Chapter 6.8

A noblewoman of commoner origin, the daughter of a village chief, and the wife of the Young Earl—she was, in her own eyes, the epitome of contradiction. The most deceitful part of it all was how, despite nothing changing in reality, her growing understanding of Miguel was softening her heart.

Lisael could not name a single person she could confidently say would understand her contradictions. Except for Miguel, who stood at the center of them all.

She felt as though she were floating adrift on an endless sea, her footing gradually disappearing. The woman smiling brightly in the canvas seemed like a complete stranger to her real self, so distant and unreachable. Reversing deeply rooted emotions required immense sensitivity.

“I told you, think simply. You seem to already know that yourself.”

The painter, who had never seen Lisael smile, had somehow captured her expression vividly in the painting. Perhaps it was merely the product of a simple perspective.

‘Simply….’

Lisael’s lips curved ever so slightly, lifting faintly.

“Miguel, have a safe trip. I’ll wait for your message.”

It was a response she could easily give to a friend she had opened her heart to. Lisael chose to be honest with herself. Simply.

Blaming Miguel without considering the circumstances now felt forced. And that force was exhausting.

No matter what disappointment or reproach might follow this choice, she decided to seize the opportunity to mend her bond with a once-precious friend.

***

The next day, Miguel departed for the capital alone, as he had mentioned, and Lisael remained in Ruota.

She resolved to use her time meaningfully rather than wallow in melancholy when she eventually returned to the lord’s castle. Becoming a noble was an opportunity she would never have had in her lifetime otherwise.

Though it was not what she wanted, she couldn’t predict what regrets she might face if she squandered this limited time. Before finalizing a smooth divorce, Lisael wanted to color this potentially dreary period with brighter hues.

Someday, she hoped to look back and think, “Even that was a memory.” Of course, recalling the Countess and Kaera often made her resolve waver.

The very people who saw her as an eyesore for being an unsatisfactory daughter-in-law would also be the ones to scream the loudest in outrage at the mention of divorce.

“Young Madam, you have a visitor.”

As Lisael’s determination wavered like a seesaw, Emma cautiously entered the room.

“…A visitor?”

A visitor? That couldn’t be. Who would come looking for me?

“They said you’d recognize them if I mentioned Crisen… from Grand Town.”

“Crisen?”

Crisen? It was hard to believe that the man who had spoken to her so coldly in Grand Town had come to see her. Even though he was an old friend, Lisael couldn’t welcome his visit wholeheartedly.

What could he possibly want? 

Anxiety came first.

When she entered the suite’s attached reception room, Crisen was waiting. Their meeting was markedly different from before. Lisael, who had once greeted him with a smile, now moved cautiously as she took her seat.

“I’m here on a business trip to visit a new client in Ruota. I heard your name mentioned often. I didn’t expect you to be here too.”

Unlike the wary Lisael, Crisen maintained a relaxed demeanor, sipping tea leisurely. It felt as if he were the host and Lisael the reluctant guest. Her hands gripped her cup tightly.

“I’ve been touring the territory. I visited not just Ruota but also Dolce.”

Crisen nodded once, as if he already knew.

“Crisen, you were right. Even Lloyd, who was so close to my father, refuses to see me. It’s not just the former village chiefs. All the villagers whisper behind my back, pointing fingers and criticizing me.”

“……”

“If you’ve come to mock me, thinking I deserve it… please leave.”

Lisael had grown somewhat accustomed to criticism from strangers. But she didn’t want to become desensitized to the pain caused by those she once cared for. She wanted to avoid it if she could.

A wave of indescribable heaviness filled her chest, making her nose sting. She hoped Crisen wouldn’t be cruel enough to dig into her wounds further after she had said this much.

“So… my words hurt you deeply back then.”

Crisen, surprised by Lisael’s unexpected reaction, stiffened slightly. Unlike the time he had stabbed her heart with his words, he now seemed to choose them carefully, as if considering her feelings.

“I didn’t hear your name in slander. I heard you personally opened the Dante family’s exhibition for the villagers.”

Lisael hadn’t expected any positive rumors to spread. She had resigned herself to distorted gossip. Hearing that her name was being mentioned in a favorable light brought a brief glow to her face.

“I still don’t understand your choices. But… I’ve confirmed that you haven’t become corrupt like those who only chase self-interest.”

Crisen’s words were hard to believe. It was the first time since she became part of the Dante family that someone who had turned their back on her had come back to face her.

“Given how far things have come, there must be reasons you can’t explain. I can’t promise to understand even if I knew them, but I’m sorry for not trusting you from the start.”

“I never thought you’d come to apologize.”

No matter how much she vowed not to show weakness, her voice trembled sharply against her will. She didn’t expect to return to how things were with Crisen. But having someone who didn’t turn away and instead looked into her heart brought an overwhelming, unnameable emotion.

“You’re the first person to think… there must be a reason.”

Lowering her head, Lisael struggled to suppress the storm threatening to break free, trying to maintain her composure.

“I changed my mind only after seeing your actions myself. But there are those who trusted the Cherlin family without question from the start.”

Seeing Lisael, who seemed on the verge of collapse, Crisen spoke in his usual gentle voice, feeling a pang of guilt.

“I met Lloyd. He’s waiting for you.”

“…Lloyd? For me?”

At the mention of the former village chief, Lisael’s head shot up. Lloyd had outright refused to meet her on her first day in Ruota, turning her away at the door.

It seemed like a lie. Crisen must be trying to comfort her. He was kind-hearted by nature. Surely he was making this up to give her solace. Lisael’s face quickly turned to disappointment, unable to believe his words.

“I heard the Young Earl has gone to the capital. Lloyd will definitely meet you, so you must go.”

“…Really?”

“And there’s something else you should know. It’s a rumor spreading widely in the tourism industry I’m involved in.”

Crisen adjusted his posture and lowered his voice seriously.

“A national project is underway to develop the forest land in Cherlin into a canal. It seems it will also serve as a park and tourist attraction. Since it’s your village, you and Sir Cherlin should be informed.”

An overwhelming flood of information crashed into Lisael’s mind.

‘A canal in Cherlin…?’

More than that, the mention of forest land echoed in her ears like a hook. She suddenly recalled the land her family had cherished but handed over to the Dante family as a dowry. The forest, which had been deemed worthless.

“If it’s a canal… if they have to build a canal in the forest… wouldn’t they have to cut down all the trees?”

It was such an obvious question. Yet that simple question couldn’t be connected to the forest in the village that her family had protected for generations.

If the dense woodland were to disappear, anything could take its place in the vast wasteland left behind. The possibilities for a barren plot of land were endless.

Lisael, who had never even dared to consider such possibilities, refused to acknowledge the common belief that forests were just parts of nature that could be cut down and carved away at will.

At best, she had thought of them as timber supply zones or small neighborhood parks. She wasn’t the only one clinging to this naive optimism—so had the former village chief of Cherlin.

‘A canal, of all things…’