“Then let me ask you—just how long did you think I would endure it? Until I rotted from the inside out and eventually took my own life?”
“Duchess!”
Her face twisted not with kindness, but with resentment, and she spit out those horrible words. Hessis assumed she was just trying to provoke his guilt with the worst-case scenario—but unfortunately, what she described was her reality.
And Karia had no intention of showing mercy—to those who harmed her directly or those who knowingly stood by.
“See? Even now, in this situation, it’s still ‘Duchess’ to you.”
“That’s…”
“To you and to everyone in the household, the only madam of this family is the late duchess, isn’t it? So what use am I?”
There were many reasons Karia had been so thoroughly rejected by the ducal household, but being disregarded by her husband and his two closest friends—largely due to the late duchess—was the greatest cause.
Weren’t the four of them supposed to be close friends? The only decision the two friends ever opposed was the Duke’s remarriage. They pitied the dead woman, as if marrying someone new was a betrayal.
To Karia, it was outrageously unfair. She hadn’t killed the previous duchess or taken her place deliberately—the marriage talks only began after the woman died. So why was she treated like a usurper?
And now they had the audacity to act like they didn’t want the divorce?
There was only one reason: fear of losing imperial support.
“I have nothing more to say. If you come again, bring the Duke and the divorce papers.”
Karia rose from the table after finishing her meal. Hessis, though she turned coldly away, couldn’t bring himself to stop her.
Persuasion only works on someone open to it. Karia had already made up her mind, and she left no room for compromise. Her heart was completely turned away.
—
—
Duke Rubidov Pandion, who had locked himself in his room all day in a state of shock after his wife’s departure, only came to his senses by nightfall.
The first thing he did wasn’t to check on his collapsed mother—but to summon his butler and ask who “Ellie” was.
“Are you Ellie?”
“Y-Yes… Your Grace. I’m Ellie.”
Though the butler looked puzzled, he soon brought forth a brown-haired maid named Ellie.
The Duke narrowed his eyes, staring at her for a long time before suddenly scowling and demanding:
“Butler, why is this maid still in the mansion?”
“What do you mean, Your Grace?”
“Wasn’t this the maid who pushed my wife down the stairs? Didn’t I give orders for that to be dealt with?”
“W-Well…”
He hadn’t paid much attention when she bowed her head in fear, but now that he looked more closely, he remembered—this was indeed the maid who had shoved Karia on the stairs.
She could have been tried for treason against the imperial bloodline and executed. But since it didn’t seem intentional—she’d sat down in shock afterward—he’d ordered the butler to handle it quietly.
But why was she still wandering freely around the mansion?
When Rubidov pressed harder, the butler looked completely lost.
“Ellie claimed the Duchess tripped over her own feet in shock after seeing her. So we settled it with a three-month pay cut…”
“Tripped?! I saw her push the Duchess with a laundry basket!”
The maid had clearly hit Karia from behind. Whether it was a prank or on purpose, she struck a standing woman with enough force to make a sound—and yet they believed such a ridiculous lie?
Rubidov glared at Ellie, who dropped to her knees in terror.
“I-I’m sorry, Your Grace! I thought I’d be fired if I told the truth! I was just playing a prank, like usual, but it blew up into something huge…”
“Like usual?! You’ve pushed her before?!”
So it wasn’t even a mistake—it was intentional. The butler had trusted only the maid’s words without even hearing the Duchess’s side and handled it with a laughable slap on the wrist. Discipline was a joke.
Rubidov, furious, slammed his fists on his desk and stood up.
Just then, the office door burst open. Lamia stormed in, pushing past knights who tried to stop her, and shielded the maid with her small body.
“Father, don’t punish Ellie! She didn’t do anything wrong! She’s my friend!”
“Do you even know what this maid did to your mother?”
“She’s not my mother! My real mother died a long time ago! That woman is not my mother!”
Tears welled in Lamia’s eyes as she shouted. She was furious—unable to contain it.
In a single day, her grandmother had collapsed, and the household was in chaos. Her nanny sobbed in her arms, crying, “Poor madam, oh poor madam!”
Everyone said that woman caused it. That terrible woman who cursed at her, pushed her, and knocked her over!
“Father, it’s all her fault! She tormented Grandmother and made the house like this—it’s all because of her!”
“‘Her’?”
“Yes! That bastard girl! That illegitimate tramp! We took in the trash abandoned by the Grand Duchy—and this is how she repays us? People with no breeding can’t be trusted!”
“Lamia Pandion!”
Rubidov shouted, unable to contain his rage. Lamia’s eyes widened in shock—her ever-gentle, elegant father had raised his voice at her.
He had always been kind. Even when he was too busy to spend time with her, he brought her little gifts when he returned—dolls, hairpins. He’d never scolded her for skipping lessons or being unladylike.
But now, even though she was teary and sniffling, he didn’t apologize. Instead, he turned away, covering his face with both hands.
“Butler, was this always the case? Was my wife always treated like this by everyone in this mansion? Even you?”
“M-My Lord, that’s…”
“No wonder she was so furious.”
This was the consequence of focusing too much on outside matters and neglecting the household. He thought his mother, the knights, and his friends would take care of everything.
Everything seemed fine because no one said there was a problem—because she had endured everything in silence for him.
> “Your Grace, you don’t look well. Is something wrong?”
She always worried about him. But he never did the same. At first, it was guilt for his late wife. Then resentment toward the imperial family. And finally, he assumed everything was fine just because she never complained.
If he was honest, he had even felt relieved that she wasn’t demanding. He preferred to keep that distance. In hindsight, how arrogant that was. It was always her who reached out first.
“Summon all the household staff. I will personally instruct them how to serve the madam of this house.”
He thought he could still make things right—that if he corrected the wrongs, life could return to normal. He didn’t realize how selfish that belief was.
He still didn’t understand how deeply she was wounded, how long she had wrestled with the decision to demand a divorce.
He hadn’t even asked who her leaving would benefit.
And that was why she had left.
—
—
“So the Duchess filed for divorce, huh? Ah—guess I can’t call her Duchess anymore. Should I say ‘Grand Duchess’? No, wait, she’s not going back to the Grand Duchy either.”
Noah had been grinning for hours after hearing that Karia had delivered the documents he gave her and officially declared divorce.
“That’s right—good for her!”
He had been furious when he saw how rudely the knights treated her. So he did some digging—and found nothing but story after infuriating story.
The Dowager Duchess sending her away to the estate with nothing after the wedding. The servants mistreating her, refusing even basic service. And how nothing really improved even when she returned.
But the worst offender was the Duke.
Even as his wife was wasting away from hardship, he did nothing. He ignored every clear sign in front of him.
“How could she live with that kind of man?”
He recalled her piercing red eyes—so sharp they bordered on arrogance. Every gesture, every blink, every smile was calculated and composed.
But it wasn’t simple aristocratic boredom. It was refinement laced with blades. Get too
close carelessly, and you’d be cut.
What could’ve driven someone like her to live through such misery? Could she really have loved that polished shell of a man?
