At that time, Countess Enje, exhausted by her husband’s verbal abuse and neglect, had fled with her daughter to her father, the Count. If she really couldn’t endure it, she could have divorced, but doing so would have meant sending her daughter—who would carry her husband’s surname—back to him. She could not bring herself to divorce, so she had entered into a separation instead.
“Just… don’t ever threaten to jump again or anything like that. Every time I think about it, my head spins.”
“I wouldn’t. I’m with Father, so why would there be any reason? It’s just…”
At first, the Count had tried to send her back. He argued that no marriage is perfect and persuaded her to try to reconcile with her husband. But Enje was firm. In a show of defiance, she stood on the railing of the third-floor terrace and declared that if he tried to send her back, she would die right there.
The Count did not want his daughter to be shamed in high society for being abandoned by her husband, but he also could not harm her. In the end, he accepted the two of them. For several months, they stayed together in the townhouse in the capital.
“If I go speak to him, would it make him uncomfortable?”
The Count said he could introduce her to the Duke if she wished, but Enje hesitated for a long moment and then shook her head. After that, in the mind of Count Lowell, the woman named Karia left only a faint impression and was soon forgotten.
“What do you mean, ‘the same face’? That fierce face doesn’t resemble anyone!”
After that banquet, his daughter died. When the Count was briefly away from home, she had tried to escape from that wretched man who insisted on taking her back and fell from the third-floor terrace. Her own daughter, trying to protect her mother and holding onto her father’s leg, fell with her.
The townhouse was a secure zone guaranteed by the royal family, so it was well-policed. Only a few young maids, servants, and the old steward remained inside. They could not subdue an adult man, especially one with the title of Count.
Thus, his daughter and granddaughter fell to their deaths, while the Count’s detestable son-in-law, whom he could not even call a son-in-law, fell ill and died four days later.
“I should have done it with my own hands.”
Afterward, the Count was so shocked that he withdrew from society, secluding himself in his home. What broke his heart most was that because he had not divorced, the bodies of his deceased daughter and granddaughter were buried in the family tomb of the Count’s house.
He regretted not putting his granddaughter with some relatives as an adopted child and then divorcing. Or at least hiring guards to prevent that wretched man from entering. Or simply staying home that day instead of going out. Or… so many other things.
Regrets chained one after another, but he was a Count. He had many dependents under his responsibility.
He had to rise again, and to do so, he had to leave the townhouse where his daughter had died. He had to clear out the rooms his daughter and granddaughter had used, forget the rose garden his daughter loved, and no longer see the stray cats she cared for.
He understood it in his head, but his heart would not allow it. That was why Count Lowell hesitated for three years, unable to dispose of the townhouse.
“But the Duchess of Pandeon… is she really going to divorce?”
Lost in thoughts of his daughter and sitting absentmindedly at a café until his tea went cold, the Count suddenly snapped to attention upon hearing a familiar name nearby. He frowned. Divorce?
Trying not to show it, he looked toward the source of the voice and saw two men dressed like royal knights sitting across from each other, deep in conversation.
“With all the attention from others and the disapproval of the royal family…”
“What can one do? People have to live. A neglectful husband, a tormenting mother-in-law… How can anyone keep enduring, even if it’s their own child suffering because of ill-born children?”
“I heard the mother-in-law embezzled the Duchess’s funds for her own use, right? And the Duchess didn’t spend it on luxuries, but instead, she rolled up her sleeves and cared for children at the orphanage in her spare time. Incredible.”
The Count’s hand slipped as he held his teacup. What did she say? That a woman who seemed capable of even besting the Emperor had been tormented?
He could hardly believe it. Though he hadn’t known her for long, he had assumed her temperament was not one to silently endure injustice… Perhaps he had been wrong.
Indeed, thinking about it, it was strange. An ordinary noblewoman would have aides, yet she had taken on the responsibility of succession herself.
‘To think she’d risk so much by hiring a servant without even knowing who they were… There could only have been no one else to hire.’
Her carriage was lavish, but that was all. Though she was a royal duchess, she traveled with only a single mercenary, not knights. She had no dedicated maid following her, either. Clearly, her circumstances were far from ideal.
“She’s already left the Duke’s house and is staying at a hotel, right? She must find a place quickly—how could a lady stay there alone, it’s dangerous.”
“Exactly. I heard she’s looking for a townhouse, but with the social season ongoing, no properties are available. It would be nice if she had a safe place to sleep without worry.”
She had left her home, yet didn’t return to her family? Perhaps she wasn’t on good terms with the Grand Duke either, being illegitimate. Still, how dangerous to stay alone!
Count Lowell found himself absorbed in the men’s conversation. But after finishing their tea, the men left promptly. The Count, somewhat disappointed, had already heard everything he needed.
It was odd that he overheard this story, not yet public in society, from royal knights who had no connection to Karia. However, having been absent from noble society, he did not feel the incongruity.
“Was she just desperate because she had nowhere to stay?”
Indeed, given the season, other options must have been scarce. Even though she could afford a million gold, she had likely come to his estate because there were no other choices.
Count Lowell, who had once felt irritation at her audacious spending of a million-gold check, now felt a pang of guilt deep in his heart.
Lost in thought, he accidentally spilled his tea, ruining the pristine white tablecloth.
“Perhaps I should hear her side of the story.”
In his mind, the image of Karia’s arrogant face faded. He hurriedly apologized to the staff with a coin and left his seat. He knew of a hotel suitable for wealthy nobles.
Perhaps by calmly talking, they could reach some understanding.
Yet Count Lowell could not maintain his composure when he witnessed the scene outside the hotel.
“What is she doing?!”
Karia was being dragged by the wrist by Duke Pandeon.
Yesterday evening, after contending with her despised husband’s right-hand man and creating a golem to act as a coachman, Karia only rose from bed at noon.
She called a hotel attendant to help her change, then planned to visit the largest boutique in the capital to order clothes while chatting with the tailor. She intended to spread the news of her separation from the Duke.
In noble society, news spread fastest at social gatherings and dress shops. And with the social season in full swing, even minor noble families had come to the capital, ensuring news would travel rapidly.
‘Before the royal family intervenes, I must act first. Even if the Grand Duke opposed, I could handle this quietly and swiftly.’
Cursing the father who had never helped, Karia reached the hotel lobby.
Then, an extremely familiar voice stopped her.
“Madam.”
Many people could be called “Madam,” but Karia instinctively knew this was directed at her. She had been called by this voice hundreds, perhaps thousands, of times, and it had always brought her a strange happiness.
She saw Rubiduff Pandeon in the hotel lobby and noticed a book half-open and an empty teacup—he had clearly been waiting for her.
‘So what?’
Ignoring him, Karia walked straight out of the hotel, no longer impressed by the Duke’s wasted time.
“Madam, please wait!”
Startled, Rubiduff ran to grab her. He hadn’t expected her to ignore him.
Only after he held her wrist did Karia stop pretending to ignore him and let out a deep sigh.
“What is this? Did you bring a divorce agreement?”
“I came to apologize. I have been too indifferent to you.”
Like a child scolded by his parents, Rubiduff bowed his head, avoided her gaze, and fidgeted.
In front of others, he could always maintain a mask and smile, even if ridiculed. But with her, he could not.
His wife had always been the first to speak, to smile, to listen. But suddenly, the woman who had always stood behind him felt like a stranger. The situation was unfamiliar and disorienting for Rubiduff.
