Chapter 13

“I haven’t misunderstood. But as his wife, I do hope Gerard will become a member of that distinguished club.”

“How delighted the late count would be if that happened!”

Baptiste Morin smiled affably.

Just then, the dance came to an end, and applause broke out around the hall.

The elderly lady released the Marquis of Windervane’s hand and returned to her former place. The ladies nearby immediately gathered around her.

Baptiste Morin fiddled with his thick notebook.

“How enviable. She even got to dance with His Lordship. Aren’t you curious what they talked about while they were dancing?”

“I suppose that’s why everyone is asking her.”

“I should go and ask her myself. His Lordship invites me to his banquets from time to time, but he absolutely refuses to give interviews. They say he declines them equally from every newspaper, but it’s still a shame. If only he would spare a little time just for me. Anyway, my lady, I’ll see you again soon.”

After rattling off all that in one breath, Baptiste Morin hurried toward the ladies.

As the next piece of music began, the marquis invited another young lady who had been standing alone to dance.

Envious gazes followed the pair as they stepped into the center of the hall.

The marquis looked down at his partner, whose face had turned red all the way to her ears, and gave a light laugh.

She smiled in response, and the people nearby began smiling as well.

Their featherlight laughter spread farther and farther, like ripples widening across the surface of water.

“Sunlight is reaching every corner.”

Rowena murmured the words so softly that they were barely audible.

The scene before her was simply beautiful.

Just like Erisvale in midsummer, the season she loved so dearly.

Rowena stood near the wall, quietly waiting for Edric Bernhardt.

But once again, he approached an elderly lady who had been left out and asked her to dance.

I hope I’m next!

“I wish he’d come this way.”

Soft whispers rose around the hall, and the ladies’ faces brightened with quiet anticipation.

Everyone seemed to expect the marquis to keep dancing.

What on earth is His Lordship thinking?

It almost felt as though he were deliberately avoiding her.

Rowena’s narrowed eyes softened the moment the music began.

The Marquis of Windervane’s dancing was nothing short of beautiful.

In particular, the way he adjusted his steps and turns so perfectly to suit his partner was enough to draw gasps of admiration.

He wore a dark-purple coat that reached his knees. Whenever he raised his arms, the cream-colored waistcoat fitted over his broad chest came into view.

His lustrous silk cravat was loosely tied, as always.

The thought that this made him look even more perfect prompted Rowena to take another drink of wine.

For some reason, her lips had gone dry again.

The reactions of the people around her were much the same.

They would stare at the marquis in a daze, utterly captivated, then suddenly take great gulps of wine.

Amid all this, an unfamiliar man approached Rowena.

“You are Countess Livros, I presume?”

“…Yes. May I help you?”

Rowena looked at the man’s pale face in surprise.

The shadows around his exhausted eyes were so dark that he looked as though he had mistaken the banquet hall for his bedroom.

“My name is Felix Mordel. You may simply call me Count Lassen.”

“Mordel… I believe that’s the Lord Chancellor’s family. Are you, by any chance…?”

“He is my father.”

So this is the distinguished guest invited from Edessa.

Rowena could guess why Felix Mordel had approached her.

He must be the lawyer the Marquis of Windervane had arranged to help her obtain a divorce.

Her lips parted slightly behind her wineglass.

She had not expected someone of such importance to come, and the realization left her a little flustered.

The man glanced at Rowena, who had gone stiff, then stopped a servant who happened to be passing by.

He took a sip of the fruit wine the servant offered him before getting straight to the point.

“I understand you wish to divorce your husband.”

Rowena hurriedly looked around.

Fortunately, everyone was too occupied watching the Marquis of Windervane and the elderly lady twirling beneath his raised arm to pay them any attention.

She gestured toward a nearby terrace.

“Shall we speak somewhere quieter?”

“It won’t be easy.”

Felix Mordel spoke in a tone so matter-of-fact that it bordered on indifference.

He rubbed a finger over the condensation on his glass as he continued.

“This is a marriage involving not only property but a noble title. If both parties agreed, you could separate immediately, but… I assume you’ve asked for my help precisely because that isn’t going to happen.”

Rowena toyed with the fingertips of her gloves, her expression subdued.

“That’s right. I want to file for divorce. I have evidence that my husband has been unfaithful.”

“I’m sorry, my lady, but that is not grounds for divorce.”

“Even if the illicit relationship began before our marriage? I was deceived into marrying him. Couldn’t that be considered fraud?”

For the first time, something resembling an expression crossed his face.

He looked at her with sympathy and took a drink of his fruit wine.

Then he cleared his throat.

As far as Rowena knew, that sort of throat-clearing generally meant that something unpleasant was about to be said.

Sure enough, he began cautiously.

“Having romantic relationships outside marriage is not regarded as a moral failing. Even His Late Imperial Majesty kept several mistresses, and the highest-ranking nobles openly engage in affairs. That differs from my personal view, but the prevailing belief is that love is natural, while marriage belongs to an entirely sacred realm. As a result, dissolving a marriage once it has been established is difficult.”

“…You’re saying I need some other grounds on which to hold him at fault.”

“Yes. A serious reason that makes it difficult to continue the marriage. A crime or violence, for example.”

“A crime or violence…”

“But, my lady, do you know how many years a divorce suit can take?”

Rowena recited what she had learned in advance.

“I was told that proceedings before the diocesan court take at least a year, followed by two years if the case goes to a higher court. If His Imperial Majesty’s judgment is required, I should allow at least another two years.”

Felix Mordel nodded solemnly, as though she were a promising student who had prepared well for her lesson.

“Correct. Five years at a minimum. And even if you wait that long, there is no guarantee that a divorce will be granted. That is why divorces obtained through litigation are exceedingly rare in the empire. Nevertheless, my office is overflowing with nobles who wish to file suit.”

“Because filing a suit allows them to live separately at once.”

At Rowena’s answer, his eyes narrowed.

“You seem to have done your homework thoroughly. Very well… Then is it your intention to file a suit for the purpose of obtaining a long-term, or perhaps permanent, separation?”

“Yes. Although I’ll have to find new grounds for holding him at fault.”

She had prepared herself for the fact that it would not be easy.

All the more so because, from the very beginning, what Rowena had wanted was not a simple separation.

She had wanted to be widowed.

As soon as she returned to the past, she had resolved to find evidence that Gerard had murdered her grandfather and bring him before a court.

But there was one enormous problem.

The absence of evidence.

“Shall I tell you a secret? Your grandfather was actually killed by Gerard.”

“Does that sound like a lie? It isn’t a lie… It’s a joke.”

Those words, spoken by Camillia in Rowena’s previous life, were the sole basis for her suspicions—and the only evidence she had.

If Gerard really had killed her grandfather, surely he would not have left any evidence behind.

Even if something remained that he had failed to erase, finding it would not be easy.

Therefore, a more certain approach would be to ruin Gerard completely and then ensnare him with an accusation that he had colluded with the Baltan forces threatening the imperial family.

At the very least, she would be able to make him pay properly.

Of course, Rowena intended to draw a clear line between Gerard and herself before that happened.

The honor of the Livros family had to be protected.

And that clear dividing line would be her divorce suit.

Having gathered her thoughts, Rowena looked up at Felix Mordel.

“There is something else, Count Lassen.”

His expression remained indifferent, but he leaned slightly toward her, indicating that he was ready to listen.

“Go ahead.”

“Would difficulty producing an heir also count as a serious reason that makes it impossible to continue a marriage?”

“I’ll have to secure a witness tomorrow.”

Murmuring to herself, Rowena rested both arms on the stone balustrade.

The cool night air raised tiny goosebumps across her exposed chest and forearms. Just then, a mischievous breeze swept through her loosely arranged black hair.

Feeling the chill, Rowena rubbed her arms and gazed down the tranquil garden path.

Fir trees spread their deep-green foliage along both sides of the winding stone walkway.

Lights had been placed among them, and the glow filtering through the branches looked like twinkling stars.

Then, from within that enchanting curtain of light, an enormous figure appeared, as large as a bear.

The man approaching in long, rapid strides looked like the Marquis of Windervane.

No—it had to be him.

That well-proportioned physique, those long arms and legs, and that graceful yet confident stride could belong to no other man.

Wasn’t he dancing just a little while ago?

Rowena glanced back at the banquet hall behind her.

Lively laughter and music were still spilling out.

When on earth had he gone outside?

She turned forward again, and the marquis’s smile filled her vision.

It was unmistakably nighttime, yet his smile was so bright and refreshing that she felt as though she were looking up at a clear morning sky.

“Would you like to come down?”

With both hands tucked into his pockets, he gestured toward the garden path with his chin.