Chapter 2 - The Relationship Between the Earl and His Wife (1/2)

Translator: Blushy

Editor: delishnoodles

The relationship between the Earl and his wife has gone completely cold because of his wife, she hated her husband for some reason, even though everyone was envious that she had such a good husband, she got herself a lover in less than half a year of their marriage, spent a lot of money, and does whatever she wanted while ignoring her husband’s warnings.

She was such a bad wife that many people in the upper class frowned at the mere mention of her name, so it was natural that he sought comfort in his blind cousin, and many people felt sorry for him.

They said, “He should just divorce her.”

Earl Rosenstein is a wealthy man.

They also wanted a part of his fortune, so if possible, women wanted to become his second wife, or marry their daughter or relative to him.

And those rumours were also true.

In fact, the couple’s relationship was so cold that they didn’t even talk on a daily basis, and the wife did whatever she wanted without getting her husband involved.

She goes out every day, spends a lot of money, goes to gambling dens, and treats the servants poorly.

She still showed no signs of changing her behaviour despite her husband’s repeated warnings and her reputation reaching rock bottom.

It was only natural for people to laugh at her, saying that she was a dumb, brainless woman who was heading for her own destruction.

However, there was one thing ――― one thing that was different from what the people are saying.

She doesn’t hate her husband.

Rather, it was the opposite.

The Countess Rosenstein ――― I love my husband.

I love him more than anyone and anything.

I love whim with all my heart, so much so that I would be willing to give everything I have to him and become unhappy in exchange for his happiness.

I will not stop behaving foolishly even when people ridicule me to make my husband happy.

◊♦◊♦◊♦◊

Every time I look in a mirror, I wonder what it means to be beautiful.

My mother was beautiful.

That was why men flirted with her nearly every day.

She looked really worn out just before she died, but for me, she was the most beautiful woman in the world.

When I blink, the woman in the mirror blinks in the same way.

When I tilt my head, she also tilts her head. Her black hair, which had just been tied up, swayed and her blue eyes stared back at me.

I certainly inherited mother’s features.

But I wasn’t beautiful.

My mother was gorgeous, but I, who looked like her, wasn’t beautiful at all.

――― What’s different?

What does it mean to be beautiful?

How does someone judge this?

I was disgusted with staring at the gloomy woman in the mirror and turned away.

There was a wasted gorgeous room behind me, and the interior was decorated with items that a rich, young woman would probably like, but looking at it made me feel restless.

To be clear, it wasn’t my cup of tea.

I was the one who had chosen the furniture, wallpaper and curtains, so I couldn’t complain to anyone. But I think I made it too flashy every time I look at it calmly like this.

It is probably because of this design that I wake up every morning feeling like I’m in a room I don’t recognise.

I inhaled the aroma of the sweet roses that filled the room while regretting that there was nothing I could do about it now.

At first, the aroma made my head hurt, but my nose is probably paralysed to this smell now, so I don’t feel uncomfortable anymore.

Humans are adaptable.

I adapt even on the days when I continue to wear my mask, even if people ridicule me or even if they look at me coldly.

“I don’t like it. Do it again.”

I sighed on purpose and glanced at the maid through the mirror.

To be more precise, I glared at her.

It was not a friendly gaze.

The young maid, who was doing my hair, shuddered and stared frighteningly back at the gloomy woman in the mirror.

“Ma-madam…”

Anxiety appeared on her adorable freckles on her face, and her red hair shook above her shoulders.

The maid, ――― Claire, was bewildered, and I knew what she wanted to say, but I deliberately asked coldly, “What?”

That alone caused Claire to shrink back, and she couldn’t say anything else.

But I knew that she wanted to say, “This is the fifth time I’m re-doing your hair. Can you tell me what the heck you don’t like?”

Truthfully, from what I could see, the way Claire did my hair is perfect, and I wanted to applaud her.

Claire is skilful, and she could quickly do any hairdo, even if it were from an old trend or new trend.

I’m envious of how good she was with her hands since I’m clumsy and can’t even embroider.