Chapter 34
This morning, I received a letter from Wickley.
It said that his immunity had recovered, his skin condition had improved, and he would be able to attend the banquet. As I had predicted, Antra requested an invitation through illegal means, but was rejected.
The letter also conveyed his contempt and displeasure toward Antra, as if he was wondering what kind of person I took him for.
I smirked and got up from my seat. It was almost time for Lilien to return from her training session.
“Mr. Rainbutton, I’ll be going now… Mr. Rainbutton?”
Rainbutton, who had been reading the newspaper with a serious expression, looked up at me, startled.
“What’s wrong? Did something happen?”
“Hmm, it’s nothing major, but I just read an unfortunate article. You know that nameless nonprofit organization that helps refugees affected by monsters?”
“Yes, what about it?”
“They suddenly lost a large, unidentified donation, so now they’re struggling to operate.”
Rainbutton clicked his tongue in pity.
“A close friend of mine received great help from them when he was starving as a child due to a landlord’s embezzlement. It’s a shame. Well, everyone has their own circumstances… Countess?”
Rainbutton looked startled at my suddenly fierce expression.
‘The nonprofit lost its funding? That means…’
A chill ran down my spine, and I sprang to my feet.
“W-why? Is there a problem…?”
Before she could finish speaking, I stormed out of the office. Rainbutton quickly followed and grabbed both sides of the doorframe, calling out.
“Countess, what’s wrong…!”
Countess…! Her worried voice echoed behind me, but it faded as the building’s doors shut.
Bang!
Ignoring my secretary, who was trying to stop me, I flung the door open and barged in.
This was Devon’s private office, offering a clear view of the capital’s center through large windows draped with velvet curtains.
The room was furnished with elegant artworks and reddish-brown bookshelves, creating an opulent atmosphere. Devon, a major figure in the financial world, lounged on a luxurious, old-fashioned leather sofa as if he owned the place.
Creak. Devon leaned back in his chair, smirked when he saw me, and ended his conversation over the communication device. He then signaled his secretary to leave and tapped his mahogany desk with his fingers.
“When I was beaten by my father and bedridden, you didn’t even show your face, too busy hiding behind that great Mipedian. But now, you finally show up.”
Suppressing my rising anger, I sneered.
“What a pity. I should’ve made sure you were too crippled to even lift a finger. I guess Viscount Dien must have been too soft-hearted to still consider you his son. Or maybe he’s as weak as you?”
“Hahaha!”
Devon laughed, shaking his shoulders as if I had told a hilarious joke, but his expression quickly turned ice-cold. He stood up, leaning close to me, and pointed at the bruises on his face.
“I must be the only grown man who’s suffered such humiliation because of his wife! Everyone’s calling me an idiot!”
I narrowed my eyes. His damp breath brushed against my skin, making me feel as if I were rotting from the inside.
“So what? Do you think drawing a line through dung will make it any less filthy?”
Devon’s eye twitched at my mocking words, and he kicked his chair, breathing heavily.
Watching him fume, my own anger, which had been simmering since I stormed in, cooled down.
Regaining my composure, I took a deep breath and stated my purpose.
“Restore the funding. It has nothing to do with our divorce.”
Devon, still breathing heavily, glanced at me and sneered.
“Oh, you mean the secret funding your father was handling?”
This nameless nonprofit organization worked to rebuild villages and farms, establish medical facilities, and support the families of fallen knights. It provided aid across the empire and even beyond its borders, reaching places the government couldn’t.
Count Buell had been secretly involved, and no one knew the source of the funding except for Count Buell, Etricia, and Devon, who inherited the count’s position.
Yet now the funding had been completely cut off, leaving those under its protection in terrible straits.
“And why should I do that? As you said, once we divorce, it’s over.”
“What?”
“Think about it. If your scheme to expose the will forgery succeeds and we divorce, I’ll be kicked out. Shouldn’t I at least indulge in some luxury before that happens? That organization has received plenty of support already. Isn’t it about time to stop? Aren’t you even a little reluctant?”
I clenched my fists tightly, glaring at Devon with burning eyes.
“Devon… You know what this means to my father.”
The Buell family’s mining business was fundamentally based on civilian support.
It was already contradictory for a kind-hearted man like Count Buell to monopolize Lebron, a mineral essential for survival.
Lebron mining was limited, and unlike me, who knew it could be refined, others only knew how to use it in its raw state. This meant that poor mercenaries and local knights couldn’t afford it. Naturally, the price skyrocketed, and it was sold at exorbitant prices through auctions.
Yet Count Buell conducted business under extraordinary conditions, despite opposition from the temple and the imperial palace.
He supplied the palace with a fixed amount annually at one-tenth of the market price and provided regular support to the temple. He prohibited exports except to monster-infested regions and strictly regulated supply.
In short, this funding was Count Buell’s true mission—his legacy, his achievements, and the values he had fiercely protected.
Of course, Devon understood this too.
‘I’m sure the gods gave us these mines for a reason, Etricia. We must never forget that.’
I had witnessed Count Buell holding my hand and pleading for the continued funding when he approved my marriage.
Devon grinned and shrugged as if he knew nothing. His mocking smile made my blood boil.
He knew exactly where to strike to provoke me. First, the Mipedian family. Now, Count Buell.
Etricia’s emotions were his playground, and he had managed the count’s estate without issue by manipulating people’s feelings. He wasn’t a fool—at least not when it came to toying with emotions. That’s how so many women had fallen for this empty shell of a man.
Taking deep breaths to suppress my rage, I slowly opened my eyes and spoke in a firm voice.
“What do you want?”
“What I want, huh.”
Devon chuckled, brushing his hand over his desk as he circled around it. Then, standing before me, he whispered lowly.
“On the day of the banquet, I’ll come to pick you up. You will step into my carriage as the most beautiful noblewoman in the world.”
For a moment, our eyes met, and he looked just like a grotesque monster from a bestiary.
“And you’ll stick by my side the entire night. When it’s over, you’ll quietly follow me to Viscount Dien’s estate. Until the rumors die down and our so-called marital strife disappears.”
“Then, will you throw me away?”
Devon smirked darkly.
“No, my dear. I’m never divorcing you.”
“Didn’t you fake the scandal because you wanted to take my wealth and divorce me?”
“Well, maybe I did, back then.”
Devon looked me over with a sly gaze and brushed his cheek with the back of his hand.
“I told you. After you became another man’s woman, you started to look really attractive.”
“You crazy bastard.”
At my harsh words, Devon’s eyebrows twitched.
His hand, which had been brushing his cheek, moved and suddenly grabbed my tied-up hair.
“Ugh!”
A choked sound came from my throat, and my body staggered hard.
I only found my balance again when I met Devon’s eyes full of anger.
I felt fear and shame at the same time.
If Devon threw his fist again, I knew I wouldn’t be able to stop it.
This place belonged to him. There was no one here who would help me.
But I didn’t back down.
I glared at him with stubborn eyes.
Looking away or shrinking back would feel like losing to a jerk like him.
“When the certificate proving the will is real comes out, quietly bring it to me.
And just like before, even if you find out I’m cheating, pretend not to know.”
Devon smiled angrily, his lips trembling.
“If you’re late, I might just sell the mine to some money-crazy foreign tycoon and run off into exile.”
He roughly let go of my hair and fixed his collar.
He let out a deep sigh, gave a mocking snort, and walked toward the door.
Then—slam. The door shut.
I loosened my hair, which had gone limp like melted ice cream.
A soft, empty laugh escaped me like air leaking out.
It wasn’t just a waste of time to have believed a man like that was my husband—
It felt unfair.
Sigh.
I brushed away a few strands of hair that had fallen over my forehead and lifted my head, glaring at the firmly closed door.
‘You think you’re the only one holding someone hostage, Devon.’
I paid you back with a scandal for your scandal.
Now it’s time to answer your threats with my own.
I fixed my messy clothes and lifted my head with strength.
There was still a lot to prepare before the banquet.
