Milena had an accusing look in her eye. She probably believed getting away from him would be the best thing for Byletta. Arnald knew that, as a man, he truly wouldn’t be good for her, so Milena wasn’t entirely wrong. Still, he couldn’t let Byletta just escape from under his nose like that.
Even if Arnald was indifferent to women, he had a feeling he was going to have a hard time letting Byletta go. He couldn’t seem to think of a clear reason why—it was just a hunger within him. An impatience. It made him uncomfortable, but at the same time, it made him feel like he’d made a huge mistake.
Ill at ease with his own thoughts, Arnald ate the rest of his breakfast.
Later on, he revealed to his father the wager he’d agreed upon with Byletta the night before. The count had simply told him to do what he wanted but warned him not to let Byletta go. That somehow had whipped up an indescribable feeling within Arnald. Apparently, he was incapable of accepting his father’s guidance when it came to his own wife.
Unable to quell the emotion he was feeling, Arnald had gone to his old room. It had been eight years since he’d stepped foot inside, but the space felt unchanged, like it had been quietly awaiting his return ever since he’d left for war. There was no dust to speak of, indicating it was still regularly cleaned, but everything was as he had left it when he’d departed. The only thing out of place was the stuffiness in the air that indicated just how long he had been away.
Once Arnald opened the window at the front of the room, a refreshing morning breeze filled the space.
His attention was suddenly drawn to the desk. There lay a luxurious-looking folder with a faded white cover, filled with the personal details and family charts of his match. It had originally been a brilliant white, so its current shade betrayed just how much time it had been sitting there.
“So this is where it was.”
Arnald had never so much as looked inside. He’d long forgotten even receiving the folder. But since it was in this room, he must have received it before he’d left for the front. For the first time in eight years, Arnald took it in his hands and flipped open the cover.
Looking back at him was the portrait of a young woman sitting in a chair wearing a feminine pale-blue dress. She had fierce amethyst eyes and a spirited smile on her face, which was framed by cascades of long strawberry-blond hair that looked soft to the touch. Her smile was quite daring for a portrait intended for an arranged marriage.
Arnald couldn’t help giving a wry smile himself.
Just from her portrait, he could tell that the wife whose face he’d never seen before the previous night appeared to fill all the requirements he’d so casually come up with.
The voluptuous body she’d revealed to him under the moonlight was a far cry from the one in the portrait, but perhaps that impression would change once he saw her in the light of day?
He wished that he had looked at the portrait and met the real Byletta sooner, but he could easily imagine that it wouldn’t have changed the feelings of the man he’d been back then. He’d never had the slightest bit of interest in anyone before.
“What else are you hiding from me?” Arnald murmured at the portrait absentmindedly. His impression of Byletta had changed so many times in just one night. Where he thought he’d find a temptress, he’d found chastity. Where he thought he’d find willfulness, he’d found submission. It was only natural that she let him lead for her first time, but since he’d believed it all to be an act, he’d been impressed with how skillfully she’d portrayed apprehension. Now, he felt pathetic.
His entire family seemed to treasure Byletta. His father was hoping that Arnald could get her to stay. His sister was devoted to her. And Cynthia seemed to truly care about her.
What kind of person is my wife…? Arnald wondered. Even he was taken aback by the feelings stirring within him.
That’s when he decided he would need to revise his plan. At first, he thought he’d be satisfied by slowly taking revenge on her over a whole month, but now he knew it would be impossible to get to know everything he wanted to about her in such a short time frame. The thought of letting her go only filled him with regret, so an overhaul of his entire scheme would be necessary. The intended outcome was now the opposite of his original intention, so he needed to ensure he got the result he wanted.
Arnald had never been close to anyone before, so the inner workings of people’s emotions were still a mystery to him. Given that he was so out of tune with his own emotions, that was only natural.
Honestly, he found it much easier to read the thoughts of an enemy combatant, but that was only because he’d memorized how the events of past battles had unfolded. The only things that ever changed were times and locations—they always tended to play out the same. Arnald was excellent at absorbing such information from books, and he’d used the knowledge he’d gained to analyze the actions of his enemies and predict their next moves. He was also quite good at observing the people around him and drawing information from that.
It was a skill he’d cultivated back when he’d been doing his best to care for his dying mother when he was a boy.
“This will be just like quashing a riot. Or perhaps more like launching a siege.”
Arnald was fully mobilizing all of his experience.
When trying to lay a siege, you wanted three times more military might than the enemy. You also needed to cut supply lines and prevent reinforcements from attacking you from behind.
How much military might did Byletta have? Who would be her reinforcements?
As Arnald mulled over tactics, he realized that he had no direct knowledge of the woman. He’d need to gather information about her upbringing and past actions himself, as a number of the reports he’d received appeared to consist of nothing more than falsehoods or conjecture, sprinkled with tidbits of gossip. Before he began anything else, he would have to get to know her.
“And even before that, I have to write a contract… Now, how do I make it most advantageous to me?”
Arnald had then drawn up the contract and gotten his wife to sign it, but he’d wanted to make sure she stuck to her end of the agreement. The timing happened to coincide with when she’d informed him of her upcoming trip to inspect the Swangan estate. It had been the perfect opportunity, so he’d decided to accompany her in an attempt to uncover more about her true self.
What was the true personality of this woman who was rumored to be a ruthless seductress?
And why was she being dragged on inspections of the estate in the first place? At first, he’d believed it was a romantic getaway for her and his father. All he could think was that they’d been busy indulging in sex and other vulgarities away from the prying eyes of his father’s wife in the capital. But when he’d accompanied her, he’d been shocked to find that she acted more like the lord than his father did.
She’d devoured the estate reports, inspected the local landscape, and set future countermeasures in place.
It wouldn’t have been going too far to say that if she hadn’t been there, the Swangan’s country estate would have fallen into ruin. Arnald had had no idea that his father had abandoned his duties to such a degree. He’d also had no idea how cunning his wife was.
Her skills were incredible.
To turn the tables in your favor on the battlefield, information was crucial. And not just basic information like the size of your opponent’s army—your knowledge needed to encompass a whole host of topics, including the geography of the region, its climate, and how the current situation had come to be. You needed to scrutinize the thinking of the enemy commander and their favorite battle strategies. Only then was it time to assemble information like puzzle pieces to derive the optimal solution. Arnald had a very good memory. He’d memorized battle strategies and tactics recorded throughout history. His tactical nature was another reason they called him a fox.
And despite that, his wife’s analytical mind and talent for accumulating information still astounded him.
She was so capable that she’d make a great addition to his unit.
At the end of the estate inspection, they’d planned to neutralize the thieves who had been stealing their grain. Yet for something that had appeared to be simple tax evasion or theft on the surface, it had been a far more complex situation, even involving neighboring countries. When Arnald had first heard that Bardu was involved, something hadn’t sat right with him. But upon hearing of his father’s indifference to the estate’s troubles, he’d understood. And he hadn’t been able to stop himself from sympathizing with the leader of the thieves after hearing more about their circumstances.
But what left the largest impression on him was the depth of Byletta’s ingenuity.
Even if her uncle had given her some of the information, she’d still been able to deduce a fair amount by questioning the local villagers—enough, at least, to drive the thieves into launching a surprise attack. It was like everyone was under her spell, dancing in the palm of her hand like marionettes, but the way it all worked was actually very clever.
Now, his need to find out more about her had become insatiable.
The only thing she’d ever been careless about was the letter she’d sent him notifying him of her intention to divorce, which meant that she couldn’t have placed that much importance on it.