AMLSL 9

Chapter 9

The Live-In Son-in-Law (2)**

“…A live-in son-in-law.”

I was putting all my strength into my hands, just in case a murderous curse came flying at me, but fortunately, what came out of Merdia’s mouth after hearing my proposal wasn’t a curse but a suspicious mumble.

“If you wish, I can even write you a memorandum stating that I was the one who wanted a ‘live-in son-in-law’ first. Wouldn’t that be better for you too, Lady Gongnyeo?”

Grateful once again for having survived with my fly-like life, I began to move my mouth urgently, but Merdia, who instead of answering just gave a slight smirk, threw a question back at me.

“You seem to know my situation quite well?”

“It’s such a famous story, after all. Probably everyone in the capital knows.”

That’s right. The peculiar situation Lady Merdia currently found herself in was something that could be easily discovered just by reading the Empire’s gossip papers—no past-life knowledge required.

“I suppose so. Even a passing dog knows the Duke is dying to kill me.”

“Ahaha….”

Well, to summarize, the Ambergreen Ducal House is currently in the midst of a fierce war over the position of heir to the one and only head of the family.

Merdia, who stands at the most advantageous high ground in that war, is currently receiving countless attacks and checks, and the most troublesome among them is none other than what’s called the “marriage proposal attack.”

Behind such a backdrop was the ancient tradition of successor selection passed down through the Ambergreen Ducal House.

According to that rule, the head of the Ambergreen Ducal House cannot directly choose their successor, and must hold a successor selection trial in which all qualified individuals may participate.

Of course, that doesn’t mean the head’s role is completely excluded, because the head can announce one rule that the successor must abide by during the selection trial.

At least nominally, I’d heard such a rule exists as a minimal measure to prevent the head from emotionally deciding the succession while also acknowledging the authority of the head as the host of the selection trial—but honestly, I’m not sure how effective it is.

Still, honestly, considering the tremendous prestige the Ambergreen Ducal House has maintained over the long years since the Empire’s founding, there must be a reason they’ve kept such an old tradition alive all this time.

Anyway, the problem is that the current Duke of Ambergreen, who despises Merdia with a passion, announced the rule: “The successor must have a married partner.”

Naturally, it’s a clause that poses no problem for his sons, but for Merdia—who, in a normal marriage, would likely be subordinated to the groom’s rank under imperial law—it couldn’t be anything but a lethal provision.

Right after the Duke of Ambergreen issued the decree, fools hoping for a possible jackpot all sent marriage proposals at once, and the volume of correspondence reaching Merdia increased fivefold, so that says it all.

Fortunately, however, the headache-inducing situation Merdia faced wasn’t entirely without a solution—and that method was to find a live-in son-in-law who would be subordinated to the bride’s family.

But naturally, among those holding the rank of count or higher, there was no one willing to take on such a dangerous position where they might be used like a chess piece and discarded at any time.

And making a viscount or baron the live-in son-in-law would be too degrading to Merdia’s prestige, and even if she used her specialty to threaten someone of suitable rank and set them up as a figurehead, the complex and notorious authority of imperial noble marriages made it highly likely she’d be stabbed in the back instead.

“I wish the rule had been that women can’t become successors—then I could have happily started a rebellion. It’s a rule that looks fine on the surface, so it’s truly insidious beyond compare.”

Just as she said—the Duke of Ambergreen, who could never tolerate Merdia becoming head even if the family tottered, yet still wanted to protect his own status—really did come up with quite the cunning trick.

“But if you accept my proposal, such problems will be resolved in one stroke.”

“Hmm.”

“Oh, I’ll prepare the grounds for divorce attributable to me in advance so they can be discovered around the time you wish, Lady Gongnyeo. That way, the political damage to you will be somewhat lessened, yes?”

But even he probably never imagined there’d be a sucker like me.

If things proceed according to my proposal, the biggest problem Merdia has been worrying about will be resolved in one fell swoop.

She’ll immediately gain a contract husband with suitable fame and suitable rank—one who can even conveniently create the grounds for annulment whenever she wants. Perfect conditions.

“And what do you gain from this?”

“My safety and my family’s, of course?”

And the price for enduring all of that is just briefly marrying her—a sucker husband like that is, I’d stake my life on it, only me.

Well, honestly, it’s not like I want to be sold off to a ducal house like this either.

But after carefully reviewing the family documents over the past week, I had no choice—I’d discovered mountains of debt and businesses that had swallowed nearly the entire family fortune.

The moment my engagement to Merdia falls through, investors will pull out all at once, and before long, creditors will come charging at the mansion where my younger sibling and I live with their eyes blazing.

What on earth was Father thinking, stirring up all this and then going into hiding?

‘It seems like there’s some kind of circumstances…’

Anyway, it’s fortunate that my favorite was Lady Merdia. If it hadn’t been, I really would have wanted to die.

“Ha, fine. For now, I’ll trust you.”

As I was quietly sighing inwardly with such thoughts, Merdia—who for some reason found something amusing and smirked again—rested her chin on her hand and continued in a softened tone.

“Honestly, you’re suspicious in many ways, but it’s clear you’re not some fool blinded simply by my power or body.”

Hearing her words, it seems—though I’m still not entirely sure—that there’s hope.

“I’m quite tired of those types, you see.”

“Um, it’s true that I’m personally charmed by you, Lady Gongnyeo….”

“Still, for now, let’s make it an engagement rather than a marriage.”

Just as expected, Merdia cut off my grumbling—I’d been feeling needlessly disappointed—and her statement contained quite welcome news.

“Well, I don’t mind.”

It’s a shame it’s not a marriage, but an engagement should be enough to calm the family’s unrest to some degree.

Of course, since a time limit called “annulment” has newly appeared, I’ll have to work even harder from now on. Still, I’ve avoided immediate ruin, so I should be able to breathe easy for the time being.

“And I’ll add one more condition.”

“Yes?”

“It’s nothing much—just help me deal with something that’s been grating on my nerves lately.”

I was grinning happily with such thoughts when Merdia suddenly threw cold water on the atmosphere.

A new condition is one thing, but something grating on Merdia’s nerves?

Of course, I’m willing to go along with anything as long as it’s not an unreasonable request, but why do I feel such a chill down my spine?

“Therefore, you’ll need to accompany me to the Crown Prince’s engagement ceremony coming up.”

“What did you say?”

I’d been gauging Merdia’s mood with such thoughts, and upon hearing the condition she’d just spat out, I felt my head go dizzy as I asked again.

“That fool who’s been laboring under the delusion that I’ve liked him since long ago—for whatever he ate wrong—sent me an invitation.”

“Ah….”

“Reading the truly insulting language written on that invitation, I simply couldn’t sit still.”

But unfortunately, it seemed I hadn’t misheard.

“So if you’re my fiancé, you’ll naturally help me with my revenge, yes?”

‘This is bad.’

Actually, the fact that I’d have to join hands with Merdia to stick it to none other than the Crown Prince wasn’t all that surprising.

After all, now that I’ve thrown in my lot with Merdia, I’ll have to do plenty of things far worse than that going forward.

The reason I reacted so strongly is that the Crown Prince’s engagement ceremony is the tutorial of the original work—and simultaneously, it’s designed so that the player, the protagonist of the game, must win no matter what.

In other words, Merdia and I, who end up as the protagonist’s enemies in the prologue, are destined to lose no matter what.

The problem is that the one who’ll bear the aftermath will, with considerable probability, be me rather than Lady Merdia.

“Why, do you dislike it?”

“Ahaha….”

I’d just barely managed to catch my breath, and now it feels like the sky is darkening again.

* * *

“Well, I’m not exactly forcing you.”

Merdia, seeing Whitney’s smile distort for the first time, wore a highly satisfied smile as she rose from her seat and added.

“If you dislike it, you’re free to give up.”

That smile remained until she crossed past the maids still sprawled on the ground and headed for the garden’s exit.

“To a man who can’t even take that much of a risk, I’ve no more interest either.”

Was it because she’d met a worthy opponent for the first time in a long while? Or was it because, unbeknownst to her, the man before her had found his way into her favor in many ways?

‘Surely he won’t give up now, will he, Whitney.’

Merdia’s gaze, as she walked, lingered subtly behind her.

Perhaps because of that, by the time her footsteps began to slow—

“Please wait.”

A lively voice—now quite familiar—pierced her ear.

“Yes, that’s how it should be.”

“Oh, but I have a condition of my own to add.”

But to Merdia, who had finally stopped walking with a satisfied smile, an unexpected proposal arrived.

“If I successfully help you with your plan, Lady Gongnyeo, would you grant me one small wish?”

Thanks to that, this time the expression on her face as she turned her head was slightly distorted.

“Demanding a blank check for just that much—you want a lot, don’t you?”

“Well, you’re free to refuse if you dislike it.”

But Whitney, still wearing his kind smile, added.

“I’m not the type to cling to someone who says no, after all.”

Somehow that smile looked cold to Merdia—as if he’d turned serious.

“Besides, even if things go wrong, it’s not like I could actually harm you, Lady Gongnyeo, now could I?”

“Hah.”

When a remark close to a threat—one he hadn’t even made when his escort was present—slipped from his mouth, Merdia’s lips momentarily curved into a smile.

‘He’s not bluffing.’

Despite her expression, she was in fact tense for the first time in a long while.

She had just now confirmed with her own two eyes the true nature of the unsettling aura she’d felt from Whitney since their first meeting.

‘Well, if it had been bluff, he couldn’t have withstood my killing intent head-on like that.’

The proof was the grayish energy rising like heat haze around his body—something only her jeweled eye could currently perceive.

“Yes, if something goes, something must come.”

“Those are wise words indeed.”

She wanted to draw out that unfamiliar type of energy to its limit, but at this point Merdia’s reason still preceded her instincts.

“Of course, I’ll refuse any absurd wishes. Keeping within bounds will be better for all of us.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t make unreasonable demands.”

So when her agreement—one that could be called dramatic—came out, Whitney’s lips curled upward quietly.

“Either way, I do like you, Lady Gongnyeo.”

“You really have no talent for jokes, Lord Whitney.”

The two of them truly looked like a well-matched pair.

“Even that point is much like me.”

‘All right, so please just go now.’

Of course, to Whitney—who was inwardly reciting protection spells with all his might again, worried a curse might fly at him—that would have been a rather unfair sentiment.

* * *

Several dozen minutes later.

Lady Merdia, having left the garden where Whitney was and reached the mansion’s main gate, paused briefly as she was about to board the waiting carriage.

‘As expected, he’s not ordinary.’

Her face, unlike before she’d left the garden, had already turned cold.

‘To withstand my aura head-on.’

Making that Luniel into a subordinate, successfully restoring the mana circuits that no one else had managed, and even under her threats, joking to the end without ever revealing his true intentions—those could be set aside.

But the killing intent she’d genuinely unleashed a moment ago was not something that could be handled with mere focus or protective magic.

That killing intent had, in fact, been densely mixed with Merdia’s unique mana—so anyone short of a strong warrior with considerable skill should have been left in tatters.

And as far as Merdia knew, there were few people across the entire continent—let alone the Empire—who could avoid being left in such a state.

So at the very least, he should have shown a reaction on par with Luniel, who’d gritted his teeth and endured her aura—yet for some reason, Whitney had borne the killing intent without so much as furrowing a brow.

With those half-open eyes of his—impossible to tell whether open or closed, as usual—without showing even the faintest movement.

‘…And, that aura from earlier.’

Also, when he’d begun seriously intervening between Luniel and her, and when he’d stopped her as she tried to leave the garden.

Though it was only at a minute level, Merdia could clearly feel it.

Every time he, seated in his place, showed an emotional reaction, the dark energy that constantly lingered around him would momentarily extend in all directions.

Of course, the energy he possessed wasn’t particularly malicious or murderous.

The energy itself merely radiated an eerie and ominous wavelength endlessly.

But that was precisely the problem.

If he were constantly emitting such a terrifying aura, there was no way the people around him—or he himself—could be unharmed.

Unless the owner, Whitney, was intentionally suppressing it.

Then what if, in the earlier situation, Whitney had raised his aura with all his might like she had?

“I suppose an investigation is in order.”

Whitney Lingard. There is definitely something about that man.

She still doesn’t know what it is, but at least it’s certain he possesses potential on par with her own.

“And, of course, I’ll still need to be wary, but….”

As Merdia organized her thoughts and walked on, she paused briefly and her jewel-like eyes gleamed coldly.

—Crunch…!

Then, just as something seemed to make a crushing sound, something suddenly shot up into the sky from the tree beside her.

The thing, which had hurriedly spread its wings and begun flapping vigorously, lost its strength the moment it entered Merdia’s sight and plummeted straight to the ground.

“…It seems His Majesty has also been taking a personal interest.”

So what ended up falling cracked at Merdia’s feet was a delicately glass-sculpted dove-shaped magical tool.

The mana contained within it unmistakably belonged to someone Merdia was quite familiar with—and someone she currently wary of as much as the Duke of Ambergreen himself.

“I’ll need to keep this in my hands for the time being, it seems.”

Merdia, looking down at the magical tool with a cold smile, promptly crushed it underfoot and shattered it, then headed toward the carriage, muttering in a low voice.

“You must be glad to have such a thoughtful wife, hmm? Whitney Lingard.”

Of course, if Whitney himself—who was still in the garden tearing his hair out—had heard that, it would have been a rather baffling remark.