Chapter 92: Let’s Divorce When the Baby Is Born

Damian’s gaze landed on Edelweiss’s hand.

What she held was an envelope containing Anemone’s guardian designation document.

With heavy eyes, he stared at the envelope for a moment.

“…Come inside.”

He narrowed the space between his brows and slightly clenched his jaw, then slowly turned his head and gave a subtle nod.

Edelweiss calmly walked past the officers and headed toward the drawing room.

As the door shut, a heavy, chilly silence fell through the air.

With each passing day, her belly had grown, and it was getting hard to even stand properly. Sitting was a struggle, so she leaned back and tried to catch her breath.

Though her face remained composed, the tension resting on her shoulders could not be hidden.

Edelweiss opened the envelope, took out the document, and handed it to Damian.

His brows furrowed as he read through the guardian designation, but his forehead gradually relaxed.

“Anemone Celine? A collateral branch of Blossamweaver?”

“Yes. She’s a child who has awakened the ability to bloom blue roses. She’s also being abused at Count Celine’s estate. I intend to protect her and prepare her for successor training at the Blossamweaver estate, and for that, I thought formal guardianship would be best.”

“…”

“Your Highness, as both a Blossamweaver and my husband, your consent is required for me to become Anemone’s guardian.”

She deliberately avoided any mention of him being the biological father of the child she carried.

As a direct line of Blossamweaver, he would have the right to claim authority, but she knew such mention would only stir resentment in him.

‘He still doesn’t think the child is his.’

Damian leaned back in his chair, staring at Edelweiss from beneath dark eyebrows.

His cold gaze carried no discernible emotion.

Like a frozen lake, his eyes held a deep, quiet stillness that silently tightened around her heart.

Edelweiss cautiously pointed to the guardianship document Damian had placed on the table.

Only then did he lower his head and silently reach out his hand.

He took out a fountain pen, and without a trace of hesitation, his fingers began to move.

As she watched the sharp nib inscribe his name, Edelweiss felt a strange sense of confusion.

Scratch, scratch—

The sound of the fountain pen scratching the paper spread through the quiet drawing room, tickling her ears.

Damian Rejenoel Blossamweaver Lorendel

There were no questions, no hesitation. It was as if nothing mattered to him.

She had expected at least a few questions after requesting the signature.

Or perhaps even some resistance, asking whether this was too hasty a decision.

“…Did you read it properly? It’s not an adoption for now, just guardianship, but Anemone could become the successor. If that happens, she’ll inherit part of Blossamweaver’s estate.”

“The issue of Blossamweaver’s succession and assets isn’t mine to speak on. As you know, I’m not a Blossamweaver.”

A boundary had been drawn—unseen, yet unmistakable.

That sense of distance, as though they had become strangers again, left her with a hollow ache.

‘What was I expecting?’

Edelweiss bit her lip for a moment.

She barely managed to collect the mess of her emotions and forced a smile.

She worried the trembling corners of her mouth might look strange, but she smiled anyway.

“You’re right, Your Highness. If I’d known it would be like this, I should’ve just sent Anna to get your signature. I feel like I wasted your time by coming here myself. I’m sorry.”

Even when she had first arrived, he asked why she had come.

And when their eyes had met at the start, he pretended not to notice.

Maybe she should’ve left back then.

‘He doesn’t seem to want to speak to me at all.’

Edelweiss placed her hand on the table and slowly forced herself up.

At that, Damian flinched.

“Why are you getting up?”

“The matter’s settled. I should go. Is there something else?”

“…There is.”

“Then please say it.”

She had already turned slightly to leave when he spoke.

“…I forgot. Just wait a moment—until I remember.”

“Send it in a letter later.”

“It’s important. Something that needs to be discussed right now.”

If it was so important, how could he forget in the first place?

As she marveled at his awful memory, the officers’ earlier conversation came to mind.

Rabid dog, they’d said.

She had pretended not to hear for the sake of Lieutenant Colonel Matiel’s dignity, but the way they referred to Damian had left a sour taste in her mouth.

‘It’d be nice if he were a bit more lenient.’

Still, from the officers’ perspective, it made sense—Damian had always been a mad dog, and now his nerves had only gotten worse.

“By the way… please don’t be so harsh on the officers, Your Highness.”

“…What did I do?”

He genuinely tilted his head, as if he didn’t understand.

“You tore off his epaulettes. I understand you were angry because the work was poorly handled, and it involved security…”

“And?”

“You could’ve called him in privately later.

Otherwise, it just ruins your reputation, and I…”

She was about to add that she worried about him.

“Are you that concerned about Matiel?”

Damian cut her off, voice low and piercing.

His expression hardened visibly, and his eyes grew even sharper.

“…What?”

“I was going to demote him anyway after tearing it off. You pick the place. Where do you think he should go?”

Edelweiss blinked slowly.

She was too dumbfounded to speak.

“Then should I bust him down to major instead?”

“……Your Highness.”

There was no point arguing further; it would only add to the fatigue. Scolding Damian clearly wouldn’t help Lieutenant-Colonel Matiel either, and a dull frustration welled inside her.

“Do as you please—tear off the other epaulet or demote him to major. I overstepped when it really isn’t my place.”

Rubbing her forehead, Edelweiss let out a small sigh.

What’s the use of keeping this marriage going like this?

If the child ever needed a father, it would be better to end things before feelings soured even more—for the baby’s sake.

She raised her head and, wearing an exhausted expression, looked straight at Damian.

“When the baby is born, let’s get a divorce.”

“…What did you just say?”

The fountain pen slipped from Damian’s hand.

Clack—

It hit the floor, rolled a few times, then lay still, scratched and dented.

“If we do it now people will talk. The household is already in upheaval over taking in Anemone, so I’d like you to wait a little.”

He swallowed hard and clenched his fist. Edelweiss was puzzled by how put-out he looked, but she brushed it aside. Maybe his pride’s wounded because I brought it up first.

That ‘important matter’ he wanted to discuss was probably this, anyway.

Gently stroking her round belly, she murmured,

“Lorendel Palace is warm even in winter. We can raise the child at the Blossamweaver estate the rest of the year and bring them here only for the cold months.”

The baby squirmed restlessly, as though sensing her unease.

“Your Highness, I don’t want this child to live the way Shasha did. I kept wishing they’d look like no one in particular… and yet…”

The memory of Princess Charlotte’s final moments flooded her mind, bringing tears to her eyes again.

“…I hope the baby resembles you. That way you’ll love them.”

Perhaps then he would feel guilty for once doubting the child’s very existence—

and, at least, become the kind father she herself had never known.

Her trembling lips fell silent.

“……Edelweiss,”

Damian began, as if to say something, but the words never followed.

His silence felt like a period at the end of their story.