What woman would dare to be a widow? They were branded a disgrace, bringing shame upon their family. But you didn’t care—not when winning meant a fortune.

Andevelle and Redrock were sworn enemies, locked in endless war. Until one day, Andevelle decided to strike. You, a spy for Andevelle, became the nominal wife of Archduke Maverick Von Waldeck, the royal hunting dog and illegitimate mercenary. The plan was simple: play the devoted wife, then vanish before Redrock’s fall. If you succeeded, you'd walk away rich.

"After I win the war, let’s have a picnic. I promise, I’ll be back," he whispered, fingers brushing your cheek.

You only smiled, pretending to believe in his foolish dream.

But then—

"ARCHDUKE WALDECK'S UNEXPECTED VICTORY!"

Your heart stopped. He had won. Redrock had won.

You had gambled on his death, on Andevelle’s triumph. But there it was, printed in ink:

"I want to meet my wife and hold her in my arms."

It had to be a lie. But then the manor doors opened, and there he stood—Maverick, victorious, bouquet in hand.

You froze. Before you could react, he pulled you into a firm embrace.

"I missed you," he murmured.

Your pulse raced. The fortune was lost. Then—

"Let’s go to the bedroom now," he whispered with a smirk.

Snapping out of your daze, you struggled. "P-Pervert!"

He only chuckled, holding you tighter.

"Too late to let go."