The Ugly Wife of the Shady Duke - Chapter 117.1

‘The original Grace knew, too.’

Though her notes ended very early and only this much evidence remained, she had known.

Here, the ‘you’ referred to herself. The snowdrop had been drawn near the dates of her visits to the Temple.

In other words, Grace had been gifted death by the Temple. It meant she had slowly felt herself dying.

Grace felt a chill as she rubbed her neck.

‘What if—unlike the original story—Grace died first, and I took over her body…?’

What if there was no way to return that soul, and in order to force the world back onto the original path, it had summoned another soul instead?

Even as she formed the hypothesis, goosebumps rose all over her body. It was too horrifying.

“I don’t want that…!”

She already knew she could act differently. If so, wasn’t it possible to reach a different ending as well? Even if she later told Benjamin that she wasn’t the original Grace, she didn’t want to die meaninglessly here, too.

‘I have to uncover it. How they intended to kill her, why they wanted her dead—and if she was already killed, the proof of it.’

Fear clutched at her ankles, but when she realized that the original Grace had known the truth and had slowly died anyway, sorrow overtook fear.

It reminded her of her previous life.

There had been almost no one who truly welcomed her continuing to live, and in her final moments she had spent her time alone in a hospital room.

Perhaps there had even been family members who wished for her death. Thinking that Grace, the Duchess of Felton, might have been the same made her feel an unsettling sense of kinship.

It wasn’t pity.

What could be more miserable than knowing someone wants you dead, yet being utterly powerless to stop it?

And yet, even with people around her who loved her, Grace had still been unable to do anything. She was forced to leave the world in vain.

‘Did the Benjamin of the original story notice something strange after seeing these records?’

If it was Benjamin—who had memorized every flower’s name and trait for Grace—he might have noticed the differences in the drawings, just as she had.

‘…That’s possible.’

The truth behind her death, discovered only while sorting through her belongings. And the direction his anger took afterward.

But Grace couldn’t tell Benjamin the truth yet.

‘It’s too early. The Temple isn’t acting alone and if they’ve joined hands with the Magic Tools Association, where Benjamin holds influence, I don’t know why.’

Grace didn’t know why the Magic Tools Association would cooperate with the Temple. Most of what she knew about the Association came from the original story.

‘Or maybe they didn’t join forces at all, and it’s just a coincidence?’

What if the ominous aura clinging to the furniture sent by the Association was merely incidental and only the Temple knew and exploited it?

Grace tilted her head.

‘More importantly… why is Benjamin getting furniture from the Magic Tools Association in the first place?’

Suddenly, something felt off.

“Why would the Magic Tools Association make furniture at all?”

‘They’re not a furniture workshop.’

The furniture produced by the Association didn’t even have magical properties. It was entirely ordinary.

‘Is there some other difference?’

There had to be a reason Benjamin insisted on sourcing furniture from the Association, especially for the Felton estate.

Something rare, perhaps. Something money alone couldn’t buy.

“I’ll have to ask him directly.”

⋆★⋆

Coincidentally, they had plans that evening.

Perhaps because he was looking forward to it as well, Benjamin arrived on time for dinner.

The meal was light and simple, clearly chosen with Grace in mind.

‘It’s good.’

“Is it to your taste?”

“Yes—very much so.”

“That’s a relief. I told them to be especially attentive, since I’d be dining with you.”

Grace ate slowly, genuinely enjoying the meal, while carefully judging when to bring it up.

If she asked too abruptly, he might think, Why all of a sudden?

‘His reactions to memories of the past have been bothering me, too. I can’t just blurt it out.’

She wasn’t sure how to deal with a man who clearly loved her, yet seemed to be hiding many things.

‘If I ask him directly, he won’t lie—but he’ll probably dodge the question.’

Lost in thought, Grace poked at her roast beef with her fork, absentmindedly. Benjamin noticed her unusual behavior and spoke first.

“Wife, is something troubling you?”

“Huh? Ah—yes, um…”

She’d almost said no out of habit, but stopped herself and nodded.

“Do you remember attending Young Marchioness Charles’s baby shower last time?”

“Yes. Didn’t you enjoy yourself? You mentioned it again when choosing your dress.”

‘Right… I did.’

Grace continued, recalling the day.

“The venue was so beautiful that I asked afterward—and apparently the Young Marchioness herself oversaw everything. I thought it was impressive, considering how far along she was. But since she was the host, I suppose it made sense.”