The Tragic Male Lead Chose the Wrong Partner

* * *

The next day, at the official residence.
Butler Milchenko delivered news of a visitor.
“Count Queensguard has arrived. He’s currently waiting in the guest salon.”

What now? He should go supervise the troublemaker Helene instead.
I sighed and made my way to the salon.
Count Queensguard was lounging lazily on the sofa, wearing a leisurely smile.

“As you’ve likely heard, both the Lumantis Empire and the Medeian Kingdom are actively searching for their next sovereigns.”
In simpler terms, it was like a major conglomerate appointing CEOs of subsidiary branches based on bloodline.
The Count, lost in thought, eventually wore a regretful expression.

“Helene isn’t fit to be a ruler. Instead of rowing together, all she thinks about is tossing others overboard.”
I quietly nodded as I sipped my tea.
He rose from his seat and stood before the window, hands clasped behind his back.

“I always deal with those who oppose me. Without exception. Even if they’re family. Ah—but I suppose there’s one exception.”
He turned and looked at me, a certain weight in his voice.
“My wife, Princess Margarita.”

For a split second, it looked like his lips twisted slightly, but he smoothed it over like nothing had happened.
“But she’s gone from this world now, so she may as well not exist at all.”
I thought of the endless portraits of the Countess that lined the estate halls.

“She looks like you, doesn’t she? That’s why you were perfect to play the fake.”
One of the reasons I’d been chosen was because I resembled her.
What kind of woman was she, that this selfish villain had given her his wholehearted devotion?
He had once been a soldier, and yet vowed to be her eternal knight. Given they married, I suppose he succeeded.

“But did the Countess ever oppose you? You said she was an exception.”
The Count turned to me, wearing a cold smile.
“She tried to marry another man. At the time, I wanted to destroy the world.”

He began recounting monstrous tales as if they were perfectly normal.
“So instead of the world, I shattered the royal family. It was going to collapse with a light push anyway. I must have whatever I want, no exceptions.”
So the loyal House Queensguard hadn’t miraculously avoided annihilation—they’d betrayed the monarchy.

Not “If I can’t have it, I’ll destroy it,” but “I’ll destroy it and reassemble it as mine”?
He looked genuinely sentimental—this obsessed villain consumed by twisted love.
“I wanted to give her a throne, even name a train station after her. And then she left before I could keep my promise. Really, she was a beautiful and heartless woman.”
Isn’t that just deranged love? No wonder he kept asking when the train station would be completed.

Then he said to me:
“So don’t even think about betraying me. Until the day I achieve my goal, I won’t betray you either.”
The words “Don’t start by trying to kill me first, sir,” nearly escaped my mouth—but I just shook my head.

“We’re in a symbiotic relationship stronger than blood, aren’t we?”
“Indeed.”
He chuckled like a proper villain.

Can someone like him even feel love? Or is it just obsession?
“The duke seems ready to divorce Helene.”
He spoke as if discussing a weather report. Clearly, Helene was no longer on his radar.

“Even after the gold mine in Dias?”
“He’ll demand Dias as alimony. She’s in his pocket now.”
He must have already had separate negotiations with the duke.

The Count rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
“The duke seems to want you.”
“...Huh?”

“He said he wants to remarry you.”
My eyes widened in pure shock.
Returning the older sister and requesting the younger? What kind of soap-opera trash is this?

“Whatever the case, you’ve been recognized as a royal. Your actions draw comparisons to Helene.”
It seemed even Count Queensguard was leaning toward making me duchess rather than killing me. I must have proven unexpectedly useful.
“I suppose you could say one death flag has been lifted…”

But then what happens to Masera?
Yet I couldn’t just blurt out that I didn’t want to betray Masera.
Sensing my inner turmoil, the Count slowly added,

“There are many ways. Whether you remarry as a war hero’s grieving widow or a woman with divorce papers in hand... He may even use royalist forces to his advantage.”
As soon as I heard the words grieving widow, goosebumps spread down my arms.
It sounded like he was prepared to have Masera killed just to make the marriage possible.

Amid the power struggle over the monarchy’s survival, Masera and I stood on opposite sides of the battlefield.
For the first time, he asked me my opinion.
“What do you think about becoming the duchess? The Grand Madam and Princesses like you. With Medeia’s support, it’s your chance to rise even higher.”

From a fake princess to a queen on the throne.
The duke would act as regent, the real ruler. I’d just sit there smiling—a puppet queen, a clown in a crown.
He stared at me as I hesitated to answer.

“Whatever you choose... if you have feelings for the colonel, it’s best to let go now.”
He must’ve caught on to the changes between Masera and me.
No doubt Charles the informant had been reporting everything in detail.

“Love ruins everything. Money and power are what matter most.”
Was that advice or a warning from a man who’d loved and lost?
“I think so too.”

I put on a cheeky grin and pretended to agree.
“You haven’t sealed the deal with the duke yet, right? If you rush the decision, you might be disappointed.”
That cunning old fox would definitely wait for the results from Nox before upping the stakes.

The Count smiled as he placed a hand on my shoulder.
“Obviously. You only need to pick the winner. Now then, my daughter—see you at the banquet tonight.”
So he was planning to pit them against each other for my hand. As of now, the duke clearly had the upper hand.

“But what is it that you want, Count? Money and power?”
At my question, he turned his head as he walked away.
“Money and power are just tools. What I want is... the train station.”

As I watched him leave behind those deranged words, I clenched the hem of my skirt.
Masera’s going to die? Because of me?
Suddenly, a memory of his smile surfaced, and I bit my lip.

What was Count Queensguard thinking?
He seemed like someone madly craving something—but what he truly wanted remained a mystery.
Sometimes, he seemed to yearn for something that didn’t even exist in this world.

Whatever power he had behind him, if he could destroy the monarchy, then he could surely rebuild it too.
I clenched my jaw and balled my fists tightly.
Anyone who tries to ruin my romcom life—I won’t let a single one of them go unpunished.

* * *
Until the day of the wedding, the Prime Minister’s residence remained brightly lit each night for the endless parties.
Tonight, too, Cynthia was attending a banquet with Masera.

While Masera spoke with foreign officers, Cynthia chatted with Clarence and Elsa, with whom she had grown close.
Several other ladies who had previously taken her side were also present.
Then, the Duke of Recanosa approached her.

“Would you care for a brief walk? There’s something I’d like to discuss.”
Cynthia nodded and followed him out to the garden.
“I intend to divorce Helene and remarry you, Princess.”

The duke was direct.
Though he knew the truth of Cynthia’s identity, he intended to treat her as royalty until the end.
Taking her hand, he continued,

“Feelings like yours are fleeting. When it comes to ruling, you and the colonel are fundamentally at odds—you’ll inevitably clash.”
Her hand twitched in his grasp.
Words that promised survival. But the condition was Masera’s death.

Seeing she didn’t respond, the duke gave a faint smile.
If she’s going to die at the colonel’s hand for being exposed, or at Count Queensguard’s hand, isn’t marrying me the best outcome?
He had already asked the Count to give her to him rather than kill her.

“Princess, I’ve learned that living as a couple without love is a wretched thing. Only now do I understand that happiness lies in sharing life with someone who truly understands you.”
Cynthia looked up at him with sunken eyes.
That only applies when both people feel the same way.

Just as the duke seemed to expect a positive answer after seeing her soft smile, she twisted her hand free.
Then, as if something disgusting had touched her, she wiped her hand briskly on her skirt.
The duke’s eyes widened in visible shock.

* * *
“Tch. My daughter is simply too extraordinary.”
Count Queensguard puffed on his cigar, wearing a face ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) of mock regret.

Masera had stepped out to speak with the Count privately—only to stumble upon the duke’s proposal by chance.
Standing just one wall away from Cynthia, he showed no reaction—his face was devoid of all emotion.
“There are many who covet my daughter, blessed with royal blood and rare luck. If you don’t want her snatched away, you’ll have to stay sharp. Parents can’t win against their children. In the end, we can only follow their wishes.”

Count Queensguard gave a crooked smile.
“‘Snatched away’ can mean many things. But I trust you, Colonel, will choose the path that lets your wife live.”