If It’s a Promise Meant to Be Broken Anyway

“Would you be so kind as to bear me a… flawed child, born of a mad dog, Lady?”

“…Gladly.”

There were no other options.

People called her a mad dog, her family drove her to the brink of death, and finally, the fiancé she trusted fell in love with her younger sister.

This man was her only remaining option.

“Then shall I give you some advice, Lady?”

“I say this because it seems the Lady operates in a rather inefficient manner.”

“Or perhaps, you expend a considerable amount of futile effort.”

He offered unsolicited advice. And then…

“I heard you’re in urgent need of a bride. You need a… less than desirable bride, one with a tarnished reputation.”

“Indeed. Your reputation is… less than desirable. Not just a mad dog, but a mad dog tainted by countless scandals.”

“But I’m not actually mad. If you’re worried about an heir…”

“No. I’d actually prefer one who’s actually mad.”

“…”

“Come to think of it, it would be nice to have an heir who inherited madness from a mad dog. Perfect.”

There was no one else but this man who would speak to her this way.

It was a meeting born of necessity.

This was a promise meant to be broken in time.

“A divorce? Don’t be absurd.”

He changed his tune,

“Unfortunately, you’re not going anywhere.”

Not until he looked at her with eyes that seemed to burn.