Chapter 9

Well, let's kill him...

On the seventh day of marriage, the dark circles under my eyes had disappeared. In place of the dark circles, my eyes had become lifeless, and I had made this resolve.

Yes, if I kill him, everything will be resolved. It’s not difficult. I just need to make it look like an accident and push him down.

The problem is that he has an incredibly sharp intuition and a well-trained body, and he would easily see through my shallow thoughts. But it’s okay!

There are numerous influential people in this world who belong to the underworld! Yes, that’s why it will surely work out.

After all, if he dies, I will inherit all his wealth, and the issue of succession will be handled by his biological father, who is still active. Without being asked, he would produce a child or two in no time!

Then, I can say goodbye to this life of three meals of soup, or rather, food that might as well be livestock feed. One sacrifice for my happiness!

What a wonderful world...

The more I thought about it, the more I had deteriorated over these seven days. I had deteriorated to the extreme.

It’s not something that can be easily endured, being served extremely bad, livestock-grade meals three times a day for seven consecutive days! Well, to be precise, it was six days and one meal.

Now, why am I in such a situation? Of course, it’s all because of that man. Yes, the man who has now become my number two target for murder, my husband, Duke Claude Lindbergh. To make me resolve to this extent in just seven days, he truly is a man of power.

The incident began seven days ago, when I ended up challenging a powerful authority figure due to irresistible circumstances. Indeed, my husband had mentioned that we might get involved in some minor troubles. I had heard him.

But who could have imagined that the trouble would come from within? Why didn’t he tell me that the enemy was hiding inside?

The answer is simple. He knew that if I found out the enemy was inside, I would back out of the marriage. As expected of a duke who stands at the top of the noble power structure. Despite his youth, he understands the game of power very well.

First, the person I should not have made an enemy of was the enemy. This person has absolute authority over household management and the appointment of maids. The maid assigned to me was clearly not motivated.

First, she did nothing. Specifically, she didn’t prepare my morning wash, help me get ready, clean, or do laundry.

Not cleaning is fine, but not doing laundry was a problem. I didn’t want to wear the same undergarments and clothes I had worn all day the next day. Even in the earl’s household, where I was neglected, they at least did that much. Of course, it helped that the butler, who had real power, was on my side.

As a result, I ended up secretly doing the laundry with the maids in the laundry room. The reason I can do such work is that the butler of the Verdigo Earl’s household, concerned about the current state of the household, taught me. So that I could survive even if I was exiled to the commoners. At the time, I never imagined it would come to this. Why would I be doing the work of a maid in a duke’s household? I don’t mean to belittle the work of maids. Washing clothes in cold water in winter roughens your hands and is a difficult task. But, you know, if I have to do this, I’d rather just sleep.

And, sadly, no one recognized me. The maids work in places where people don’t usually see them, and no one knew what I looked like. For some reason, the maids here, to put it bluntly, are all very beautiful. Of course, they are all aware of this, so I was pitied and pampered. They are all good people, unlike the powerful maids.

The worst part was the food. On the first morning and at lunch, thanks to my husband’s presence, the meals were very lavish and delicious. So, I naturally expected the dinner to be the same.

But the moment my husband had to leave for work, everything changed with a loud crash. I was shocked.

The excuse was also outrageous. The waiter made a mistake, so they could only serve this.

What was served was a meal so poor that it might as well have been for livestock. It was a nutritious grain porridge.

Let me make it clear, even in my earl’s household, we didn’t serve such terrible food. At least we had bread. But since it was someone else’s house and I didn’t know their policies, I endured and tried to eat it. I thought it might taste good despite its appearance, but only until I took the first bite.

It was seasoned with only the bare minimum of salt. I knew it.

This grain was developed for livestock but is technically edible by humans. It’s high in nutrients, so you can survive on it alone if you endure. However, if you see someone living on just this, you would suspect taste disorders. In the slums, they might not even have this, so being served a meal might be better, but this is unacceptable. The moment I saw the waiter standing behind me with a lecherous smile, I realized who was behind this treatment and the suffering that awaited me.

And so, my life of the bare minimum, with three meals and naps, truly began.

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