Chapter 3

Lowell had been forced to sit for 47 hours straight. He finally gave in, and shouted for Violet to do whatever she wanted before heading to his bedroom. Violet also stepped out of the conference room. Cigar stubs and empty bottles of wine littered the table.

Violet felt sorry for having taxed Winter’s body like this, but she supposed that he’d probably like that the contract had gone as planned—he loved money so much he couldn't spare a single day to spend with his wife, after all.

Violet handed the contract with Lowell's seal on it to Hayell. All the terms in it were favorable towards Conic, Winter's company.

Hayell looked completely baffled.

“What in the world happened to you?”

“I’m sorry, but I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Violet was already half asleep, having drunk and smoked for over 47 hours straight. She headed to the bedroom immediately.

Hayell followed her in, but she was too tired to care. As soon as Hayell closed the blinds and the room grew a bit darker, Violet fell asleep with a huge feeling of satisfaction. If this was what going crazy felt like, she could handle a little more crazy.

* * *

Winter Blooming, for the first time in his life, found it hard to get up in the morning. He knew immediately that this body wasn't his own.

“Damn, what the hell....”

He stiffly propped himself up. He realized from his surroundings and his voice that this was his wife's body. He tutted and adjusted to the room.

Winter had once been enslaved by some dwarves in a damned dwarf village for a whole month, and even kidnapped by a lunatic wizard lady who performed experiments on him. This new situation didn’t faze him in the slightest. His enemies were too many to count.

The bell rope must be defective. No maid appeared no matter how many times he pulled. Winter was short-tempered. He got off the bed and felt an empty champagne bottle and pill bottle at his feet. He’d always thought his wife to be an elegant princess. Turned out she wasn't so unlike him.

He opened the door and stepped out, trying to find someone. His body trembled all over.

“What kind of shit body is this?”

Winter swore, swayed, and collapsed onto the floor. His head ached so much that he found it difficult to even walk, but his body obstinately called for coffee and forced him to crawl down the stairs.

He’d been in the middle of negotiations when he'd suddenly ended up in her body. He didn't care about the state of this body. He had to return to the hotel and finalize the contract with the damned asshole from the Vaidellin Mountains. If his wife was in his body, there was no telling what she'd do. She'd been a princess, and pampered like one. She wouldn't know what to do.

He struggled down the stairs when he ran into the doctor of House Blooming, Rickman. He'd been the doctor for the house before Winter had even joined.

Rickman had ignored him in the early days for being an illegitimate child, and Winter had returned the favor ever since. Right now, however, he was happy to see someone with a doctor's credentials.

“Rickman! Great timing. I need your help. Give me a checkup.”

“What? Alright.”

Rickman seemed taken aback at Violet's unusual welcome. He followed her into the bedroom.

Winter collapsed on the sheets, head propped up on a bed, and said in a commanding tone, “I have a severe headache. Find out immediately what the cause is.”

“As I told you yesterday, there is nothing the matter with you, Little Mistress.”

“Of course there is. My body feels like shit.”

“Li-little Mistress, you shouldn't talk like that.”

Rickman began to inspect her anyway.

After Violet had disappeared from the party without so much as a greeting, Duke Blooming and his wife (along with their heir, Diev) had been fuming with indignation. Which probably meant Violet wanted a sure card out of the situation with a sick diagnosis.

Rickman put next to no effort into his inspection and grumbled.

“How long are you going to keep up this farce? Princess or no, such nonsense isn’t... Li-little Mistress!”

Rickman stopped talking. Winter grabbed him by the collar and growled into his face.

“I told you I am ill,” he spat. “Who the hell made a crackpot like you a doctor so I have to put up with this bullshit this early in the morning, I wonder?”

The “I wonder?” part he added as an afterthought, supposing that Violet would probably have used a similar selection of words.

If he was his usual self, he'd have thrown the doctor to the floor; with his current weak body, though, there was no chance of that happening. Winter repressed his seething anger at being unable to overcome even this spineless doctor.

“You do realize that your pay comes from my coffers, right?”

“They aren’t y-your coffers, they’re Master Winter's!”

“We are a married couple,” Winter shot back. “The money belongs to both of us.”

“Well....”

“So unless you fancy getting yourself a new job, you say what I want to hear. Understood?”

Rickman was fuming. The outrage! A woman had grabbed his collar. He straightened it out as soon as she let go.

Winter gestured for him to follow. He left Violet’s bedroom and walked to his own. As soon as he went in, his favorite servant, Flip, was sweeping the floor. He bowed.

“What is it, Little Mistress?”

“Yes, you. I have business in the capital.”

Winter swayed again, the pain in his head getting the better of him. Flip, surprised, reached out to support him. At the last minute, he thought better of it and backed away. Winter supported himself on the bed.

“Never mind, bring me coffee,” Winter requested. “Piping hot.”

“Yes, Little Mistress..”

“And massage my feet.”

“Wh-what?”

Flip's eyes bulged, but he left the bedroom to get the coffee he’d been told to get. Rickman twitched from afar when he saw Winter opening the safe.

He was the eyes and ears of Catherine Blooming while staying with Violet and Winter on their property. Rickman had seen the couple’s relationship deteriorate with the passage of time. And seeing Violet open the safe was shocking.

Money was life itself to Winter. Winter was the sort of man who’d kill for money, and be proud of it afterwards. The fact that such a man had given the password to his safe to his wife meant he trusted her with his life. The change in Violet’s attitude, and the fact that she knew the password to the safe, were new facts that needed to be taken into consideration.

Winter didn't care that Rickman saw. He brought out a bundle of bills, forced them into Rickman's pocket, and fell back onto the bed. He spoke to Rickman, who watched on with round eyes, again as if coaching a child.

“Now, Rickman. What did I say earlier?”

“You told me to say only what you wanted to hear, Little Mistress!”

“I need to get to the capital immediately. Do whatever you need to. If I so much as faint on the way, I’—no, my husband—will snap your neck.”

Winter was going to fire him anyway once he got his body back, but right now he needed this doctor’s help.

He’d just said a few angry words and his head was already spinning. Thankfully, Flip returned with coffee and sugar. Winter loaded the coffee with sugar and downed it in one go. Rickman finished his diagnosis and left to make some medicine.

Moments later, Flip returned with a bowl of warm water.

Winter sat on the edge of the bed and pointed to his feet with his chin. Flip, looking confused, kneeled. He took Little Mistress’ small, white feet in his hands, dipped them in the water, and began to massage them slowly.

Flip didn't put any strength into his hands, and Winter said irritably, “Have you gone senile?”

“Mi-mistress? Ah... If I massage any harder, it will hurt.”

“The hell it—”

Winter was about to kick the bowl away when his eyes felll on Flip's hands.

It was a very strange sight. Flip, red to his ears, was unable to lift his head. Fearing he'd hurt his mistress if he massaged too hard, he was faltering and finding it hard to even grip the feet properly. It was Winter in this body, of course, but Flip didn't know that.

Winter lowered his voice.

“...Get out. Don't ever come near me again.”

“Th-thank you, Mistress!”

Flip replied in a loud voice Winter had never heard from him before, and dashed out of the room with the bowl of water.

Winter tutted and ruffled his hair irritably. He paused. He turned to the mirror and noticed that her hair had been cut to shoulder length. He stared into the mirror and muttered.

“...Finally cut her hair, I see.”

He remembered his conversation with Violet last winter.

The days had grown shorter, and Winter stayed at home for four whole days, which was rare. The day before Winter left for the capital, Violet had asked him a question over dinner.

“Is my hair too long?”

Winter looked at her, and Violet was touching her hair shyly.

“Should I... cut it? It’d be a nice change of air, I think.”

“Do as you like.”

His wife was wont to ask him silly questions like that. Her hair was her own. What was there to ask his opinion about? Winter didn’t ask other people about such matters.

The gentle smile that had appeared on Violet's face, the first in a long while, had vanished. And that had been the end of the conversation. She must have changed her mind after that, because she didn't cut her hair. She didn't ask him any further questions, either.

Winter remembered how her expression had changed that day. She must have found something about his answer hurtful, but he couldn’t figure out what it was. Was he supposed to have told her not to cut it? Or that she should? Women were riddles.

A maid brought him his medicine and some water. Winter took the medicine and fell into a deep slumber. He'd been asleep for quite a while, and his headache had all but vanished thanks to the medicine. A knock woke him up.

“Violet.”

“Come in, “Winter replied in a drowsy voice. He’d heard his brother Diev's voice.

Diev had come to Violet upset; when Violet allowed him into her bedroom for some reason, a smile returned to his face.

“I heard you've been sleeping a lot,” Diev said. “Rickman tells me that you aren't feigning this time.”

“I... am sick. Very much.”

“Did you eat?”

“I can't.”

Diev’s grin did not disappear. Winter wondered if this was indeed the same half-brother of his that Winter snubbed whenever he had the chance. The same brother who was forced to suck up to him anyway (unwillingly) to get money from him.

Winter found the smile disgusting.

“Please just go and bring some alcohol.”

Diev burst into laughter and left the room. Winter lay back, thinking Diev wouldn’t actually bring anything. Diev soon returned, however, with a cup of wine that had a mint leaf floating in it.

“No alcohol. Drink some water,” he said quietly before leaving the room.

Winter's scowled when his brother left. Had Diev and his wife always been this close? Though he supposed he’d have no way of knowing if anything had happened between them, as he’d seldom come home while he was trying to rebuild his company from the brink of ruin.

Winter's insides churned with anger, but the medicines were doing their work and he found it hard to even prop himself up. He finally felt strong enough to get up after a long sleep. So, he got on a train to the capital.