NOMAMWTM Chapter 5

In all likelihood, they're familiars.

And Michael Cardium must be a very unfortunate man.

Sitting at a tea table in the sunny garden, Charlotte sipped warm tea and came to her conclusion.

Three days had already passed since the memorable wedding ceremony, and she was figuring out and adapting to Cardium Estate, her new home.

First of all, surprisingly, Michael Cardium was a mage.

He used magic very naturally, and Cardium Estate was filled entirely with golden magical energy.

It was a curious thing.

The only mages living in the Empire were the five Imperial mages, and the Imperial family only 'recognized' them.

Charlotte's mother, Lillian, had lived with Charlotte in a cottage in the countryside, hiding from people's eyes until her death to avoid being caught as a mage.

Furthermore, a barrier had been cast over the entire estate grounds, perhaps for concealment—to think there was an estate so freely and boldly filled with magic.

Charlotte was taking a sip of tea when a small, round black mass rolled around until it was about to fall off the table, so she stopped it with a flick of her finger.

The eyeballs embedded in the thumb-sized mass rolled appreciatively.

Because Michael was a mage, she'd been able to quickly identify these small masses she'd initially mistaken for ghosts.

Familiars.

The mystical creatures that every mage possesses as soul companions, which her mother had also kept.

When she'd been left alone after the wedding ritual, she'd wondered why she felt that familiar energy—it was because these were familiars.

Their identity was so simple and clear, it was ridiculous that she'd almost fainted from fear.

Charlotte watched the masses gathering around the table in clusters, then turned her head.

Michael sat beside her, reading a book.

Warm sunlight sparkled on his platinum hair and long lashes.

Her eyes momentarily grew hazy.

Though they had separate bedrooms, her husband who'd spent time by her side for two whole days was, as always, unrealistically beautiful.

"Is something troubling you?"

When Michael looked up and asked, apparently sensing her gaze, Charlotte—who'd been blankly admiring him—snapped to attention with a start.

"No."

Her face flushed.

Her happiness, which had briefly wavered upon seeing the masses filling every corner of the estate, had grown uncontrollably after learning their identity.

When she'd lived with her mother in that cramped cottage room, then locked in her room at Baron Ethel's estate.

She was already joyful just to have gained the freedom she'd so desperately craved, but she'd even gotten a beautiful husband like Michael.

Not just beautiful either.

According to Maria, in the worst case with this kind of marriage, you could end up with a man who ignored his wife and kept mistresses everywhere.

But far from treating her like she didn't exist, he stayed with her constantly.

Her new home, Cardium Estate, was incomparably vast and luxurious compared to the Baron Ethel estate she'd glimpsed over someone's shoulder.

Though it was still a bit frightening when the masses swarmed together, Charlotte took pride in thinking that among people married off like goods—no, even among people who married normally—no one could be as lucky as her.

Crash!

"...S-sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! P-please spare me, hic, I'm sorry...!"

...Ah, of course, not everything could be perfect.

Charlotte gazed with drowsy eyes at the maid making a huge fuss as if she might die just from accidentally breaking a teapot.

"Stand up. It's fine, go on."

Beside her, Michael glanced at Charlotte's expression and gestured to the maid.

The maid, pale as a sheet and hiccuping, fled from the garden sobbing.

"...Are you all right?"

The man who'd been consistently taciturn kept watching her reaction.

This situation had happened several times over the past three days.

Feeling pity well up, Charlotte nodded.

This perfect estate had exactly one problem: all the people, including the servants, were very afraid of Michael.

When Michael approached, they parted like waves to clear the way, and when they encountered him, their faces turned pale as they bowed deeply—some even sobbed, begging to be spared. Like that maid just now.

Probably because of the familiars filling the estate.

Though they were particularly grotesque, it seemed to have happened because, to people, familiars were beings from another world, and the ordinary knew almost nothing about magic.

To those who knew nothing, those masses must look like monsters of unknown identity.

From what she'd observed over several days, Michael was not at all a cruel master, and aside from occasionally rattling or smashing objects out of mischief, the masses were well-behaved and docile—yet the servants trembled.

So Charlotte had come to think that Michael seemed truly pitiful.

Though only three days had passed since arriving at the estate, from the perspective of someone who knew about magic, she could see the truth, but people who understood magic as well as she did were rare.

Michael had probably lived his entire life among people who feared him.

Looking back, it all made sense—why a duke would buy and marry someone who was merely a baron's illegitimate daughter, why he had no friends to invite to the wedding—all because everyone around him feared him, which made it even more unfortunate.

...Honestly, she felt a bit of kinship too.

Magic—they had that in common, and living alone among people who feared you must induce a suffocation similar to being confined.

Unlike her, who'd grown up imprisoned without even knowing why, wasn't he someone who couldn't enjoy freedom in a different sense?

'...M-Mom!'

Thinking about suffocation made a childhood memory reflexively flash through her mind.

Charlotte, on the verge of tears, shook off the thought and focused again on her beautiful husband.

Michael had already closed his book and was looking at her.

When their eyes met, his eyes curved slightly—as if he was relieved that she didn't fear him.

Charlotte searched for a handkerchief inwardly as she looked at his empty teacup and asked.

"Shall we go in?"

"Yes."

Michael naturally extended his arm to her.

At first she hadn't known why, but apparently it was for an escort.

She'd thought only fairy tale princes did such things—an elegant gesture she'd never seen before.

Looking at him made her previous thoughts wash away like waves and her heart began to pound. Charlotte smiled broadly as she placed her hand on Michael's arm.

The two walked through the garden filled with masses everywhere, heading toward the estate.

"Do you like the estate?"

At the question that followed—taciturn but thoughtful, as if hoping this place pleased her.

Charlotte nodded.

"It's so vast, I think it'll take a while to see everything."

"...It is quite large."

She looked up at him.

As if waiting, Michael's beautiful blue gaze met hers.

Good heavens, laughter came naturally.

"Then, will you show me around?"

"With pleasure."

Michael answered like a knight who'd stepped out of a novel.

Having had only a boy whose face she couldn't remember from early childhood and a blind maid as friends, Charlotte—with absolutely no immunity to people—felt her heart race.

Ah, could this be what they call fate in books?

To think the place she'd come seeking freedom was an estate with a beautiful and unfortunate mage, as if perfectly tailored for her.

She resolved as they walked: she would become this unfortunate man's confidant.

She'd read it in books. Maria had also told her.

A happy married life comes from lifelong companions understanding and loving each other.

She didn't quite understand love yet, but since she liked it here anyway, Charlotte resolved to make her married life in this new home work out well.

She wanted to grow closer quickly. She hoped the marital bedroom would be ready soon.

Charlotte smiled slyly, recalling Maria's advice from before she came.

"...!"

Just before entering the estate, she suddenly thought she heard a sound and turned around.

There wasn't anything in particular there.

Beyond the sunny garden, the masses were clustered blackly, perhaps playing.

Ugh.

No matter how much she'd accepted them, she still hadn't easily gotten used to their visual appearance—she quickly turned her head and hurried along.

Failing to see that the coachman who'd brought her here lay dead, collapsed upside down where the aberrations, the masses, were swarming.

Failing to notice Michael looking down at her with a cold gaze.

Failing

To

Notice

That the estate's servants were terribly afraid not of Michael, but of her.