The Wicked Wife's Dark History Keeps Coming Back To Haunt Her - Chapter 307
âThe Count said he was making a plan, butâŚâ
Would that really be as easy as it sounded?
It was never easy to spirit away a painter who already had a patron.
And on top of that, Rebecca, who harbored rivalry and inferiority toward her, was the patron?
No matter how beneficial it might be to her, Nina didnât think she would willingly hand Emil over as Henryâs disciple.
âIf she projects herself and me onto Henry and Emilâs relationshipâŚâ
If that was the case, then wasnât âthat timeâ probably Count Conwellâs only chance to rescue that child?
The winter charity event.
That day was the largest event of the yearâs end, where not only countless people gathered, but one could also have an audience with His Majesty the Emperor.
Nina didnât know what Count Conwellâs plan was, but she truly hoped that poor child could be freed from that filthy den.
âMadam, anyone who saw this would think your neck was a canvas.â
After drying her hair.
When Marsha dusted powder over the reddish marks on her white neck and blushed, Nina, who had been sunk in dark thoughts, gave a dry cough.
ââŚAhem, Iâll ask him to be more careful.â
Maybe because she bruised easily, the traces of last night remained clearly on the nape of her neck.
âAt least itâs winter.â
Because it was cold, these days she wore a shawl indoors or clothes that covered her neck.
If it had been summer, she would have had a hard time hiding the marks her husband had left on her neck.
âStill, Iâm glad you look better these days, Madam.â
âHm?â
At the unexpected remark, Ninaâs eyes widened.
Marsha finished applying the powder with a smile on her face and said,
âDo you perhaps remember what last winter was like?â
âLast year?â
Nina tilted her head.
Even if it was only last year, to her it felt like a faded old memory, blurry as an old photograph, so she couldnât recall it.
âYou held parties every single day.â
âAh, thatâs right.â
It was the season when even the high nobility went into austerity mode in preparation for winter.
Nina used to hold parties often in order to hide the emptiness she felt from her unhappy marriage.
No matter how much makeup she wore, back then Ninaâs face had been filled with nothing but anger and venom.
âIn the past few days your face has grown a little thinner, Madam, but even so, I think itâs certain that youâre happier now than you were then.â
Was that so.
Nina looked at herself in the mirror and thought.
As Marsha said, she did look a bit spent, but she could understand what she meant by saying it was better than before.
HappyâŚ
âI guess thatâs true.â
At first, she had struggled, asking why of all times she had to return to this one.
Her eyes now shone so brightly that it made all those times she had writhed in agony under the blankets seem almost pointless.
It felt as if self-esteem and confidence had blended together in a healthy way.
Just as her husband, whom she had thought would never change, had changed, she could feel that her own resolve had somehow grown firm as well, unlike before.
âStill, please make sure to take care of your health. If you lose any more weight here, I really think itâll be a serious problemâŚâ
Marsha let out a sigh, saying that Ninaâs body was already so slender that it looked as though it might flutter like paper.
ââŚAhem, Iâll try to restrain myself too.â
Because she couldnât blame only her husband for that part.
She herself had also caught fire late, after all.
She was finishing her morning preparations, carrying with her the fresh realization that so much had changed, when.
âMadam, the dessert you asked the head chef to make is ready.â
âAlready?â
Nina welcomed the kitchen maid with a brightened face.
The dessert she had asked the head chef to make some time ago.
The dessert she had requested be developed as a gift to send to Marquis Belmore and Marchioness Lambert had finally been completed.
She had nearly forgotten all about it in the midst of her busy days, so how could she not feel pleased to hear that it was finally done?
The kitchen maid held out the âyakgwaâ honey cookies arranged on a tray.
âI donât know if itâs the flavor you wanted, Madam, but the head chef said it seems to have turned out quite well.â
At least the appearance passed.
It couldnât be helped that they didnât have the flower-shaped molds she had often seen in the modern world, but the important thing wasnât the shape, it was the taste.
âIf the head chef said that much, then it should be alright to look forward to it.â
She popped one of the mini honey cookies, cut with a square cookie mold, into her mouth in a single bite.
And a moment later.
Nina gave a thumbs-up to the maid, who was holding out the tray with a tense expression as if waiting for her verdict.
She couldnât say it was exactly the same, but it was the flavor she had been hoping for.
âThe honey cookies finished today are going to be sent to House Belmore and House Lambert, so package them nicely.â
âYes!â
She had made an impression on Marquis Belmore that day, but it was all thanks to Marchioness Lambert.
It was solely up to her to carry that connection forward.
