Chapter 24: Confessions in the Mist and a Maid with Big Ears

The bath incident haunted Verbena all night. No matter how tightly she shut her eyes, the image of Theodore's wet hair, his bare chest, and that ridiculously soft smile kept replaying like a cursed loop in her mind.

Why did he have to look so… so… attractive?

"No! He's the villain! The very villain I'm supposed to divorce! Get it together, Verbena!" she muttered, pacing furiously in her room.

But her heart? It had its own rebellious plans—thumping faster than a marching band whenever she thought about him.

Morning came, and Verbena—after a night of tossing, turning, and questionable self-reflection—was already in a foul mood.

Unfortunately, Theodore chose this exact morning to casually stroll into the breakfast room like he owned the entire universe. His black coat hung perfectly on his broad shoulders, and his hair was neatly styled—but Verbena couldn't unsee last night's damp, half-naked version.

She immediately glared at him.

"Good morning, wife." He smiled, all polite and innocent.

Fake! Liar! Temptation devil!

"Don't talk to me," she snapped, stabbing her fork into a poor innocent sausage.

Theodore raised a brow and took his seat across from her. "You're still mad about last night?"

"Mad? Who's mad? I'm not mad! Why would I be mad?"

"You're mashing your breakfast like you're interrogating it."

Verbena threw down her fork. "You! You're the problem!"

Theodore's smile faltered slightly. "Me?"

"Yes, you! First you act like the villain everyone fears, then you suddenly start appearing everywhere—smirking, teasing, saying sweet things like some second male lead who's secretly in love—what am I supposed to do with that?!"

Theodore's expression sharpened. "What are you saying, Verbena?"

"I'm saying you're confusing me!"

The room fell silent. Even the servants standing near the walls pretended to become furniture.

"I'm confusing you because I'm being nice?" His voice was low, dangerous.

"It's not nice—it's manipulative! You're supposed to be the cold, cruel Duke who terrifies the Empire, not… not the type to pick petals out of my hair!"

"So you want me to be cruel to you?"

"No! I mean—yes! I mean—" Verbena grabbed her head, groaning loudly. "Why are you making this so complicated?! I just wanted a clean divorce, okay? But now my stupid heart is doing stupid things, and I don't know what's real anymore!"

There. She said it.

Theodore froze. His hand, which had been casually cutting his toast, stopped mid-air.

"What did you just say?" His voice was soft, dangerously soft.

"Nothing! Forget it! Eat your stupid toast!" She bolted up from her chair, ready to flee—but Theodore's hand caught her wrist across the table.

"You said your heart is doing 'stupid things'."

"Slip of the tongue! I meant indigestion!"

"Verbena."

He stood, stepping around the table, closing the distance between them. Verbena backed up until her back hit the wall.

"Stop looking at me like that," she mumbled.

"Like what?"

"Like you're going to kiss me or murder me—both feel the same when you do it!"

For a moment, Theodore just stared at her. Then—he let go of her wrist and turned away.

"I see," he said, voice eerily calm. "So my affection is nothing but manipulation to you."

"W-Wait, I didn't mean—"

"It's fine. I understand now."

And with that, he walked out. No smirk. No teasing. Just cold silence.

And for some reason, that silence hurt more than anything.

---

Verbena locked herself in her room, buried under blankets, wallowing in self-pity.

"I'm such an idiot," she groaned. "He wasn't even confessing or anything! I'm the one who made it weird!"

She flopped onto her stomach. "Maybe I should just hide in here forever."

And that's when the head maid, Madam Winora, popped her head in unannounced.

"Oh dear, Duchess, are you unwell?"

Verbena shot up like she'd been caught stealing. "H-How long have you been standing there?!"

"Since the part where you called yourself an idiot." Winora smiled sweetly.

"WHY DIDN'T YOU KNOCK?!"

"I did. Three times. You were too busy talking to yourself."

Verbena's face turned redder than a tomato. "Forget everything you heard!"

"Oh, I could," Winora said cheerfully, "but I won't."

"Madam Winora, please—"

The older woman clicked her tongue playfully. "Duchess, I have eyes, you know. And ears. And I've been working here long enough to see how the Duke looks at you."

Verbena swallowed hard. "He doesn't—"

"He does. Like a man who wants to be loved but doesn't know how to ask for it."

That shut her up completely.

"Besides," Winora added, "the entire household already knows you've fallen for him."

"WHAT?! I HAVEN'T!"

"Your heart says otherwise, dear." Winora winked.

Before Verbena could protest further, Winora strolled out humming a romantic tune, leaving Verbena to wrestle with her own feelings and a growing sense of doom.

---

That evening, she sat alone in the garden, trying to clear her head.

She looked up at the sky. "This is all fate's fault. Why did I get reincarnated into this mess? Why couldn't I be a background character with no husband and a simple bakery?"

But deep inside, her heart whispered:

Wouldn't that be boring?

---

End of Chapter 24