The Wicked Wife’s Dark History Keeps Coming Back To Haunt Her - Chapter 112

Nina couldn’t understand why they did something so shameless if they were going to tremble at a single complaint and rush to settle.

“…Thank you so much, Madam.”

“I’m truly grateful too. If you hadn’t helped us, we would’ve been in serious trouble.”

No.

If anything, it was thanks to them that she had been able to accomplish her goal in the capital without incident.

It was a mutually beneficial deal, so to speak.

‘Still, it feels nice to be thanked…’

To have been of help to someone.

To be able to see someone smile because of that.

It was something that hadn’t existed in ‘Nina’s’ life, and it left her feeling proud.

Back at the beginning of her regression, most people hadn’t even worried about her—only clicked their tongues and mocked her.

‘Change, huh…’

Nina absentmindedly brushed her lower lip with her fingertips.

That cold fingertip that had pressed down firmly, as if stamping a seal.

The touch that remained vivid even in her foggy, dreamlike consciousness.

Had that merely been a gesture to help her take her medicine?

When she recalled the breath of the man that had hovered so closely over her lips on the imperial palace’s balcony, the lingering heat made her cheeks flush with warmth.

Nina pressed her cool hand against her cheek.

‘…No delusions allowed.’

No overthinking, either.

After Jessie and Yona left, Nina got up from the bed.

She arranged the bouquet they had given her neatly in a vase.

“I should take a walk through the garden for the first time in a while.”

The weather outside looked lovely.

Her body had recovered.

She needed to stretch her stiff limbs and shake off the useless feelings she’d been harboring.

***

The duke’s office at the Bayern ducal manor—

Ash was staring at the documents on his desk more seriously than ever.

“This recent trip to the capital must’ve been extremely difficult for the Madam. According to the Taylor family’s medical records, she was born premature and suffered from frequent illnesses as a child.”

The physician had judged that the problem was not just the arduous journey, but also the intense stress she had been forced to endure all at once—on a body that wasn’t healthy to begin with.

Ash, who had been staring at the writing on the document as if facing an important decision, finally opened his mouth after a long silence.

“Send someone to the dressmaker’s.”

“…Pardon, Milord?”

Hozi, who had been waiting for Ash’s approval, gaped.

It was a rare, dumbfounded expression.

Because this was not something the Duke, who had been reviewing documents with such serious eyes, should have been saying.

Was that what he had been thinking about while pretending to concentrate on the paperwork?

“Your Grace, don’t tell me you’ve been daydreaming all this time?”

Ash ignored Hozi’s incredulous question and continued speaking.

“Tell them I will be purchasing clothing for my wife under my name.”

He had agonized over this from the moment they were still in the capital.

How could he suppress the rumors of marital discord?

What they had done on the balcony hadn’t been enough.

A handful of witnesses wasn’t enough to erase the slander that had tarnished his wife’s reputation.

“If her eyes so much as linger on something, regardless of the price, I intend to purchase it all. So make sure they prepare properly.”

A boutique was a place where rumors gathered.

Though nobles rarely visited in person, the owners’ close employees came and went frequently.

And if he placed such an order under his name, one that prevented other families from making reservations for the entire season?

It would be enough firewood to set rumors ablaze.

And even if it wasn’t enough, it would at least produce some smoke.

“Not just dresses. Tell them I’ll be looking at hats, shoes, bags, and accessories too. Have them send every catalogue they have. Ah, one place won’t be enough.”

The more mouths involved, the stronger the firepower. It would be better to send people to every luxury boutique nearby.

“Your Grace, do you even realize how much this is going to cost?”

Even Hozi, who was unshakable under most circumstances, was left speechless.

But Ash, indifferent, continued in a calm voice.

“It doesn’t matter how much it costs. This is the least I can do to restore her dignity.”

Ever since he saw his wife falling silent while overhearing a conversation led by Duchess Nord—or perhaps even since he read that vulgar, wretched piece of writing—he had been thinking it.

He didn’t care how much it cost.

“…After all, with a wife like that woman, how can he risk producing a heir, only for the child to be just as deranged as she is?”

He no longer wanted to see his wife standing in the shadows, head bowed, silently enduring such ridicule.

And he no longer wanted her to consider ‘divorce’ as part of her future.

…He didn’t want that anymore.