I finished my feast, and Ren politely cleared the table and wheeled the food cart away. Noticing a sofa in the room, I walked over and sat down to relax.
"Ria," I thought, "Based on my memories, my wife—the Baroness's daughter—has an incredibly cold personality. There's no real relationship between us at all!"
[That is correct, my Lord,] Ria replied. [Lady Eliot looks down on you, and she can hardly be blamed.
Her father was a mere commoner who achieved enough to earn the title of Baron and was on the verge of becoming a Count.
Think of it this way: she is his daughter, and she learned from him how to climb the social ladder higher and higher.
Even among the noble circles, she is considered an exceptional woman.
Only to end up as the wife of a foolish king—a man with no intellect, driven only by lust, and on top of that... a man losing his throne. From a neutral perspective, it is a truly tragic end.]
"I see. She has her reasons," I muttered. "But is this coldness directed only at me?"
[Yes and no... her personality is naturally cold and strong. However, the previous owner of this body embodied every single trait she despises, which made her act even more hostiley toward you.]
"Understood. So, what's the best way to break this ice? I don't like being hated by a beautiful woman, especially when she's my wife."
[There are several ways. The simplest would be brainwashing or mental control. I could also forge or erase her memories, though I wouldn't recommend it.]
I frowned. "Why? Are there some sort of cursed restrictions or exaggerated consequences?"
[No,] Ria replied flatly. [It's just... not fun.]
"Huh? What are you talking about?"
[Think about it, Master. I am certain you want her to cling to you, to love you to the point of madness.
But if you simply control her mind, you've skipped straight to the result. You didn't achieve it yourself.
Tell me, would you play a dating sim if all the girls were already unlocked with a maximum affection meter?]
I laughed. "Ria, you're a genius. You're right, that would be boring. So, what do I do? How do I approach her the right way?"
[As I mentioned, she hates useless men. But this version of you, Master, is everything she could ever desire.
In fact, you are the living embodiment of her dream man. You just need to let her realize that. Once she does, you'll find her melting for you with no turning back.]
"I get it... Ria, you should work in marketing. Your pitches are top-tier."
She replied proudly, [That is nothing, Master.]
Time passed. I spent some time walking through the palace to explore this new world, and when night fell, I slept with a sense of peace I hadn't felt in a long time.
Morning came, and things began to move. Drawing on the previous owner's memories,
I headed to my office and began reviewing the state of our affairs in the Baron's sector. The problems looked like the end of the world.
The Baronial lands were in poor shape, and the main reason they had agreed to this marriage was that they had lost nearly everything in a recent battle against armed insurgents; they were clinging to a final thread of hope.
It wasn't that they were incompetent—the Baroness is a great warrior and her daughter is brilliant—but two people cannot protect a territory that the rest of the nation has secretly conspired to dismantle.
I sat there for hours. One day passed, then several, then an entire week. The problems were overwhelming and required definitive solutions, so Ria and I spent all our time buried in work. I wanted to continue, but I was interrupted by the guard's voice from outside:
"My Lord, Lady Eliot wishes to see you."
"Eliot, my wife... what do you think, Ria?"
[It's fine. We can return to work later. Besides... wouldn't it be refreshing to see a beautiful woman?]
I gave her permission to enter. The door opened, and Eliot walked in with perfect noble poise.
Her blonde hair was tied back in an elegant bun, her deep blue eyes were sharp, and her skin was flawless. She walked with grace and a calm, analytical expression, performing a classic noble curtsy.
"My Lord, I heard you have locked yourself in here for an entire week... is your health alright?" she asked in a cold, emotionless voice.
It felt more like a reproach than genuine concern. Her tone seemed to say: *I hope you haven't ruined anything else; I don't have the energy to clean up after you.
"I'm fine," I explained. "The servants brought food regularly, and I used the office washroom when needed. How may I help you?"
She looked at me with a hint of surprise—perhaps politeness wasn't a trait she associated with me. She walked over and sat in the chair opposite my desk.
"I know you aren't interested, but this is still your responsibility," she said. "The knight captains will be gathering to pay their respects to you.
I hope you can excuse their delay; everyone has been extremely busy, especially given the current situation."
She glanced at the desk piled high with papers and asked, "Did you do all of this, my Lord?"
"Yes," I replied curtly.
She averted her eyes and stood up. "Then tomorrow, please. The servants will remind you." With that, she took her leave.
I leaned back in my chair. "Ria, can you tell what she was thinking?"
[Certainly. She was annoyed by the idea that you might be making things more complicated for her. In the end, all your work passes through her hands.
When she saw the sheer volume of paperwork, her annoyance spiked, which is why she left so quickly.
In fact, the only reason she came was to stop you from working; she used the knight's meeting as an excuse to get you out of the office.
To be honest, Master, I don't blame her. Considering the nonsense the previous owner put her through, I actually pity the poor girl.]
"I hear you, but she really is beautiful—even more than in my memories. Tell me more about her."
[Eliot Arsan. She was three years old when she became a noble. She lived in wealth before facing the ugliness of high society,
which constantly mocked her commoner blood. Her father died a year later from the stress and illness of their new life, leaving her with her mother, a fierce warrior
. Her mother could not accept her husband's death and spent most of her time at war, leaving Eliot to grow up alone in the noble social circles.
To survive, she taught herself how to fight—not with swords, but with cunning and efficiency.
It is no exaggeration to say she runs the entire Barony while her mother is away at war.
She is now 26 years old, married to a king struggling to reclaim his throne.]
"Whoa," I thought. "Absolute cinema."