A Mastermind? No, I'm just the Live-In Son-in-Law-Chapter 9: The Live-In Son-in-Law (2)

The duke isn’t powerless in that process, though. He is allowed to set one rule that all candidates must follow during the ceremony. Officially, it’s to prevent emotional bias and reinforce the duke’s authority. In practice? It’s Game of Thrones-level chaos.

Still, it’s a tradition that’s lasted since the founding of the Empire. There's a reason they’ve stuck with it all this time.

The real issue is the rule the current Duke—who despises Meredia—chose: “The successor must be married.”

Naturally, this rule didn’t pose any problems for the male candidates. But for Meredia, it was a disaster. Under imperial law, marrying into another house could mean being absorbed by her husband’s title—a catastrophic setback for her ambitions.

And right after the duke announced that rule, dozens of idiotic suitors started bombarding her with proposals. Her incoming mail quintupled overnight. Enough said.

There was, however, one loophole—taking a husband who married into her house as a live-in son-in-law.

Of course, no noble above a count would dare risk such a position, knowing they could be discarded like pawns at any moment.

And marrying down, say to a baron or viscount, would tarnish Meredia’s reputation too severely. Even if she tried using threats to force a mid-level noble into becoming a puppet, the Empire’s aristocracy was so obsessed with status and appearance that it would likely backfire.

“If the rule had just said ‘women can’t inherit,’ at least I could’ve openly protested it. But no. This is even more insidious.”

It really was classic Duke Embergreen—underhanded and self-serving. He didn’t want Meredia to win, but still wanted to keep up appearances. So he rigged the game just enough to ruin her chances.

“But if you accept my offer, all those problems vanish in an instant.”

“Hm.”

“Oh, and I’ll prepare a pre-arranged clause giving you cause for divorce. That way, if you want to dissolve the marriage later, you’ll suffer minimal political damage.”

Yeah, I was sure the Duke never anticipated someone like me would show up.

If things went my way, Meredia would instantly resolve her biggest issue—and gain a contract groom with moderate fame, decent status, and enough foresight to even engineer his own exit strategy.

“A convenient husband. And what do you get out of this?”

“Simple. Safety—for myself and my family.”

And the price for me? Just marrying her for a little while.

No doubt I was the only fool desperate enough to take that deal.

Not that I wanted to get involved with the ducal house. But after combing through the Ringaarden family’s financial situation over the last week, I didn’t have a choice. Practically our entire estate was mortgaged to some shady merchant groups for joint investments.

If my engagement to Meredia fell through, investors would pull out instantly. Creditors would show up with wide eyes and hungry grins, and my sister and I would be dragged out of the estate in shackles.

What the hell was my father thinking, setting up contracts like that and then vanishing?

Maybe he has his reasons...

Anyway, if my reckless proposal could also solve Meredia’s crisis...

“Hah. Fine. I’ll believe you—for now.”

As I let out a quiet sigh, Meredia chuckled again, resting her chin on her hand as her voice softened.

“You’re suspicious as hell, but I can tell you’re not some idiot blinded by my status or beauty.”

Hearing her say that made me think maybe... just maybe there was hope.

“I’ve had it with those types.”

“Well, I mean, I am sort of enamored with you...”

“But for now, let’s stick with an engagement, not marriage.”

Of course. Just as I started to mutter something in mock disappointment, Meredia cut in. But her words? Unexpectedly welcome.

“That’s fine with me.”

It wasn’t marriage, but an engagement was still enough to stabilize things. Sure, it meant there’d be a ticking clock until we’d inevitably break it off, but at least I wouldn’t go down in flames today.

“For now, I’ll add one more condition.”

“...Huh?”

“Nothing major. Just help me deal with something that’s been bothering me lately.”

Her sudden change of tone doused my brief optimism with a bucket of ice water.

It wasn’t that I doubted her sincerity—but when someone like Meredia said something “bothered” her, it usually meant a mess was incoming.

“I want you to attend the Crown Prince’s engagement ceremony with me—and match me in dignity.”

“...What?”

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

The moment I heard that, my vision dimmed. My brain stopped processing.

“That idiot—he still thinks I’m in love with him, for whatever reason. Sent me a wedding invitation like it was some kind of victory letter.”

“Ah...”

“And after reading that smug, condescending greeting on the card, I just couldn’t let it go.”

Unfortunately, I hadn’t misheard her.

“So if you’re my fiancé, naturally you’ll help me get my revenge, right?”

“...I’m so screwed.”

It wasn’t that surprising, really. Getting revenge on the Crown Prince with Meredia was practically expected now that I was on her side.

Still, I reacted like that for a reason.

Because the Crown Prince’s engagement ceremony... is the game’s tutorial.

And in every route, it ends with the protagonist—the player—winning.

That means, in the prologue, I’m siding with the final boss—and we’re guaranteed to lose.

The kicker? I was the one who would probably suffer all the fallout. Not Meredia.

“What? Not interested?”

“Ahaha...”

I thought I’d finally caught a break—but no.

Now it just felt like the sky was falling all over again.

***

“Well, it’s not like I’m forcing you.”

The first time Meredia saw Whitney’s smile falter, she smiled in deep satisfaction. Rising gracefully from her seat, she added in a light, casual tone:

“If you don’t want to, you’re free to back out.”

That smile stayed fixed on her face even as she stepped over the maids still sprawled across the grass and headed for the garden exit.

“A man who can’t take on even that much of a gamble has no right to stand beside me.”

Maybe it had been too long since someone dared to challenge her. Or maybe, without realizing it, she’d taken a liking to this man in a way she never intended.

Don’t tell me you’re going to give up now, Whitney.

Her gaze lingered subtly behind her as her footsteps slowly began to slow.

“Wait.”

Right as her pace began to drag—

“When did I say I didn’t want to?”

The voice, now familiar, vibrant, and confidently lively, drifted into her ear.

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“That’s more like it.”

“But,” Whitney continued, “I’d like to attach a condition of my own.”

Meredia stopped, smiling in satisfaction—only for that smile to twitch faintly at his unexpected follow-up.

“If I successfully help you carry out your plan, would you grant me one small wish in return?”

Her face twisted slightly.

“Making a blank check request for something like this? You’re quite greedy.”

“You’re free to refuse, of course.”

Whitney still wore that ever-friendly smile. And yet to Meredia’s eyes, it somehow looked... cold. As if that gentle curve was masking a blade.

“I don’t usually insist if someone says no.”

“And if things go wrong, it’s not like I’m in any position to harm you, right?”

“Huh.”

For the first time, words that even slightly resembled a threat slipped from his lips. Meredia’s mouth curled upward in a smile.

So that wasn’t just talk, after all.

But despite her smile, it had been a long time since Meredia felt a genuine twinge of tension.

She had finally, truly seen the source of the unsettling presence she’d sensed in Whitney from the beginning.

If it were just arrogance, he wouldn’t have been able to withstand my aura head-on.

In her jewel-like eyes, she could see it now—gray wisps of energy rising faintly around Whitney’s body like heat haze.

“Fine. Give and take, then.”

“Couldn’t agree more.”

Part of her wanted to press him further—to see how deep that mysterious energy went. But for now, Meredia’s logic still outweighed her instincts.

“Of course, I’ll refuse any wish that’s out of bounds. It’s better for both of us to respect the line.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t ask for anything unreasonable.”

As her agreement left her lips, Whitney’s smile deepened, just slightly.

“After all... I do like you, Lady Meredia.”

“Hmph. You really are hopeless at jokes.”

And that strange, strangely matched exchange—they looked oddly perfect together.

“You’re a lot like me, in that way.”

“Yes, well... if you wouldn’t mind leaving now, that would be great.”

To Whitney, who had once again started silently chanting defensive spells in his head in case another curse flew his way, her words might have felt rather unfair.

***

Several dozen minutes later—

Having left the garden behind, Meredia arrived at the estate’s front gates. Just before stepping into the carriage that had been waiting for her, she paused.

He’s no ordinary man.

Her face, now cold and composed, had shifted from the amused playfulness she’d shown in the garden.

He stood firm against my pressure...

Lunelle was one thing. She had grit her teeth and fought to stand her ground. But Whitney had taken everything she threw at him—without even blinking.

And that wasn’t something you could explain away with a few spells or strong nerves. No, the killing intent she had released earlier wasn’t just aura—it had been layered with her unique mana.

The kind of aura that should have reduced most people to twitching wrecks. Only a handful across the entire continent, beyond even the Empire, could have stood against it.

And yet... he didn’t even flinch.

Eyes perpetually half-lidded—open or closed, who could say—he hadn’t moved a muscle.

And that presence from earlier...

Each time Whitney had reacted emotionally—when Lunelle challenged her, when Meredia herself turned to leave—she’d felt it.

A subtle pulse. That gray energy around him surged outward each time.

Not poisonous. Not malicious. Just—wrong. A suffocating, deathly stillness that chilled the soul.

Not something that should go unnoticed by those around him—unless Whitney himself was deliberately suppressing it.

So what would’ve happened if he had fought back with full force, the way I did?

That thought alone made a shiver run down her spine.

Looks like I’ll need to investigate further.

Whitney Ringaarden. There was definitely something there.

She didn’t know what it was yet—but one thing was certain. He possessed a latent potential at least on par with her own.

“And of course, I’ll still have to keep my guard up...”

Walking slowly, Meredia suddenly stopped, her gem-like eyes flashing coldly.

—CRACK!

There was a sharp, brittle sound. Something in the tree beside her shuddered—and shot skyward.

It flapped frantically, trying to escape, but as soon as Meredia locked eyes on it, it lost strength and plummeted to the ground.

A crystal dove—a magically carved artifact—landed with a dull thud at her feet, cracked.

“...So His Majesty’s also keeping an eye on things, is he?”

Meredia gazed down at the shattered dove, her smile cold as ice.

The mana inside it was unmistakable. She was more than familiar with the person who had sent it—someone she now regarded with just as much wariness as her own father, the Duke of Embergreen.

“I suppose I’ll be keeping him close for now.”

Still smiling, she crushed the crystal dove beneath her heel and turned toward her carriage, murmuring softly:

“I’ll have to make sure my husband’s leash is extra short, Whitney Ringaarden.”

Of course, if Whitney—still sitting in the garden, clutching his head—had heard her, he would’ve found the comment wildly unfair.