ‘pure-hearted handsome man’—wasn’t that practically a cheat code?
I nearly agreed to become a daughter-in-law, but fortunately, my fierce bakery-owner genes calmed me down.
Besides, I’m still too young to hastily become a daughter-in-law. Twelve is a decent age, but I’m not old enough to have a father-in-law yet.
‘And a ten-year-old certainly isn’t old enough to have a wife.’
He’ll surely like this now and grow tired of it in a few years. At ten years old, he likes something today and something else tomorrow.
“I apologize, Marquis of House of Winston.”
I spoke politely as I watched him offer me the candy flower.
“I haven’t yet decided to choose a marriage partner.”
I expected him to be at least somewhat disappointed, but Bijeje proved to be a far more resolute man than I anticipated.
“Of course not. I didn’t think Anette would be able to decide right away either.”
Bijeje laughed and tapped my nose gently.
“So I’ll go ahead and ‘claim’ you as my future daughter-in-law first.”
Claim me? What do you mean?
His gentle eyes burned with determination as he spoke.
“I will absolutely make you my daughter-in-law.”
“…?!”
Is even the father-in-law in this world obsessed with me?
He placed the candy flower in my arms and, still kneeling on one knee, gently took my hand with utmost care.
“Of course, I don’t intend to burden you. We will simply wait for your choice.”
“‘We will’—you mean….”
Bijeje raised his index finger and answered brightly.
“Ah, my son has already declared he won’t marry anyone but you.”
“…?!”
A ten-year-old is far too extreme!
Good heavens, Kyle seemed to be the most extreme ten-year-old there was.
To declare lifelong celibacy at that age—you should have discouraged him, Father!
Yet Bijeje smiled as softly as castella cake and replied.
“So I readily told him to go ahead.”
“….”
From his father-in-law’s innocent smile, I sensed an unmistakable glimmer of subtle madness.
‘Now I understand who his son takes after.’
However, the fact that a ten-year-old had made such a resolution didn’t particularly trouble me.
As I mentioned earlier, at that age, preferences bubble and shift like boiling porridge—his affections would surely change just as quickly.
But there was something curious about all this.
“Is it possible that your son already knew of me beforehand?”
Deciding to marry based solely on a profile seemed rather odd.
At that, Bijeje smiled warmly with his eyes and replied.
“He’s known about Anette for quite some time now.”
As I suspected. But how does he know me?
‘Kyle…’
I’d never heard that name before. Not a single time.
“If I may ask, Duke, how did your son come to know of me?”
This genuinely puzzled me. He’d apparently fallen for me without my knowledge—embarrassing as it is to say it that way—and wanted to marry me.
“Well, that is…”
Bijeje’s pale green eyes grew secretive, and he gestured for me to lean closer with a subtle wave of his hand.
“Come closer, if you would.”
“Of course.”
My heart quickened.
I leaned in with a mixture of anticipation and nervousness, and a tender voice whispered near my ear.
“That’s a secret, my dear!”
…You’re quite the trickster, aren’t you, Father? Now I’m even more curious.
Bijeje regarded me with careful consideration.
“Why not meet my son directly and ask him yourself?”
“Is your son attending the banquet?”
“Of course he is. When he heard that Anette would be at the Imperial Banquet, he hasn’t slept properly for days. Just like the night before a school outing!”
“Hehe.”
That was rather endearing and charming—I found myself wanting to meet this little boy.
“I’ll go to the Banquet Hall and find Kyle, so why don’t you rest here in the Garden for a while before joining us?”
Bijeje seemed to understand precisely why I had stepped outside into the Garden.
I lowered my brows with a smile at his thoughtful suggestion.
“That sounds wonderful, Duke.”
* * *
‘House of Winston. I think we learned about them in class. The noble house that hunts magical beasts with enchanted firearms.’
In the Forest, we studied the history of major noble families as part of our cultural education. House of Winston was no exception.
I couldn’t quite imagine that gentle father-in-law firing enchanted bullets at demons or magical beasts, but in any case, his was an ancient and storied lineage that even appeared in the founding legends.
If I became entangled with such a house, my peaceful bakery life might become rather difficult.
Lost in thought as I walked, I suddenly became aware that my feet had carried me deep into the Garden.
It was then that I heard ‘that sound.’
“…?”
It was a whisper, but the hoarse voice made every word clear to my ears.
“I have done everything in my power. I have exhausted every possible method. And yet, I could find no solution.”
‘There’s something secretive about that voice and those words. Whoever is speaking doesn’t want to be overheard.’
I instinctively hid behind a tree and peered toward the source of the voice.
There knelt a man with graying hair, an elderly gentleman dressed in a pristine white priest’s vestment.
‘A priest?’
Judging by the black collar around his neck, he was a High Priest.
In response to the High Priest’s words, another voice came from across from him.
“Is that all you have to tell me, High Priest Arthur?”
‘That voice!’
I knew that voice. I had heard it recently. In fact, I had just heard it moments ago.
‘It’s Gerard’s voice. The prince’s voice.’
As I tilted my head slightly, the figure of the man standing before the High Priest came into view.
Long silver-gray hair as beautiful as moonlight, and crimson eyes.
“You said what afflicts me is not a mere illness, but something closer to a ‘curse,’ did you not.”
What? The prince is afflicted with a curse?
Only then did I understand why they were conversing so secretly in this secluded garden.
The prince, who seemed perfect in every way, was cursed with something terrible—of course he would want no one to know.
“That is precisely why you said it must be healed with divine power, not medicine. It was you, Arthur, who said this.”
“I am deeply sorry, Your Highness. Despite our utmost efforts at the Grand Temple, we have found no way to break this ‘curse.'”
“…So even the Grand Temple cannot do it.”
A shadow fell across Gerard’s face.
In that instant, the gleam that crossed his crimson eyes was a complete reversal of the one he had shown when handing jelly to the child at the party.
It was the gaze of a butcher ready to flay the heart from a living body, and a chill ran down my spine.
Obedient to those crimson eyes, the High Priest pressed his forehead to the ground and cried out.
“I beg your forgiveness, Your Highness! However, I have proceeded with the utmost secrecy as you commanded, so you need not worry on that account. I have cast a spell of oblivion upon all the priests who participated in this matter.”
“…”
“Furthermore, I myself shall never breathe a word of this to anyone!”
It was a vow to protect Gerard’s secret.
The High Priest raised his head and spoke with the obedience of a dog.
Gerard listened to that earnest oath with an indifferent expression, his crimson eyes narrowing slightly.
“How old are you this year.”
“…I beg your pardon?”
Caught off guard by the unexpected question, High Priest Arthur seemed momentarily flustered before smiling and answering.
“Yes, Your Highness. I will soon turn seventy. In two days, I will celebrate my grandson’s wedding.”
“You have lived long enough.”
Gerard’s blade cut through the High Priest’s neck in a single motion.

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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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