Come and Cry at My Funeral - Chapter 90

Perhaps she hadn’t remembered because she was always with Electra in her past life?

Not only the marquis and the marchioness, but also their eldest son whom she was meeting properly for the first time, and Albireo Deneb, were heading towards them.

Meanwhile, Izar had perhaps guessed that these people would come.

‘That wretch is crazy about her.’

As soon as he saw Albireo’s face, his already low mood plunged to its darkest depths.

Lacking a proper target for courtly romance, why did he keep shining those furious eyes every time he saw the shepherdess?

At least the minimal decency to greet those to whom he owed a favor was holding him back.

“May Adamant’s blessing be with you, Marquis and Marchioness Deneb.”

Albireo also scoffed inwardly without being intimidated by Izar.

‘Oh, this guy really has such a filthy temper.’

The icy chill he exuded was enough to worry that the petite lady might wilt under it.

Hidden by the murderous intent swirling around her, she was as dazzling as if gathered from the golden light of the full moon.

And it was annoyingly frustrating.

‘I noticed her first, after all.’

A little polish, and the duchess would be striking enough for others to notice. He had even thought she might be a mis-summoned spirit in the castle.

‘Just as I expected, she’s that beautiful…’

But no matter how much she tried to stay composed, her tiny lips tensed up in nervousness. Judging by her situation, this seemed to be her first visit to such a grand noble gathering.

‘Would it be better if I was the one who’d hold her hand?’

Albireo suppressed his conflicted feelings and managed a smiling face just for the sake of greeting.

‘Beside this dirtbag of a husband, always so insufferably. I’ve known since the raspberry incident.’

But when Freesia approached, Albireo genuinely smiled brightly, hoping that at least someone would genuinely be glad to see her.

“Madam, it has been a while. Have you been well?”

“May God’s blessing be upon you too, sir. Thank you for your concern.”

“I had been hoping that during your stay here, there will be another chance to meet Your Graces. Perhaps, a visit to the Magic Academy?”

“…Ah.”

“How about both of you visiting together?”

Freesia glanced up at Izar slightly. His face was impassively expressionless, but the slight bulging of a tendon in his jaw suggested he was not keen on the topic.

Freesia had no choice but to smile calmly and give a noncommittal response.

“I too await a favorable day from Adamant.”

In this case, however, it was not God, but her husband’s temper that would decide.

And above Freesia’s head, the two men exchanged glances that sparked a silent battle.

‘Not a tail-wagger but a mouthy cur…’

‘What are you going to do about it if you don’t like it? You’re coming anyway.’

However, both Izar and Albireo, when they looked around the banquet hall, had a similar thought.

‘…? What’s this?’

‘Strange. I’ve been here a few times before, but this time it’s unusually…?’

Compared to previous years, there definitely seemed to be more men lurking about the Antares estate, occasionally casting furtive glances with sinister eyes…

* * *

It was not a misperception that there was an unusually high presence of men in the mansion this year.

To put it precisely, those who would normally be in the back rooms or entertainment areas were gathered in the banquet hall.

‘Oh… now that the bridal veil is off, that’s what she looks like?’

‘Hmm. A bit different than I thought.’

Rumors about the ‘bastard noble daughter of Antares’ had been rife since the wedding.

Sometimes covered in soot and grass stains, at best dressed in an old cotton dress with barely a corset on—a discarded woman. At other times, a seductive siren who had tempted a comet.

Though opinions about ‘Duchess Arcturus’ varied, there was one common expectation.

That she was without a doubt vulgar.

However…

‘Hmm… less of a siren, more decent than expected.’

Compared to the debauchery typical of nobility, she seemed less tainted, and while her shoulders were bare and slender, there was a definite curve below. The thinness of her waist was strangely drying to the mouth.

It was surely due to the stark contrast to her husband’s large build.

‘Did she really sleep with that giant of a man?’

What would her face look like, struggling and writhing beneath that massive body?

Caught up early in such vulgar fantasies, those inebriated by the thought felt a stiffness in their backs.

‘Maybe, while the Duke is distracted today, there might even be a chance to catch a glimpse of that expression?’