“So she really said that?”

“Yes. She said she wants a divorce—and that she intends to return to the ducal estate….”

Leandro’s brow furrowed sharply. Recalling the rumors circulating beneath the surface, he scoffed derisively.

Throb.

A headache flared again.

Honestly, the fate of a woman he despised should not have been his concern. Yet he was irritated by her words — her insistence that she would return to the ducal estate with her head held high — more than he cared to admit. The duke and duchess who had once cherished her were gone, and the place she spoke of was now home to people who could hardly be called her family anymore.

And still, she meant to return there.

To a place that had not sent a single message of concern after she collapsed and lay unconscious for so long.

‘She’s really committed to this performance.’

Leandro realized, with bitter irritation, that she was shaking him again. He hated it. He didn’t want to care. He didn’t want to think about her anymore. And yet she remained lodged in his mind, a constant thorn in his side.

“I have nothing more to hear. If that’s all, leave. I want to be alone.”

At Leandro’s dismissal, Kalburst hesitated before speaking.

“The physician says my lady has always had a weak constitution.”

“…That woman? Weak?”

Leandro recalled the moment she opened her eyes and collapsed again, her face deathly pale and her breathing so shallow that it appeared to have stopped.

It would have been a lie to say that the sight hadn’t shaken him.

And yet, even then, he could not bring himself to believe her. His first thought was that even that moment had been staged.

She had clung to his side at every official function, never leaving him for an instant. Even worse, she demanded to share his bed night after night. As if that were not enough, she hosted banquets at the marquisate every single week.

And that woman was supposed to be frail?

Leandro let out a scornful laugh.

“Are you telling me this out of pity? To stop me from divorcing her?”

Kalburst failed to hide his irritation at Leandro’s sharp tone. He knew perfectly well why Leandro was so sharp and short-tempered with the Marchioness in particular. Nevertheless, it was unpleasant to see him display such hostility towards someone who had been injured while trying to save him.

Noticing the unease on Kalburst’s face, Leandro chose not to press the matter further.

“Enough. Leave. If she’s willing to divorce, there’s nothing more I need to deal with.”

“Even so, the public eye is watching. An immediate divorce would not look favorable.”

Kalburst said hesitantly, voicing his conviction.

“I never said I’d divorce her right away. Once her body recovers, we’ll proceed at an appropriate time.”

Seeing Leandro respond more calmly than expected, Kalburst cautiously spoke again.

“Th-that… the Marchioness truly seemed to have lost her memory.”

“If she wants a divorce, I’ll play along.”

Leandro spoke as though he were relieved, handing Kalburst a stack of documents. A brief glance was enough to reveal their contents: divorce proceedings were to begin as soon as her health permitted.

As Kalburst read them, his heart sank.

If it weren’t for a faint remnant of compassion, Leandro would have felt nothing but disgust towards her. Perhaps that would have been easier — for him, at least.

But Kalburst knew the truth.

As time passed, the malicious rumors surrounding the Marchioness showed no sign of fading. Like flames fed by dry kindling, they only spread further. That night, after his repeated attempts at persuasion had failed, he went to her, determined to demand that she rein in her behavior for the sake of the marquisate’s dignity.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry….”

Contrary to the rumors that portrayed her as a villain, Larne appeared pitifully small, almost as if she were drunk. She kept apologizing repeatedly, and he could still vividly remember it.

Her shoulders trembled weakly. Only then did Kalburst truly take in her state. She wore nothing but a thin nightgown, exposing her gaunt frame beneath it. Her fragility was unmistakable.

The anger he had felt on arrival drained away, leaving him speechless.

“I know I’m selfish… but just a little longer—just a little longer—I want to stay by his side. I’ll do anything he wants. Please… couldn’t you pretend not to know me for just a little while longer?”

He didn’t have the chance to ask her what she meant.

Although it was nothing more than a faint whisper, to Kalburst’s ears it sounded terrifyingly clear.

“…I’m going to die soon.”

Before he knew it, Kalburst was standing outside Larne’s chamber. The documents in his hand were slightly crumpled. After taking a deep breath, he pushed open the bedroom door.

Larne greeted him with a bright smile the moment she saw him, as if she had been waiting for him.

“Once you have recovered from your illness, His Lordship would like to proceed with the divorce.”

“There’s no need for that. Can’t we just divorce right away?”

Larne, who wanted nothing more than to go home immediately, could not hide her disappointment. It was laughable that the man who had treated her so coldly was now pretending to care about her — she hated that kind of shallow concern that could be withdrawn at any moment.

“…That would be difficult. The reason you collapsed—”

Kalburst stumbled over his words. Speaking felt as though thorns had lodged in his throat. He hated saying this.

“You collapsed while saving His Grace, so… no matter how poor the relationship between husband and wife may be… the public eye—”

Before he could finish speaking, her ears were filled with a sharp ringing. As though rejecting his words outright, she was overwhelmed by pain. Larne clutched her head and bowed forward.

“Hng—!”

It felt as though sharp awls were stabbing into her body from every direction.

“The physician—call the physician…!”

Kalburst called out hurriedly as Larne grabbed his arm. Shaking her head weakly, she stopped him in his tracks.

“I-I’m… fine….”

Fragments of memory began to surface against her will.

She saw a chandelier swaying violently above her.

Beneath it was a man. Despite the obvious danger, the people around him carried on talking, completely unconcerned.

Without hesitating for a moment, Larne ran towards him.

She remembered the stares that followed her, as though she were an entertaining spectacle. The memory alone made her breath turn ragged and her head throb.

She dashed beneath the chandelier, which looked ready to crash down at any moment.

Giiik—

—the metallic groan of the chandelier blended with shrieks as chaos erupted throughout the banquet hall.

Larne shoved the man with all her might.

In that moment, she didn’t care whether she lived or died.

But then he reached out and pulled her into the shadow beneath him.

Crash!

With the thunderous sound, the piercing ringing and the screams faded away.

All she could hear was the heavy thud of his heartbeat, pounding against her ear.

Thump. Thump.

Perhaps… that was enough for her.

“Are you out of your mind?”
“Why did you save me? You hate me.”

Leandro’s lips parted slowly. The moment she heard his answer, her body went limp and she slumped to the ground as though she had fainted.

“My lady—are you all right?”

“Ah.”

A strange emotion welled up inside her chest. Larne was deeply confused.

Why?

Why was her heart racing like this?

Why had she thought it wouldn’t matter if she died?

Everything felt muddled. His final words were so faint that she couldn’t clearly remember them.

“You’re all right now, yes?”

“Yes… yes. I’m sorry for worrying you.”

As Larne offered a small, apologetic smile, Kalburst handed her the documents he had been holding.

“What… is this?”

“…It’s in case you might change your mind later.”

Larne accepted the papers with a bitter smile and signed them without hesitation. As she wrote her name across the page, her hand stopped midway — she had instinctively written ‘Atrice’.

She stared at it for a moment, then crossed out the surname. Carefully, she traced the letters beside the man’s name.

[Larne Cartel.]

The name she had written with her own hand felt strangely familiar, and the realization left her unsettled.

“Still… no word from my family?”

At that question, Kalburst’s body stiffened slightly. It wasn’t an especially difficult question—yet no answer came.

Sensing something amiss, Larne lifted her head. He stood there with a darkened expression.

“What happened during those four years? Why do you look like that?”

“N-no. It’s nothing.”

He took the documents from her hands and left the room as though fleeing.

***

Larne quickly discovered the truth about her family.

The maids were far from kind to her and made no effort to hide it.

Their master, Leandro, despised her, too. The maids naturally mirrored his feelings in their behavior. As Larne did not impose harsh punishments, they felt no need to hold their tongues.

However, that had been before she lost her memories.

Seventeen-year-old Larne could not simply pretend not to hear such words.

“Wasn’t she abandoned by her family too? They say she might be divorced soon — what if her husband throws her away as well?”

“She doesn’t even have anywhere to go back to.”

Larne called out to the maid who had been speaking loudly enough to be heard from her bedroom.

“Were you saying that for me to hear?”

“No? I was just talking to myself.”

Larne raised her hand and slapped the maid hard across the face.

The maid froze in shock. It was not the slap itself that hurt, but the fact that Larne had reacted like this after enduring gossip, contempt, mockery and disregard without saying a word.

“Y-you—”

Before the maid had finished speaking, The maid felt another sharp pain on her cheek. Larne’s breathing had become uneven, yet she showed no sign of stopping.

News that Larne had hit a maid reached Leandro almost immediately.

“Have you finally lost your mind? Now you’re tormenting even the servants? Don’t tell me this is because you can’t host banquets anymore.”

Leandro stormed into her bedroom and shouted at her. He showed no intention of listening to her at all.

It felt unfair, but Larne didn’t want to argue with him.

“There was a reason.”

“Was there?”

When Leandro looked around, the maids remained silent. This was exactly what Larne had expected; they were well practiced at putting anyone they held in contempt in their place.

“No matter what I say, you won’t believe me anyway. If you treat me with such disregard, isn’t it only natural that the servants would do the same?”

The atmosphere became tense, as though everyone were walking on thin ice. Sensing this, the attendants quietly withdrew from the room under the butler’s direction.

“You’re used to being treated like that, aren’t you?”

“…What?”

Leandro scoffed.

“Isn’t it obvious, just from looking at your hair color?”

She had already suspected as much; she simply hadn’t expected the truth to be revealed quite so bluntly.

“A hint of adultery on the Duchess’s part, perhaps? I assumed someone like you—a duchess in name only—would be used to this sort of treatment. Apparently not.”

Hearing his mocking tone, Larneh felt her head throb again. She didn’t want to hear it, yet the words kept coming, striking her chest with each syllable until her heart was pounding loudly in her ears.

“I was clear when we married. Don’t expect any human consideration from me. To someone who stole her sister’s man, there’s no courtesy left to extend.”