A Mad Lady’s Confession - Chapter 3

The woman’s wavering gaze fell to the carpet beneath her knees.

Countess Carmarthen. Of humble birth, yet still raised as the daughter of a viscount.

Among Lemren’s nobles, pride was something grotesquely large, regardless of rank. The sons and daughters of noble houses all grew up nourished by that very pride.

Fed on bloated egos and endless self-consciousness, they thrived. Matthias wondered how far this woman was willing to go.

His cold eyes looked down at the top of the countess’s head as she hesitated. Like a devil’s whisper, Matthias slowly opened his mouth again, guiding her choice.

“If you kiss the floor right now, I’ll gladly accept you.”

“…W-what kind of—”

At the absurd suggestion, the count opened his mouth belatedly, only to close it again under the duke’s icy aura.

Countess Carmarthen’s hands gripped the hem of her dress. Her hesitation didn’t last long. She was already on her knees, so kissing the floor was nothing more than an afterthought.

She wasn’t agonizing over throwing away her dignity and pride to kiss the ground; rather, she was elated by what she would gain afterward.

An official mistress was implicitly treated as the equivalent of a noblewoman of matching rank. Especially when the man had no wife like Matthias Nielsen. It was certain that society would look up to her.

Every year, Matthias donated tens of thousands of kroner to the poor and the orphaned across the Empire. How much more generous would he be to his mistress? With her own money, she’d no longer have to cower before her husband, who flinched even at the loss of ten kroner.

But more than anything, what thrilled her was Matthias Nielsen himself.

In the past ten years, no one but that woman had ever become the “official” woman of Matthias Nielsen. The mere thought of becoming his woman was enough for her to endure anything.

Slowly, the woman’s head lowered. She heard her husband’s furious, ragged breaths, but without a trace of hesitation, her lips touched the pure white carpet.

A shiver ran through her. She thought she’d never forget this moment for the rest of her life, the moment when she had claimed Matthias Nielsen for herself.

Finally, you’re mine. You’re—

“…!”

But when she lifted her head, the face she met was nothing like the one she’d imagined. Before her was the face of a man who looked as if he were staring at the most repulsive thing in the world.

The duke said casually, “I think that proves it well enough.”

“….”

“Do I need to prove your devotion even further, Countess, when you’re willing to offer anything to the floor?”

Instead of saying more, he tossed the stack of papers that had been resting on the side table onto the floor.

The headline, 『A Lady’s Secret Private Life』, caught her eye immediately.

“I thought whoever wrote this headline had quite the talent for grabbing attention, but it seems you requested it yourself, Countess. Perhaps instead of becoming my mistress, you should’ve applied for a position at the newspaper.”

As if even that was tiresome, he threw a small pouch next. When the count, watching the pouch roll across the plush carpet, looked up at the duke, Matthias gave the answer.

“It’s the countess’s signet ring. They say it was held as collateral when she requested the article.”

The count’s face turned bright red. Humiliation burned through him, but his lips only trembled; no words came out.

His instincts warned him: if he provoked the duke any further, it wouldn’t just be his foolish wife’s lips that touched the floor.

“Countess Carmarthen. I’m afraid I’ll have to decline your offer. It seems far more fitting for us to meet in the interrogation room of the chief of police than in my bed. How unfortunate.”

In a tone that was anything but regretful, he offered a polite farewell. As he looked at the beautiful yet foolish woman still reeling in confusion, Matthias continued coldly.

“I don’t have the stomach to kiss lips that just licked the floor.”

“…Y-Your… Your Grace!”

“Count, take your wife and leave my residence at once.”

Fixing his cold, hardened eyes on the count, he continued, “Take that disgusting woman and get out of my sight immediately.”

Despite the harsh words, the count couldn’t utter a single protest. Like a man suffocating under heavy pressure, he quickly took his wailing wife and left the drawing room.

The count didn’t look back until his back and underarms were drenched with sweat. Like a frightened animal terrified of being caught by the neck, his carriage sped away from the white stone mansion.

***

『Life is the joy one feels upon reaching the summit after climbing a rugged mountain path.』

It was a saying left behind by a famous bard of the Empire. The people of Lemren treated that phrase as if it were some universal truth of life.

But Matthias had never once agreed with that proverb. To him, life was neither a rugged mountain path nor joy.

Then what was life to Matthias Nielsen?

If he were to define it in a few words, it was too perfect, and therefore too easy, and because of that, unbearably dull.

Since the day he was born, there had been nothing he could not have. The moment he felt even the slightest flicker of interest, whatever it was would already be in his hands, as if it were only natural.

Because of that, Matthias didn’t really understand what it meant to “want” something. He possessed things before he even desired them.

Being born as the only heir of House Nielsen, heavy expectations had always surrounded his youth, but even that weight had never been a burden. Matthias had been extraordinary from the moment he came into the world, as if born fully prepared.

When his father passed away and he became the young head of the household at sixteen, he handled it without difficulty. It was no different.

Because he never desired, he never longed. Because he already had everything without wishing, everything felt natural. The pleasures of life that others considered fortune, Matthias experienced as routine.

Thus, the twenty-eight years of Matthias Nielsen’s life had been so effortless that it was bound to be dull. And so, he often said out of habit:

“How tedious.”

At that low murmur, spoken while he rested his chin in his hand, the princess sitting beside him, Princess Alicia, turned to him with a shocked expression.

But Matthias only raised an eyebrow, as if to say it didn’t matter; after all, the music was loud enough that no one would hear him anyway.

After dealing with that troublesome count and countess, who had barged in earlier that morning, Matthias was already exhausted, and the next event only worsened his headache.

A small chamber quartet hosted by Crown Prince Klaus. The prince seemed quite pleased with today’s performance, and as he rose for a standing ovation, everyone else followed suit.

“An excellent performance.”

Klaus, his face flushed with excitement, praised the musicians.

“As the rumors say, there’s truly nothing short of divine harmony in their music. Wouldn’t you agree, Duke Nielsen, with your fine ear for the art?”

He turned to Matthias, asking for his thoughts.

Matthias took his time, surveying the expectant faces around him.

What should he say? The performance was ordinary, neither stirring nor moving. There was no surge of emotion from the musicians, no personal interpretation, but only rigid fidelity to the notes on the sheet.

That in itself wasn’t necessarily bad. But calling it “divine harmony” or “heavenly sound,” as others did, was certainly an exaggeration.

“It was indeed fine. If I were to hear it just before ascending to heaven, it would be most fitting.”

Which meant, in truth, that he’d rather not hear it again until his death.

Whether they took his words literally or chose to ignore the meaning, the faces of the prince and those around him all showed visible agreement.

Toward the touched violinist, Matthias added softly, “Though it might be best to retune your third string.”

Leaving the tedious chatter of praise behind, Matthias turned to the window. As he let his gaze wander to the scenery outside to clear his head, a voice called out to him.

“Duke Nielsen.”

At the sound, he turned.

Crown Prince Klaus, adorned in a formal uniform embroidered with gold thread, was looking straight at him.