And maybe it was just my imagination, but it felt like Joyce was protesting against something. I hadn’t done anything wrong, so maybe she was actually rebelling against her household?

“Joyce, as a friend, I’m asking you—let’s go outside together.”

Joyce didn’t budge. I sighed. I really didn’t want to do this.

“Then, will you go if the Duchess requests it?”

“Yes, Duchess. I’ll get ready to go out.”

Joyce answered immediately and went upstairs. I sat in the drawing room, feeling baffled. As I waited, no butler or servant brought tea, and my surprise only grew. But the peak of my astonishment came when Joy finally returned, having finished her preparations.

“…Where’s your lady’s maid?”

“On leave.”

Since entering this house, the only servant I had seen was that incompetent butler. The Baroness of Molly’s household wasn’t impoverished, so something was definitely off. I needed to get out of there. I grabbed Joyce’s wrist, practically dragging her out of the townhouse. Jane, who’d been waiting in the lobby, trailed us like a shadow. As soon as I climbed into the carriage, I knocked on the wall and said,

“Take us to the estate.”

As the carriage started, I could finally relax a little. Joyce, sitting quietly across from me, spoke up.

“Why are we going to the estate instead of the park?”

“It didn’t seem like the kind of conversation for a stroll.”

I figured my own matters were better suited to a private place, but I also wanted to hear about Joyce’s situation. She was staring blankly out the window, and I noticed a deep resignation in her expression, making me sigh.

“Is marriage hard on you?”

“…”

“Tell me what’s going on. I need to know so I can help.”

Joyce remained silent, but her lips twitched as if she had something to say, so I waited patiently. After a long hesitation, Joyce finally asked,

“…Could I stay at your place for a while?”

I was a bit surprised but quickly nodded.

“Of course.”

“…Actually, never mind. What excuse would I give my in-laws…?”

“I’ll send them a letter. I’ll say you fainted while walking, and that you’re resting at the Keppel estate for a few days.”

“Really? Would you do that?”

Joyce looked at me with a hopeful expression, and I nodded right away.

“Yes, you can stay as long as you want.”

At least until my divorce is finalized. I swallowed those words and observed Joyce’s complexion, which finally seemed to regain some color. What could have happened since her marriage to make her look like this? The Baron and Baroness of Molly, as I knew them, had a decent reputation and were sensible people. My father had long been acquainted with the baron, so I felt I knew them well enough.

Though I was dying to know what had happened, I decided it was best to wait for Joy to open up. Yes, I should wait, out of courtesy… But if I had just held back earlier, under the guise of politeness, I might never have seen Joyce’s face again. I bit my lip and decided to push a bit.

“At least tell me what happened. I deserve that much, as your friend.”

“…”

“Fine, are we going to play twenty questions like we did as kids? What should I ask first? Right, why were you speaking so formally earlier?”

With a downcast expression, Joyce looked away. Yet, she replied earnestly to my question.

“They told me to show proper respect toward you.”

What kind of nonsense is that?

“They said that, despite our childhood friendship, we’re both married now and it’s time to act maturely.”

“…Alright, second question then. Is your lady’s maid actually on leave?”

“She was fired.”

Unbelievable.

“Who? You?”

“My mother-in-law did.”

“Why would the Baroness of Molly dismiss your maid? When did that happen? And don’t tell me they haven’t hired anyone to replace her…?”

“About a year ago…”

“What?!”

I couldn’t help but shout. My heart started racing with shock, and I pressed a hand to my chest, hurriedly lighting rosquary incense. Like many noble ladies, Joyce had brought a familiar maid from her family’s house, someone she’d promoted and kept close. That dismissed maid might have been Joyce’s only ally.

“You lived for a year without a lady’s maid? Is that even possible? And to use her ‘leave’ as an excuse every time you go out for social events… That’s suspicious enough as it is…”

“So, I just didn’t go out.”

I guess confinement doesn’t need bars. By getting rid of the maid, who’s practically an extension of a noblewoman’s limbs, they made her embarrassed to be seen in public without one. Even when visiting another household, she’d be asked why she hadn’t brought her maid, and after hearing that a few times, everyone would start noticing. Eventually, she’d be too ashamed to leave.

As a result, even her friends remained oblivious to her circumstances. If I hadn’t forcibly dragged her out of there, I never would have known. Steadying my racing heart, I asked my next question.

“Earlier, I noticed the butler told Jane to wait in the lobby. Were there no other servants downstairs?”

Typically, when a noblewoman visits, her maid would socialize with the household staff or other maids. But the butler had told Jane to sit and wait in the lobby. Lobby chairs are typically reserved for visitors like messengers or merchants—not a place a maid would usually sit. Sure enough, Joyce nodded slowly.

“There’s no one but the butler.”

“Did they let go of the maid to keep you from going outside and dismiss the staff so you can’t invite anyone over? Surely that can’t be it?”

At that, tears began welling up in Joyce’s eyes. I felt a heavy darkness cloud my mind, clutching my head. Why on earth…?

“This can’t be happening. What did you do wrong to deserve this?”

Joyce couldn’t answer, breaking into sobs. I waited silently, unable to find words to comfort her, needing a moment to calm myself as well.

Could the Baron and Baroness Molly really be the kind of people to torment their daughter-in-law without reason? Thinking back, I realized I hadn’t seen Joyce at last year’s New Year’s ball at the Canova Hotel. I remembered her friends mentioning how she was often unwell. Maybe Joyce wasn’t truly sick back then, but instead…

“It’s… because I asked for a divorce.”

For a moment, I thought I had misheard her.

“What?”

“I asked for a divorce…”

I couldn’t believe it. Joyce had always seemed to like her husband, Louis. She had hidden it well, but I guessed she had been fond of him since she debuted.

The reason she had kept her feelings to herself was likely because Louis had once been my ‘cavalier’. Originally meaning “knight,” ‘cavalier’ had evolved to mean the first dance partner of a debutante, gaining romantic significance over time. Many parents began inviting young men they had in mind as suitors to be the debutante’s first dance. It was close to being a sort of unofficial fiancé, so it’s no wonder Joyce misunderstood.

But Louis hadn’t been invited by my parents to be my ‘cavalier’. He was simply accompanying the Baron Molly, who happened to be visiting my father, and when they learned of my debut, he asked for a dance.

Since I had no intention of marrying Louis, I only danced with him once and avoided him the rest of the evening. Later, when I realized Joyce liked him, I went on picnics and to exhibitions with her and our friends to give her opportunities to spend time with him.

A year after my father’s passing, I heard that Joyce and Louis were married. I had thought it was a happy ending for Joyce’s long, unspoken love. Now, for her to mention divorce…

“Why do you want a divorce? Is he a horrible man? Does he hurt you?”

“….”

“Don’t just cry—tell me. I need to know the reason to help you.”

I needed to know to write that divorce petition, and so I could curse him properly. I was clenching my fists in frustration when Joyce, through her sobs, mumbled something faintly.

“He still loves you.”

“What?”

“My husband… still loves you!”

Joyce shouted this and burst into tears again. I stared at her, utterly dumbfounded. After crying for a while, she sobbed and spoke again.

“Louis isn’t a bad person. But I can’t bear it anymore. So when I asked to separate, Mother didn’t understand. She asked why I would say such a thing if I loved Louis… So in frustration, I lied and said I was in love with someone else…”

This was the worst.

“It was a lie. There’s no one else I love, but they believed me…”

I could understand why she would ask for a divorce, even tell such a lie. But in some places, what seems like a small mistake can become an unforgivable one. Out of all Joyce’s slip-ups, this was undoubtedly the worst.

Why would she lie like that…? Then it hit me: I finally understood why the Mollys were keeping her under lock and key. They must be worried that she might bear another man’s child.

Especially in Cadia, where the firstborn son inherits everything, they would do anything to prevent an outsider’s bloodline from claiming their legacy. If Joyce was asking for a divorce, they might even suspect her of infidelity. I felt like screaming at the absurdity of it all.

‘You fool, why did you do something so reckless?’

But I held my tongue, afraid that my words might push her to despair in the Keppel household.

Adding to that, Baron and Baroness Molly were very conservative. They prided themselves on living a life of faith and traditional values and were disgusted by unfaithful women, which was one reason they got along with my mother.

Both couples shared similar values, disapproving of frivolous affairs and committed to religious life. But locking her up? Shouldn’t they at least let her live a minimally humane life?

“I don’t know what to do. My mother and father aren’t on my side. I was so desperate I said I wanted to stay with my family for a while, but the next day, my parents came to visit.

I thought they had come to take me home, but instead, Mother told me to listen to my in-laws and conduct myself properly. She told me not to act immaturely and to stop bringing shame on the family. I’d never seen her so angry. Since then, every letter says the same thing—do my duty…”

I stifled a sigh, swallowing it down hard.