The Marquisate of Odair, where Regina was born, was an old and noble line with a long history. If you opened the founding history of the Kingdom of Wailin, you would find the family name on the very first page.

The land granted to them by the first king was a region where lush mountains met vast plains. The Odair stronghold had long prospered from the abundance of timber and stone, and the bountiful harvests from the vast wheat fields.

But even the most glorious flower must fade. As the saying goes, Even a rich family only lasts three generations, and the House of Odair was a perfect example.

The fall that began with the twenty-first generation continued through the twenty-third, and by the time Regina’s father, Ralph, inherited the title as the twenty-fourth Marquis, the family was nearly penniless.

His only hope was that Regina would find a strong, reliable husband.

“Marry a kind man, Regina,” he had advised, smoking a cigarillo.

“If he’s rich, even better!”

The last line was probably a joke, but Regina believed that Grey Cabil was a suitor who ticked both boxes.

During his courtship, the flowers in the drawing room of the Marquisate never had time to wilt.

Blinded by love, Regina saw his every gesture through the rose-tinted glasses of affection.

No matter how colourful the world was, it lost its lustre in the presence of Grey Cabil. If other suitors shone like morning stars, he shone like the sun itself.

When he proposed with an enchanting smile, Regina couldn’t help but cry, like someone who has stared at the sun for too long.

***

At the time, she was too young and naive to understand: the sun was something to be admired from afar.

Get too close and it would scorch your eyes and burn your skin.

With a cynical chuckle, Regina pulled the bell cord that hung beside her bed. When, after a long wait, no maid came, she pulled it a few more times until a sharp, irritating knock scratched her ears.

“You rang, my lady?”

Her pretty face said it all – I am dying of work.

A year ago, Regina might have tried to read the mood. But now, with a blank expression on her face, she simply pointed to the bedside table.

“Take that letter to my husband.”
“Yes, my lady.”

With a deep sigh, the maid spoke in a reassuring tone.

“As you know, the master is an extremely busy man. You probably don’t even know what time he went to bed last night…”

“Did I ask you that?”

Regina interrupted in a voice so soft it was almost unbelievable.

“And do you even know what’s in the letter? How can you judge if it’s personal or not?”

“Well, I’ve delivered many of your letters, my lady…”

“I have never written a single letter addressed to you, Dain.”

Regina stared at the sharp scar that ran down one side of the maid’s cheek.

“If you still remember what was in it, then doesn’t that mean you read it without my permission?”

“Wh-what?! I would never do anything so vulgar!”

“But you did, didn’t you? Hiding behind the eagle statue in the corridor on the second floor of the east wing.”

The vulgar little maid froze, mouth agape. Regina had pinpointed the location so precisely that she didn’t even dare to protest.

“If you’d rather not have to explain yourself to the head maid, then just do as you’re told.”

Dain’s once delicate face crumpled in fear, her eyes filled with tears. She looked so convincingly like a victim that it was sickening.

As Dain picked up the letter and left, Regina leaned back against the pillow. She closed her tired eyes, and in the darkness – like chalk on a blackboard – sentences from old letters began to appear in white.

“Please talk to me, darling.”
“I don’t even remember the last time I saw your face.”
“You weren’t like this before. Why have you changed?”

If Dain had read those pathetic, desperate love letters, it made sense that she looked down on her.

Regina didn’t care if a maid disrespected her. What really humiliated her was her husband’s indifference – he hadn’t sent a single reply.

But that wouldn’t be the case today.

Checking the time, Regina took the medicine the doctor had left and picked up a fig candy for a change of flavour.

By the time the candy had painfully stretched across her cheek and crumbled into tiny crispy bits, there was a heavy knock at the door.

“Regina. May I come in?”

“Yes.”

Grey, sleeves rolled up and eyes a little impatient – perhaps just home from work – sat on the edge of the sofa. His face seemed calm, even serene.

Regina lowered her head, unable to look at him any longer. His shadow, cast across the white sheets, brushed lightly against the back of her hand. The slight touch was enough to send a subtle shiver through her, and she hated herself for it.

“Did you get my letter?”

He wouldn’t be here if he hadn’t. A man who knew nothing but work wouldn’t have come all this way otherwise.

“Were you serious?”

“About wanting a divorce.”

“Then you read it right.”

“What’s the reason?”

Was he really asking because he didn’t know? Or was he calculating, trying to plan his strategy for the divorce proceedings?

She had asked for the divorce with such confidence, but now she couldn’t bring herself to meet his eyes. Instead, she spoke to the shadow stretched across the sheets.

“As you know, I was in a coma for a year. The doctor said I was so weak that if I’d woken even a little later, I would’ve died. And yet, you never came—not once. Expecting me to rely on a man like that for the rest of my life… isn’t that far too cruel?”

Grey offered no excuse. He knew plenty of other ways to break her heart.

“Regina.”

He said with a weary sigh from above her.

“While you were unconscious, you couldn’t fulfill any of your duties or responsibilities as a wife. And keeping you alive cost an astronomical amount of money every single week.”

‘Then you should’ve just let me die. That would’ve been kinder.’

“And still, I waited in silence—with no guarantee you’d ever wake up—and spared no expense to keep you alive. Just because I didn’t visit, because I was busy filling your absence and managing the soaring costs, you can’t accuse me of failing in my duties as a husband.”

“Save those words for the judge, Grey.”

It was strange. They were speaking face to face and yet they couldn’t understand each other. Their words were hollow, unable to connect, like the repulsive ends of two magnets pressed together.

“I ask you now as your wife.”

Still, with a tired face, she drew out a piece of her inaccessible heart once more.

“What if I had never woken up? What if I had died like that? Our last moment together would have been that argument a year ago…”

Suddenly, a wave of emotion washed over her.

A lump of emotion suddenly surged inside her – so hot it felt like molten lava – and no words would come out. After taking a deep breath, she continued as if nothing had happened.

“Didn’t it matter to you… if I had died like that?”

“You didn’t die, did you? And what man would not be affected by the death of his wife? Please stop accusing me on the basis of your assumptions.”

Her husband was annoyingly rational.

“Anyway, you woke up – miraculously. If there are other problems, we can deal with them in time.”

‘You always say things so easily. Because my pain means nothing to you.’

“I want a divorce because I survived! Because if I go on living like this with you… I really feel like I’m going to die.”

Don’t cry, Regina. The weaker and more broken you look, the less convincing your voice will be.

Her eyes stung as she gazed down at the sheets, wishing the tears would stay away. Grey, who had been silently looking down at her, moved a little closer.

“Look at me, Regina.”

“My hearing is fine. Just say what you have to say.”

If she looked into his face, she knew her heart would beat faster again. A cold sigh ran through her hair as she stubbornly held her head down.

“Use your head, not your emotions. Staying in this marriage benefits you too. As the Countess of Cabil, you’ve had wealth and privilege—you’ve experienced it firsthand, haven’t you?”

“That’s not what I want.”

“True. You’re not that kind of woman.”

To her surprise, Grey agreed, a bitter smile forming at the end of his words.

“It would have been easier if you were.”

A single tear finally slid down her cheek. Disguising the motion as she tucked her hair behind her ear, Regina quickly wiped it away.

Grey went on, still trying to reason with her.

“Love is fleeting. It’s not something a man and woman bound for life truly need. If you’d just adjust your attitude a little—”

“That’s exactly why I want a divorce, Grey Cabil.”

She bit down hard and forced a smile, just to keep from breaking.

“Because my heart is too full of love for you to simply change it.”