If Eugene had shown even a little interest in Harriet, he would have known, but he didn’t give her even that small amount of attention.

‘We’ve lived like this for five whole years.’

Yet Eugene knows nothing about Harriet, and Harriet hasn’t been able to properly fulfill her duties as the Countess of Usra.

‘What is this?’

Harriet was certain. Even if Eugene tried to change from now on, nothing would improve. No, it would only get worse. Harriet knew all too painfully how devastatingly futile forced efforts could be. After all, this situation itself was the result of her efforts.

Eugene’s face brightened, mistaking Harriet’s long silence for hesitation.

“Harriet. As you know, divorce isn’t something you can just do. There needs to be a reason that a judge would find acceptable.”

Eugene spoke gently, as if reasoning with a child.

“But we’ve never fought, we’ve gotten along well. So…”

“Why wouldn’t there be a reason?”

Harriet stared directly at Eugene as she spoke. Eugene’s eyes trembled greatly, seeing this cold expression on Harriet’s face for the first time.

“We’ve never slept together.”

Although they had been married for five years, the word “sleep together” still made Eugene blush slightly. But for Harriet who brought up the subject, it was beyond embarrassing—it was miserable.

Harriet didn’t blame her husband who avoided their wedding night claiming fatigue, then left for the capital again when the time came. When winter returned and Eugene came back, she waited for him to eventually visit her room. But Eugene only went between his study and his room.

Finally, one winter night, Harriet sought him out first.

“Eugene. Um…”

Unlike her usual self, Harriet appeared with her hair down, wearing a thin dress that revealed her collarbone, and perfume. Eugene, realizing what she was asking for, didn’t undress her—instead, he placed a shawl over her shoulders.

“I’m sorry, Harriet.”

Eugene, looking uncomfortable, rambled uncharacteristically.

“I don’t want children yet. I still spend more time in the capital, you know. So can we talk about this again when I can stay at the estate longer?”

“Oh, I was being thoughtless. I’m sorry for pressuring you.”

“Don’t apologize. It’s my fault. Anyway, it’s cold. Let me walk you back.”

“No! I can go by myself.”

“Really? Then be careful. See you tomorrow.”

“Yes.”

Walking alone through the dark corridor, Harriet thought it was fortunate. In the pitch-black night, he wouldn’t have seen her face flushed with shame or her eyes filling with tears of sorrow.

“Still no news of a child? Well, Eugene would have to be home to even try, but why would he want to return to a house with such a stiff, earthy-smelling woman?”

“Don’t you know? The master and that woman have never slept together?”

In the mansion Eugene had left, Harriet had to endure her grandmother-in-law’s resentment and the maids’ mockery alone. Sometimes she wanted to tell Eugene everything, but she couldn’t bear the thought of him forcing himself to be with her—it would feel as painful and miserable as having all the blood drained from her body.

“…Harriet, I understand how hurt you must have been. I…”

“Do you think I’m doing this as some protest because I’m lonely? It’s not like that.”

Eugene’s nose bridge wrinkled at Harriet’s firm attitude.

“Eugene. Please, I’m begging you. Just divorce me. If the judge asks for a reason, you can say you couldn’t see someone like me as a woman, or if that’s uncomfortable, you can say you want a divorce because I’m infertile.”

“What are you saying? There are things a person should and shouldn’t say…!”

Eugene’s agitated voice trembled. In contrast, Harriet was calm to the point of coldness.

“I want to end this badly enough to endure such rumors.”

Just as her voice, murky like a damp fog, scattered Eugene’s thoughts, there was a knock at the door.

‘Is it Pendleton? I was going to find him anyway, so that’s good. Help me fill out this document?’

Eugene strode to the door and flung it open. A maid stood there holding a silver tray.

“I’m sorry to disturb you.”

After assessing Eugene’s expression, the maid bowed her head tactfully and continued.

“After confirming who sent the letter, I thought I should deliver it to you early.”

Eugene took the letter neatly placed on the silver tray. Written in a familiar handwriting was a name he had only seen in dreams.

“Diana…”

Eugene unconsciously murmured the name softly. Harriet almost burst into laughter.

‘Even this moment is interrupted.’

Eugene frowned. A black envelope, the kind used for sending obituaries. Something seemed ominous.

‘Has something happened?’

After the maid left, Eugene let out a sigh he had been holding. His usually straight shoulders curled down pitifully.

“Harriet. Let’s talk later.”

“Why? Do you need to read that letter?”

Eugene’s skin trembled. How dare she!

“It’s not because of that, you…”

Eugene turned his body abruptly. But the moment he saw Harriet’s face, the anger that had risen to his throat instantly evaporated. Harriet was just looking at him expressionlessly.

“…Anyway, that’s not why.”

Eugene avoided her gaze.

Harriet let out a hollow laugh. He was the kind of man who would put down his fork and leave the table if a letter from Diana arrived, even when they were having a meal together for the first time in ages.

How could there not be a single good memory? Harriet smiled bitterly and pleaded with Eugene.

“Eugene, please.”

“Harriet, please don’t talk about that.”

“My father wouldn’t want me to continue a marriage I don’t want to maintain. So if you still have any gratitude toward my father, please divorce me.”

The whites of Eugene’s eyes glistened. His pale face turned toward Harriet again.

At that moment, Eugene’s eyes fell on the necklace that always hung around Harriet’s neck. A locket attached to an old leather strap. This necklace, which seemed far too inadequate for a countess to wear, was a keepsake left by Harriet’s father. Every time Eugene saw the worn necklace, he felt as if he could see Jin’s face reproaching him.

“…Give me some time to think.”

Eugene bowed his head deeply.

Nodding several times, Harriet left for the corridor without another word. Standing with her back to the closed door, Harriet took a deep breath. Her head naturally tilted upward.

‘Was the ceiling always this high?’

In the end, Eugene did not agree to the divorce.

‘But he didn’t refuse outright either.’

Her steps toward her room gradually slowed. She felt completely drained, as if she had been working in the fields all day.

‘If I lie down now, I think I’ll pass out right away.’

Harriet intended to throw herself straight onto the bed. Lying in bed in broad daylight without being sick—it was something she couldn’t even dream of doing normally, as it wasn’t befitting of a lady.

But today, she planned to act according to her body and mind’s wishes without thinking about anything else.

However, when Harriet arrived at her room, she couldn’t fulfill her small dream.

“Pendleton.”

Pendleton, the butler who had been serving this mansion since before Eugene was born, was waiting for her, standing as straight as a statue.

“You spoke to the master.”

“How did you know? Ah, right. That maid…”

Remembering the face of the maid who had delivered Diana’s letter, Harriet chuckled.

“That was quick.”

“Are you really going to leave?”

Pendleton, who rarely showed emotion, wore a deeply troubled expression.

Harriet raised an eyebrow.

“You helped me write the documents, so why are you suddenly saying this?”

“…”

Pendleton had known Harriet since before she became the Countess. A country bumpkin daring to become the lady of the Usra Earl’s house.

‘How did the Usra Earl’s family come to this? Jin Desher, did you have to ruin your noble sacrifice like this?’

Pendleton thought Eugene had been forced into an absurd marriage, and he shook his head in disappointment whenever he found flaws in Harriet.

But since last year, Harriet had completely turned Pendleton’s heart around.

“I helped you because you earnestly asked, but I hope you won’t leave, Madam. Haven’t you endured enough hardship? Now that you can finally live more comfortably…”

“I’m glad you’re trying to keep me here, Pendleton. But I’m going to escape this place.”

Not leaving, but escaping.

‘Does this place feel like a prison to her?’

Pendleton wanted to beat himself severely for having told Harriet about Jin’s deal. If he hadn’t made that slip of the tongue then, Harriet wouldn’t be talking about divorce now…

‘…No. It’s not just that issue.’

Pendleton should have recognized Harriet’s true worth earlier. And he should have noticed the servants’ arrogance sooner.