Chapter 7
The moment she poked her head inside, what greeted her was black smoke and a shadowy figure.
“Lady Clarisa!”
“Again.”
Beside the oven belching out black smoke, curled up in a corner with her chin propped in both hands, letting out a long, weary sigh, was unmistakably Clarisa.
Marie let out a sigh of relief—briefly.
“I’ve created some unnecessary trash again… heh heh.”
Hearing Clarisa’s spine-chilling laugh, Marie felt an urge to bite her tongue.
If she’d done something wrong again—no, even if she hadn’t—she wanted to beg forgiveness for everything anyway.
Marie couldn’t remember how she’d managed to eat lunch.
By the time she came to her senses, she had finished another late lunch as usual and was on her way to Clarisa’s room, carrying an assortment of tempting sweets.
Please, just this once, let her take her usual nap…
Marie’s earnest prayer never reached the heavens.
“L–Lady Clarisa?”
“Huh?”
Clarisa was sitting atop a desk she’d probably never sat on in her life, her head buried in a book.
The reason her reply was so unclear was that she had a pen in her mouth…
“Th-that… is that perhaps a… book?”
“Yeah.”
Thud—this time, Marie’s knees finally gave out.
Fortunately, she didn’t drop the tray of snacks she was holding.
But she couldn’t stop the foolish words that spilled out of her mouth.
“Lady Clarisa is… studying…?”
“…I can hear you, you know?”
It was practically a mutter, but Clarisa didn’t miss it.
She took the pen out of her mouth, shot Marie a sidelong glare, and furrowed her brow.
“If you’ve got nothing to do, leave the food and get out.”
It was an eviction notice she’d heard several times today already.
Following her little mistress’s wishes, Marie quietly set the snacks on the desk and fled with her tail tucked between her legs like a frightened puppy.
After Marie’s long, long account of the past week finally came to an end, silence settled over the marquis’s reception room, bathed in warm afternoon sunlight.
“That… can’t be…”
“Madam!”
Thump—Eclea’s head fell limply against the marquis’s shoulder.
Vestas was just as shaken. Losing his composure, he shouted,
“Where is the physician?”
“Lady Clarisa refused so adamantly that—”
“Even so, you should have made her get examined!”
“I’m truly sorry. It’s all because I’m inadequate…”
Clear tears spilled from Marie’s eyes once more.
The guilt of failing to properly serve her mistress weighed heavily on her heart.
“Ugh… dear.”
“Madam! Are you all right?”
“Yes, I’m fine. Please don’t scold Marie too harshly…”
Eclea pressed a hand to her forehead and slowly straightened up.
Judging by the weakness still lingering in her voice, she hadn’t fully recovered from the shock.
“But still—!”
“I think… I have an idea.”
At Eclea’s unsteady words, Vestas and Marie looked at her with wide eyes.
“Is that so?”
“Yes. The conversation I had with the ladies before… I remember it now.”
As she continued speaking, strength gradually returned to Eclea’s voice.
Only then did Marie finally let out a breath of relief, as if she’d met her savior.
“According to what they said… children Clarisa’s age these days tend to start doing things they never did before.”
“Oh?”
Vestas murmured in anticipation, waiting for his wife to continue. Marie, too, watched her with shining eyes.
The atmosphere around the three of them grew noticeably lighter.
“Apparently, people call it ‘adolescence.’”
The hour between dog and wolf passed, and a thin veil of darkness spread across the sky, leaving its mark.
Another peaceful day at the marquis’s estate was drawing to a close.
“Heh heh heh.”
Clarisa rested her chin on her desk and let out a distinctly ominous laugh.
Dark shadows lay beneath her eyes, proof of the week she remembered all too well.
Marie’s eyebrows twitched faintly as she watched her.
“Heh heh…”
But Clarisa paid no attention at all to what Marie might be thinking, laughing again and again as if she were genuinely delighted.
There was only one reason her mood was this good.
The preparations are complete.
Preparations for what?
If someone would ask, Clarisa felt more than ready to answer.
For this.
No—she dearly wished someone would ask.
To reel in our adorable male lead, of course!
Her golden eyes sparkled like midsummer sunlight.
Dinner hadn’t even begun yet, but the sense of satisfaction filling her chest made her feel full already.
Over the past few days, when she’d first recovered memories of her previous life, she’d felt like the very source of the world’s misfortune—unable to sleep properly no matter how she lay down.
But now, things were different.
If there was something keeping her awake, then all she had to do was solve it.
Having realized that simple, crystal-clear truth, Clarisa decided—
If I’ve been reincarnated into a world I know, I’d better make full use of what I know!
She resolved to use every scrap of knowledge at her disposal.
For instance, the preferences of the future duke.
Clarisa slowly pictured the duke she knew so well.
Aryan keeps healthy, upright people by his side.
Many knights followed him, but he never allowed those of questionable conduct anywhere near him.
He likes children.
Perhaps because he’d had such an unhappy childhood himself, he was strict with the world at large but gentle only with children.
He enjoys sweet food.
Blinded by illness brought on by hardship in his youth, the only taste Aryan could truly perceive was sweetness.
That was why, in the original story, the female lead consistently served him homemade desserts—and those moments were his favorites.
Lastly, he cherishes those with outstanding ability.
No one dislikes talented people, but for Aryan, who was awkward at human relationships, cherishing someone meant more than anything.
For someone who fundamentally couldn’t trust others, ability served both as a public measure of a person and as a sign that it was safe to express affection.
…Even if that person were to turn their back on him someday, he could console himself by thinking he’d wanted their ability, not the person.
Thinking of the original Aryan left a bitter taste in her mouth.
That attitude had caused misunderstandings in his emotional arc with the female lead, after all.
Well. I already know everything, so that won’t happen.
In any case, even aside from winning Aryan’s affection, claiming the man destined to become the nation’s number-one husband required at least one special ability that set her apart.
Well, it’s not like I can suddenly gain divine power like the heroine overnight… If I don’t have ability, I’ll make up for it with money. Money is power. There’s nothing money can’t do. That’s it.
Clarisa’s face shone with rapture.
Her skin had grown a bit dull, but she didn’t care—slathering on money would fix that in no time.
Mm, the more I think about it, the more perfect this plan is.
Of course, the process of polishing herself for it all was full of things she’d never done before, so it hadn’t been easy.
The results weren’t spectacular, but it hadn’t been a meaningless use of time either.
“I’ll make sure you can’t even dare to say you don’t like me anymore…”
Clarisa’s sinister voice sank heavily into the room.
Don’t bother struggling—just be ready to walk nothing but a flower-strewn path, a road paved with money and power, with me, Duke Aryan.
“Heehee… hehehe.”
As Clarisa burst into laughter all by herself once again, Marie looked at her with a face that seemed on the verge of tears.
Clink. She set down the utensil she’d been holding with an audible sound.
It was clearly ill-mannered, but Clarisa didn’t have the luxury of caring about such things.
“Pardon?”
As if she’d heard something she wasn’t meant to, Clarisa’s eyes flashed sharply upward. Her lower lip trembled.
She could no longer taste the tender piece of meat still lingering in her mouth.
“Could you… say that again?”
“You no longer need to give any thought to the young master of the Mathias family.”