Chapter 9

"――In other words, you intended to take her place as an unchaste sister and only spend the first night... is that it?"

In the couple's bedroom, he thought she looked cute as his beloved girl nodded shyly.

Perceval sighed deeply at the Earl of Wordsworth's family for coming up with such a sloppy plan.

"What a ridiculous thing..."

Still, it was a fact that thanks to this, he met Margaret, the one and only.

Though he felt somewhat uneasy, he could be grateful for this one point. To Perceval, Margaret was that special.

A few minutes after the conversation in the carriage, Perceval returned to the Stroud mansion, carrying Margaret, who had obediently settled in his arms. However, the mansion was in a temporary uproar due to the unexpected return of the master and the mysterious woman he brought with him.

Perceval promptly called Graham and Natalie, and first instructed Natalie to prioritize treating Margaret's injuries and cleaning her dirtied body.

Though Natalie's expression showed confusion, she followed the orders without complaint. Taking Margaret from Perceval, Natalie quickly led her to the bathroom.

On the other hand, Graham, in a position where he couldn't do the same, asked Perceval for an explanation in a low voice.

"Master, what exactly is going on here?"

"To cut to the chase... she looks different, but she is my Rea. Her real name is Margaret."

"...Huh... Huh??"

"I'll give you the details tomorrow, but for now, let her rest... I'm quite exhausted."

Perceval's straightforward attitude made Graham swallow all his questions for the moment.

"......I understand. I'll ask you again tomorrow."

Such quick thinking was very helpful.

After bowing, Graham began giving orders to the other servants. Perceval, feeling the tightness around his neck, loosened it and ran his fingers through his hair. He had been running around the castle and was quite sweaty and tired.

(...Anyway, I'm glad I made it in time.)

Returning to his territory, the mansion, he felt a bit more relaxed. Pressing his tightly clenched fist to his forehead, Perceval stood there for a moment, closing his eyes to calm his mind.

What came to mind was the sequence of events until he rescued Margaret.

When he went to get a drink and returned, Margaret, who should have been there, was already gone.

Under normal circumstances, one might think she had gone to the restroom, but it was unlikely for the punctual Margaret. Therefore, the faces of her family came to mind.

It was too late to regret not leaving her alone for a short time.

Perceval immediately took action. He stopped a nearby female servant and asked her to check if his wife was in the restroom. He also instructed another servant to quickly call the Stroud family's servants from the waiting room.

Seeing Perceval's anxious state, a colleague nearby became worried and approached him. Perceval briefly said, "I've lost my wife," and asked another question.

"Have you seen the Wordsworth family? They don't seem to be in this hall."

"If they're not in this hall, they might be in the central hall."

"That's right... I'll send someone there. Thank you."

While thanking his colleague, Perceval felt like cursing inwardly. This royal ball was on a grand scale, with two halls, making it difficult to find a specific person discreetly.

(At worst, I should ask His Highness for help...)

An unpleasant premonition had been bothering him.

Perceval instructed several servants to search for his wife and prepare the carriage in case of an emergency. He also headed to the hall's entrance. Waiting here would get him nowhere. The thought that she might be in danger at this very moment made him restless.

He moved from the grand hall to the wide corridors of the castle.

After a brief hesitation, he started walking in a less crowded direction.

"Perceval-sama!"

A sweet, cloying voice was thrown at him.

Stopping, Perceval turned to see a girl with chocolate-colored hair and ruby eyes—Julia Wordsworth. Normally, he wouldn't want to see her, but in this situation, she might be a valuable source of information.

The moment he saw the dress and jewelry she was wearing, Perceval almost shouted out loud, clenching his teeth to suppress his voice.

Ignoring his state, Julia approached with an innocent smile.

Just as she was about to make contact, Perceval finally spoke.

"...I have a question, and I want you to answer honestly."

"What? What's this sudden...?"

"Where is your sister... Margaret?"

"!? I don't know!"

Perceval's words made Julia act suspiciously. It was clear she knew something. To prevent her from escaping, Perceval reluctantly reached out and grabbed her left shoulder. He was so angry he wanted to hurt her, but his rationality prevailed.

The top priority was to protect Margaret. Other matters could wait.

Perceval asked again in a low voice.

"Tell me where she is. Right now."

"Hey... What's going on!?"

"Where did you take her? The rest room? Or somewhere else?"

"But I told you, I don't know!"

As she protested, a black light flickered at the center of Julia's chest—right over her heart. This was Perceval's unique magic, "Insight." When the other person lied, the lie was transmitted to him as visual information.

If "I don't know" was a lie, this woman definitely knew where Margaret was.

He couldn't let her escape.

"...Let me rephrase. Were you in the rest room just now?"

"...Yes, I was with my father and the others!"

"But Margaret wasn't there, right?"

"She wasn't there."

"Then, where do you think your sister is now?"

"What? I already said I don't know!"

"Maybe in a secluded place? With a lover...?"

Though it made him feel sick, Perceval asked to get information. Julia, for some reason, seemed to understand and broke into a smile.

"That's right! My sister likes men, so she might be having a rendezvous right now?"

"Then, she's in a place suitable for a rendezvous... like where?"

"If not the rest room, then probably the garden behind the central hall—"

That was enough to give him a clear answer.

Letting go of Julia's shoulder, Perceval turned and left, having no further use for her.

"Hey! Perceval-sama!?"

"You have no right to call me by my name—excuse me."

Running to the garden, he found Margaret being attacked by an unknown young man.

The thought that he might have been too late made his spine freeze.

He never wanted to experience such a feeling again, nor let her go through it.

(...There's a lot to do, but...)

After a quick shower to cool his head, Perceval changed into casual clothes and entered the couple's bedroom. There, Margaret, who had also tidied herself up, was waiting.

Noticing his entry, she put down her teacup and hurried over.

A large bandage was stuck on her left cheek, but her expression was calm.

"Perceval-sama, thank you so much today."

Perceval, genuinely surprised by her first words of gratitude, listened as Margaret continued.

"Thank you for saving me. I hadn't properly thanked you... If you hadn't come, I probably wouldn't have been able to return here."

"That's..."

"The man seemed to be my... Margaret's intended husband. He said he would take me to his mansion today."

Perceval was taken aback by the matter-of-fact statement. It had been a close call.

Margaret Wordsworth, in official documents, was nothing more than a relative of his wife. The decision about her was in the hands of her guardian, the Earl of Wordsworth.

Even if Perceval had tried to rescue her by all means, it would have taken time.

The fear made Perceval hug Margaret's slender body tightly.

For a moment, she stiffened but then tentatively wrapped her arms around his back and gently stroked it, as if to reassure him.

Unintentionally, their roles were reversed, but Perceval indulged in Margaret's kindness. He realized for the first time how emotionally fragile he could be.

After a while of hugging each other, Perceval briefly heard the details of the Wordsworth family's scheme and the events that transpired from Margaret.

The reason for taking her sister's place was so ridiculous that he was exasperated, but the rest matched his investigation.

Thinking about what he should do next based on the information, he noticed Margaret dozing off in his arms. She was clearly exhausted.

Deciding it was time to rest, Perceval carried her to the bed.

"...Perceval-sama..."

"Let's continue this tomorrow. Goodnight, Margaret."

"...Yes, goodnight..."

Margaret fell into a deep sleep as if a switch had been turned off.

Feeling a warm sense of happiness at her peaceful face, Perceval was about to leave the room when he noticed...

"...Ah."

Her fingers were gently gripping the hem of his clothes.

It wasn't a strong grip, more like a sweet, gentle restraint, and a natural smile appeared on his face.

(...Well, I guess it's okay to share the bed. We are married, after all.)

Justifying it in his mind, Perceval slid into bed next to Margaret.

After admiring her now familiar platinum hair, he pulled her close and closed his eyes, feeling immense relief from her faint scent mixed with soap.

"...I love you, Margaret."

The words slipped out without him realizing.

In his arms, Margaret seemed to smile happily, just a little.

This concludes Chapter 6. From here on, it will be the turn for retaliation (though it won't be too extreme). If you would like to continue, I would be grateful.

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