A Stranger Wearing the Name of Your Wife - Chapter 3

We arrived at the town near the border without any big problems. The town, which prospers thanks to the nearby border, was lively. Merchants’ wagons loaded with goods lined up in a queue, while soldiers guarded those who passed quickly by. We wouldn’t rest in this town. I wanted to cross the Richter Empire’s border as soon as possible.

I was surprised to see a carriage with a familiar crest, but I looked away. There was no need to check who was inside. I moved away from the window, and my older brother Fort noticed. With his sharp eyes, he pulled the thin silk curtain shut. Now they shouldn’t be able to see us from outside.

“Someone you know?”

“Yes, that crest belongs to the Ronan Viscount family.”

It was helpful that he understood with just that. Maurice—the man I once believed was my husband—belonged to that family, a vassal of the Duke of Stuart. In the Kingdom of Addison, the old vassal-lord system still existed. In the Richter Empire, this would be called a main family and a branch family. When the Duke’s family rose in status, the Ronan became one of their assigned vassals.

“I doubt they can see us…”

Should we take action? Unlike our charismatic eldest brother or our clever second brother, Fort—the youngest—was not good at thinking things through. Even so, he always chose the best path, as if by instinct.

He signaled from the window and gave his men instructions: to watch whether the Ronan family’s carriage crossed the border. If they turned back, there might be a small “trouble,” he said. In other words, he was telling them to delay them without making it obvious.

“There’s no need to go that far.”

The border was right in front of us. When I smiled gently, Fort looked serious and shook his head.

“I have a bad feeling. You know my instincts are usually right, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do. If you feel uneasy, then taking action is the best choice.”

My youngest brother grinned and kept glancing at the window. Outside was his beloved horse. Since the curtain was drawn, the horse couldn’t see his face and tried to peek inside. I gently stroked the horse’s cheek and told it to move back because it was dangerous.

“Fort, once we cross the border, I’ll take a short nap.”

So maybe you could go outside and ride your horse? I didn’t say the words aloud, but he understood and gave a troubled smile while scratching his cheek with his finger.

“Got it. Thanks.”

His casual way of speaking was because he had spent so much time on the battlefield. Fort, who was the Marshal of the Richter Empire’s army, had always been on the front lines. With unmatched strength and an easygoing personality, he was very popular in the military. His bright red hair, which stood out in normal times, seemed to blend into the battlefield like camouflage. He was someone born to fight.

More people called him Marshal than by his noble title, Duke Edelstein. As the supreme commander of the national army, he looked happily at his beloved horse.

“Marshal, we are passing through the border gate.”

“Understood.”

The carriage rocked roughly from side to side as it was given top priority and crossed the border. After we entered the Richter Empire, the carriage soon came to a stop. In my arms, Ingrid, who had been sleeping, let out a cute little sound, “Abuu.”

“We’ve arrived at your hometown. Let’s live happily with your mother.”

In response, my daughter moved her little hands excitedly. I smiled brightly at her.