Chapter 12
“Oh my, what’s wrong with my expression? I was just thinking that the croissant looks delicious. Here, try some, Count.”
I quickly picked up a croissant with tongs and placed it on his plate. He frowned as he looked at his plate, then glanced at me with displeasure. He must have been annoyed by my shameless attempt to brush it off.
I smiled brightly and shrugged.
Edmund let out a shallow sigh and spoke.
“Today, I will accompany the Countess on her outing.”
I was just about to place a croissant on my own plate when I dropped it helplessly.
‘…Why you?’
Edmund elegantly wiped the corners of his mouth with a napkin and said,
“Can you be certain that the fire at the mansion the other day was not intentional? Someone might be targeting the Countess.”
Wasn’t that you? I swallowed the words that almost slipped out.
“Besides, there are no knights in the mansion at the moment, so shouldn’t I assist the Countess?”
He set down his napkin and gave me a cold look.
A distinguished guest, indeed.
Under his urging gaze, I gave a vague smile.
‘So, he wants to keep an eye on me.’
It was upsetting to be treated as a dangerous person, but it was also a chance to prove that I was harmless to Lilien.
Even though he had intercepted and read the letter I sent to Je, he still needed to confirm things with his own eyes. That was how meticulous he was.
I narrowed my eyes slightly.
“With such a fine gentleman accompanying me, how could I refuse? It’s an honor.”
“The pleasure is mine.”
Haha… For someone asking for a favor, his gaze was incredibly sharp.
Unaware of the silent battle taking place at the table, Lilien clapped her hands in delight, thinking this was great news.
“Damn it!”
Devon, who had been lying in bed with his arm around a half-dressed woman, abruptly sat up while reading his mother’s letter.
His unfocused eyes widened as he reread it, but the content remained the same.
Etricia Buell had discovered his affair and declared divorce. And she had done so with an unprecedentedly cold and firm attitude.
Devon’s face turned pale. He leaped up and pulled up his slipping trousers.
“Damn it…! Damn it…!”
His feet got tangled in the dragging fabric several times, nearly making him trip.
Until now, Etricia had never once mentioned divorce.
Even when he humiliated her, even when Antra threw hysterics, even when she was neglected—if he whispered a few sweet words later, she would forgive him.
She always did. Always.
He had never once doubted her pure devotion to him.
And yet, a divorce?
Without even consulting him, the person directly involved! This was nothing but a blatant disregard. Did she think so little of him?
Fuming, Devon grabbed the letter on the bed and tore it to shreds.
What had his mother been doing while things reached this point?
Even a worm will turn if stepped on.
The noble culture that once viewed enduring a husband’s affair as a lady’s virtue was disappearing. There was no reason Etricia couldn’t declare a divorce.
Fine, a declaration.
Devon gritted his teeth and hastily put on his fallen shirt.
He had to go to her and, as always, embrace her, shower her with sweet words, and whisper false love.
Antra couldn’t do it. Only he could.
“Mmm, leaving already?”
The woman, who had been asleep, opened her eyes drowsily. Her thin slip, barely covering her ample curves, clung to her as she wrapped her arms around Devon’s waist.
As he fastened his buttons one by one, she buried her face against his back and nuzzled against him. Devon, his expression turning cold, pushed her shoulder away.
“I don’t have time for you. Move, you fool.”
“…What?”
The woman trembled in disbelief. That was not something a man who had shared a passionate night would say.
“Why are you suddenly acting like this, Dean?”
One of the many fake names he had used.
Devon scoffed and picked up the torn pieces of the letter. He needed to dispose of the evidence.
He strode toward the door. The woman hurried after him, but he coldly opened the door and stepped out.
“Where are you going, Dean?! Come back!”
Where was he going?
To Etricia, who still adored him—no, more precisely, to the place where he could preserve everything that satisfied his greed.
With a sinister smile, he urgently called for a coachman and headed for the capital.
Inside the carriage heading to the plaza, Edmund sat across from me.
He sat with his arms crossed, gazing out the window indifferently. His neatly tied hair and simplified attire only accentuated his striking appearance.
He casually swept back his slightly tousled bangs and met my eyes.
I instinctively smiled. He examined me impassively before speaking.
“Why did you decide to divorce Count Buell?”
A good question. I partially covered my face with my fan and lowered my gaze, lightly touching the corner of my eye.
“He constantly had affairs. The words he whispered to me, his affections—they were all lies.”
“Countess Buell…”
Edmund, who had been quietly watching me, widened his eyes slightly.
“I appreciate your sympathy. But don’t—”
“No matter how much you rub your eyes, tears won’t come out.”
Hmm, that didn’t work.
I put down my fan and blinked rapidly.
Edmund let out a disbelieving chuckle and shook his head. As expected, pity and appeals didn’t suit me.
I decided to change my approach.
‘If sympathy doesn’t work, flattery will.’
I cleared my throat, covered my lips with my fan, and laughed.
“Since you’re out today, the noblemen on their outings will surely go unnoticed.”
Edmund glanced at me coldly before looking away. He had no intention of engaging in small talk like our first meeting.
