How the Villainous Consort Avoids His Death Ending

It was probably around minus ninety-five. While I was resigning myself to that thought, the System displayed a message.

Current Affection Level of Grand Duke Tristan: 1

‘Huh?’

There were no usual snarky comments attached. That was all. Thinking it might have crashed again, I asked once more.

‘Check again. What’s the affection level?’

This time, it only sent the number itself. Looking again, there was no negative sign in front of it.

So it was actually a positive value?

‘System, are you embarrassed right now?’

The System stayed silent. Of course, it had nothing to say. Every time the affection level dropped, it would mockingly chime in, but now that the number had gone up, it seemed awkward about it.

“So what, being cute wasn’t the answer after all?”

I grinned to myself as Tristan carried me. Naturally. How could acting cute work on a man like him? Apparently, hitting and insulting him had raised the affection level instead.

‘…?’

That was strange in its own way. It didn’t seem like a trustworthy number. The System must have glitched after the update. I decided to check again later.

In any case, Tristan’s strong arms and firm chest felt surprisingly secure, and the ride was oddly comfortable. Even though the position was embarrassing, I found myself quietly enjoying it while pretending to complain.

Then we ran into the old man who had ordered my imprisonment earlier. Judging by his demeanor, he seemed to be Wilhelm, the butler who managed the Grand Duke’s estate in the novel.

“Your Grace, His Highness the Crown Prince is in pain! Please, quickly…”

It seemed that Tristan’s nephew, Crown Prince Constantine, had taken a turn for the worse.

But just as he hurriedly reported the situation, Butler Wilhelm suddenly closed his mouth. He must have just noticed me being carried in a princess hold. Feeling awkward, I tapped Tristan’s shoulder and whispered,

“Your Grace, please put me down now.”

It seemed he had momentarily forgotten about me. He turned toward me with a startled look before furrowing his brow.

“Your legs…”

“I can walk on my own. We’re almost at my quarters. You should go to Constantine right away.”

As if my leg cramps still hadn’t gone away—honestly. I whispered again, and only then did he seem to come to his senses.

It was understandable. News of Constantine’s condition would have been a heavy blow to him. The child’s state around this time truly had been critical.

☆ Instant Death Ending ☆ Event Progress
Current Affection Level of Grand Duke Tristan: 1
Progress: -/100

“Hm…”

After Tristan left, I checked the System again.

To my surprise, the positive affection level was indeed correct. It seemed that, by sheer accident, I had somehow increased Tristan’s affection.

“Well, whatever. At least it’s something good.”

There was no way his affection had risen because he enjoyed being cursed at or hit. There had to be another reason, though I couldn’t think of one. I gave up and flopped onto the bed.

Then, suddenly—

“Aaaah! Hhk, ahhh!”

A dreadful scream echoed in the distance.

I sat up in shock. The voice was faint, but unmistakably that of a crying child.

It must have been Constantine.

At this time, Constantine suffered from a mysterious illness that often brought him to the brink of death.

About ten years later, after much hardship, Tristan would finally develop a cure. But it had taken so long because he had initially gone in the wrong direction. Constantine wasn’t sick—he had been poisoned.

That was the handiwork of Everett, who had swiftly made his move within the Grand Duke’s estate. The novel, however, never revealed who exactly poisoned Constantine or how it was done.

“Ugh… ahh… it hurts, it hurts… Uncle, please… it hurts…”

The child’s weak, tearful voice continued without pause. Constantine’s room wasn’t far. It was just across the corridor from mine.

Hearing a child cry in such pain felt like torture. Feeling pity, I rose from the bed and headed toward his chamber.