Chapter 1
Lady Jona Schattener is notorious for being a woman of many loves. At the blooming age of twenty, she never lacks for playmates. On top of that, she already has three husbands—though all of them are, of course, purely for show. Contract marriages, if you will.
The first is Hugo, the Captain of the Knights. A serious man who still cherishes the memory of his late wife.
“I have no intention of marrying anyone but Kathrin,” he sighed, looking troubled. “Yet, the marriage proposals keep flooding in. I don’t know what to do.”
“I understand,” Jona replied smoothly. “If you enter a sham marriage with me, you’ll be free from all those nuisances.”
“But... are you truly alright with this? A young woman like yourself?”
“Don’t worry about it,” she said with a shrug. “It’s just business, after all.”
The second is Victor, the Mage. A quiet, intellectual man.
“My only interest lies in magical research,” he confessed, looking utterly exhausted.
“My family’s relentless pressure to marry is driving me to wit’s end. It’s obvious I would only end up neglecting a wife even if I had one.”
“I understand perfectly,” Jona chimed in. “As for me, I would more than welcome being neglected.”
“You are a lifesaver, truly.”
“Oh, that reminds me,” Jona added casually. “I’ll be juggling this with another arrangement. Is that alright with you?”
“Juggling?” Victor blinked. “What do you mean by ‘juggling’?”
The third is Ryan, a member of the Royal Guard. With his dazzling looks, he is incredibly popular with the ladies.
“There is someone I love, but we can never be together,” he whispered. “I cannot tell you who it is, but...”
“Oh, of course! Say no more,” Jona interrupted cheerfully. “You can brag about your sweetheart to me all you want, as long as the name stays a secret.”
“Thank you.”
“However, I must mention that I’ll be juggling this with others. Is that quite alright?”
“Huh? ...Wait, what?”
And so, in that fashion, Jona has been getting along quite splendidly with her three husbands.
For an ordinary woman, juggling multiple sham marriages would be impossible. But Jona wasn’t ordinary. Her father was an intelligence agent—a so-called “Shadow of the Crown.”
He was the one who scouted the clients and prepared her false identities. At first, even her father had been skeptical, and Jona herself had approached the task with trepidation.
“His Majesty has made a private request,” her father had told her.
“The Captain of the Knights is still grieving. He should be left in peace, yet the talk of finding him a second wife is relentless. Would you consider taking on the role of a ‘pest repellent’ for him?”
“I’ll do it, Father,” Jona replied. “I was just thinking it was about time I started working as a Shadow myself.”
“Then give it a try. But tell me immediately if you feel it’s too much for you.”
In the utmost secrecy, Jona and her father met with Hugo. They even executed a proper non-disclosure agreement.
“Everything we learn about one another during this contract marriage,” Jona stated, “we take to our graves.”
“I have no objections,” Hugo replied firmly.
After reading through the meticulous contract her father had drafted, Hugo signed his name. For Jona, this was her first official mission as a Shadow. As she carefully signed her name next to Hugo’s, a thrill of excitement surged through her, making her whole body shiver.
“I had hoped you would follow in my footsteps and become a Shadow of the Crown, Jona.”
“It can’t be helped, Father. I simply lack the talent for killing. Though, I must say, I am exceptionally good at lying.”
For Jona, telling a bold, brazen lie with a straight face was as easy as breathing. It was, quite literally, a God-given talent. But when it came to... handling someone? Absolutely not. She lacked the cold-blooded nerve for it. Just imagining the sensation of a blade sinking into flesh made her break out in a cold, panicked sweat.
Being a Shadow didn’t necessarily mean a life of constant bloodshed, or so she heard. But if the moment ever came, one had to be able to strike without hesitation. Jona had zero confidence she could pull the trigger. Thus, applying the principle of “the right person for the right job,” she decided to make contract marriages her profession.
“For a charming liar like me, it’s a dream career.”
Jona truly believed that. She even took pride in it. After all, it was no easy feat. She had to portray three different women, perfectly memorizing the social circles and family trees of three different husbands. Following a minute-by-minute schedule, she would briskly change her clothes, relocate, and perform. At this point, she could proudly call herself a splendid actress.
With the support of her secretary, wardrobe stylist, and makeup artist, Jona somehow manages to navigate this precarious tightrope act.
“Lady Jona, here is the schedule,” her assistant noted.
“This week is Hugo, the Captain of the Knights. Next week is Victor, the Mage. The week after is Ryan, the Royal Guard. And the final week of the month is your time off.”
“Understood. Business as usual, then.”
Jona’s day begins with meticulous makeup. For her, makeup isn’t just vanity—it’s work.
To perfectly portray three different wives, exhaustive preparation is required. Their backstories, upbringing, mannerisms, and speech patterns—all must be ingrained into her mind and body. But simply memorizing them isn’t enough to become them. She needs a ritual. And for Jona, that ritual is makeup.
Jona maintains a separate dressing room for each of her three personas.
The room of Joan, wife of Captain Hugo, is full of energy. The walls are covered in deep green wallpaper and adorned with paintings of horses. Naturally, a portrait of Hugo hangs there too. Her wardrobe is filled with practical, easy-to-move-in clothes, mostly in shades of forest green and earthy brown.
On the vanity, there’s only a modest collection of affordable, mid-quality cosmetics, cluttered together with jars of horse liniment and wound salves.
“Joan is a knight and a horse lover—that’s the setting,” Jona muttered. “She’s the type who believes that if it works on a horse, it’ll work on her too.”
Joan’s makeup philosophy is: simple, fast, and natural—or at least, that’s how it looks. It’s much like how a “pure and innocent” look actually takes the most time and effort to craft.
“Men always claim to love the ‘natural look’ on a lady,” she sighed. “But a natural look is actually a heavy look. Making it appear effortless is exhausting.”
While maintaining the illusion that she’s just thrown her look together in a flash, Jona skillfully transforms her face into Joan’s. It is a feat of immense technical skill.
She meticulously worked the toner into her skin, rubbed in the cream, and applied a slightly darker shade of face powder. After brushing off the excess, she drew her eyebrows thick and bold. Outlining her eyes with a brown pencil gave her a healthy, outdoorsy glow. Finally, she applied white powder to her high cheekbones to give her gaze a sharp, spirited look. For her lips, a modest, pale red.
“And lastly, on goes the red wig—and voila! Joan, the tomboyish and energetic knight, is born.”
Jona drew her sword in front of the mirror and performed a perfect somersault.
“Good. The wig didn’t budge, and my weapon stayed put. We’re ready.”
Gazing at Joan in the reflection, Jona flashed a radiant smile and mimicked the motion of cracking a whip. When Joan got angry, she had a habit of making that sharp, snapping gesture, even without a whip in hand. By embedding these minute details into her body, she could reach a deeper level of performance.
