Something Is Wrong With My Husband (2)

At Lucien’s single decisive word, the room change was carried out in no time.

That said, the only real work involved was moving the gifts that had already been brought into a different room, and Marguerite had very few personal belongings to begin with. Her dinner-party dress was being kept by Yumila, who insisted such things could not be left lying around here, and half of the dresses and shoes that had been hidden were still unfound, so she was even more lightly equipped than when she had first married in.

During the move, making sure others could not hear, Marguerite softly whispered,

“Um, Lucien-sama, even without going to such lengths, I would never say anything that might put House de Broy at a disadvantage.”

Lucien only raised his brows even higher and clamped his mouth shut.

‘So he wants me to stay quiet and do as I’m told.’

The new room was assigned next to Lucien’s own room.

A polished vanity and cabinets were efficiently set in place, a clock with gold ornamentation was hung on the wall, and a tea set painted with intricate patterns was displayed in a glass cabinet.

The closet was filled with more outfits than one could count.

“Wait.”

Stopping a maid, Lucien examined the dress she was holding.

“This one shows too much shoulder. No. Exposing this much skin is unacceptable…”

It certainly was a bold design. The neckline emphasized the chest adorned with red roses, and the shoulders and arms were largely exposed. It did not seem suited to plain Marguerite.

The maid left the room carrying the dress.

When Lucien’s gaze met Marguerite’s as she watched, he made an awkward expression.

“…When I chose it, I thought it was good…”

“You chose it yourself, Lucien-sama?”

“……”

There was no answer.

‘Could it be that he’s been coming to the kitchen every morning for this?’

On the other side of the room, rings and earrings were being placed into jewelry boxes. Just looking at them made her feel dizzy.

Even Isabella did not own this many jewels. Maurice, when drunk, had complained that they were of an equal house, but only now did Marguerite realize that House de Broy truly possessed the power befitting a ducal house.

Apparently finished inspecting the dresses, Lucien walked over to Marguerite and, in the same intimidating voice, pointed to one door.

“That connects to my room.”

Lucien’s face tightened as if he were swallowing something.

“I’ll keep it locked so it won’t open.”

“Yes, I understand.”

“From tomorrow on, get ready and come to the dining room. …No, I’ll come get you.”

“Thank you very much.”

It seemed everything was finally prepared.

The servants quickly left the room, leaving only Lucien and Marguerite behind.

Looking around the room, Marguerite thought it felt like a dream. Every surface was polished and gleaming, a beauty she was unaccustomed to, almost unreal.

She spread her arms and spun once, and her skirt, catching the air, fluttered softly.

With her heart leaping, she almost felt like singing, like dancing—just as she thought that, she suddenly realized herself.

“I-I’m terribly sorry.”

Lucien had been watching Marguerite’s delight with narrowed eyes, but when she bowed deeply, he immediately turned his face away.

“Thank you for preparing such a wonderful room.”

“There’s no need for thanks. …You are my wife.”

Without waiting for her to lift her head, Lucien turned on his heel and left, so Marguerite never saw Lucien’s face flushed bright red, nor noticed the tips of his reddened ears hidden by his black hair.

‘I said I wouldn’t love her—and yet I fell in love.’

Covering his mouth with his hand, Lucien hurried away.

Meanwhile, watching Lucien depart, Marguerite thought,

‘Every time he speaks with me, he turns bright red and furrows his brows… Is he angry?’

Standing alone in the dazzling room, she noticed the loneliness that brushed her chest and let out a small sigh.

Marguerite’s life changed completely.

One could say she now looked the part of a future duchess.

“S-So white…!!”

Standing before the new bed in her new room, Marguerite’s face stiffened with tension.

The sheets spread over the bed were not the slightly dusty, dingy ones she had used before, but perfectly smooth, pure white sheets. Since they had been purchased specifically for Marguerite, they were, of course, brand new.

‘It feels wasteful to even lie down on them…!’

For the first time since marrying, Marguerite spent a sleepless night.

The next morning, Anna—who normally would have taken Marguerite to the kitchen—entered the room and helped her get dressed.

Anna wore a scowl the entire time, but her movements were quick and efficient, and it was only then that Marguerite realized Anna was not originally a kitchen maid.

“I’m not giving up on Lucien-sama. Someday I’ll become the head maid and prove myself more useful than you.”

She glared sharply, yet even as she did, her hands moved swiftly, striving to make Marguerite look beautiful.

Anna was not neglecting her work. On top of that, she was openly declaring her challenge.

Marguerite’s face lit up.

“Yes!”

“So, don’t make such a careless face…”

When Marguerite smiled in happiness, Anna shrugged in exasperation. Finally, she added a floral ornament to Marguerite’s arranged hair.

“There, it’s done. Lucien-sama will be here any moment.”

As soon as Anna said that, a knock sounded.

When Lucien entered the room, he seemed to lose his words for a moment at the sight of Marguerite.

‘Anna fixed my hair too, and I think it suits me better than I expected… but maybe it really is strange?’

When Marguerite looked up anxiously, the instant their eyes met, Lucien furrowed his brows and turned his face away, as if he did not want her in his line of sight.

Lady Yumila was no more pleased with Marguerite’s appearance in the beautiful dress.

The moment she saw Marguerite appear in the dining room, her eyes narrowed sharply, and the fan in her hand was slammed onto the table with a shrill sound.

“My, what is that gaudy dress supposed to be! Flaunting jewels so shamelessly—how vulgar…! Did House Clavel not even teach you how to choose a dress?!”

“Mother-in-law!”

By the time Marguerite realized what she had done, it was already too late.

Addressed by Marguerite, who had never talked back before, Lady Yumila fell silent.

In the brief hush that fell over the dining room—

“That was… something I bought…”

Lucien’s dejected voice dropped, and even Yumila had no choice but to remain silent.

That morning, Lucien looked less spirited than usual, and for the first time since marrying, Marguerite endured an awkward meal.