Chapter 3
Sometimes in life, you might get divorced, right?
According to the family law of the Kingdom of Sigarette, a complete divorce required two rounds of paperwork: the divorce petition and the final divorce decree.
A week ago, Philip had submitted the petition to the court. From that day onward, the couple was bound to a hundred-day reflection period. No matter how much they despised one another, separation was forbidden.
The second document—the final divorce decree—could be submitted to the court at any point during the reflection period. Upon arrival, it would be sealed and only opened by a judge on the final day to deliver the ruling.
If even one spouse signed for divorce, it would be granted; if neither sent the paperwork, or both chose to cancel, the divorce would be invalid.
Up to this point, the law felt reasonable.
<The division of assets upon divorce is at the discretion of the head of the family.>
Here, however, the logic faltered.
The family mansion automatically belonged to the head of the household. The spouse was entitled only to the property they personally acquired and whatever alimony the head deemed fit.
It made sense that the lord of the house owned the estate, but the fact that alimony was entirely at his discretion felt unjust.
Reading this in a novel might have been thrilling, but being the one involved made it nerve-wracking.
Ellen’s extravagance had only been a concern when she was the Countess. Philip gave her a modest two-story house in town as alimony and reclaimed everything else except for the dress she had chosen. This economic restriction was to prevent her from continuing her malicious schemes.
Naturally, Ellen clung to Philip, kicking and screaming to avoid leaving the mansion, only to be pitifully expelled—providing readers with a satisfying, vicarious sense of justice.
Yet, Ellen did not live in poverty afterward. Her wardrobe was extensive, far too large to fit in the small two-story house. From that point on, she lived by selling her dresses, while continuing to manipulate the protagonists through Sir Mildred and other agencies.
“Aha.”
I gleaned another survival strategy from this.
“If I don’t beg to cancel the divorce and manage to gain some goodwill, perhaps there won’t be any economic restrictions.”
If fortune favored me, Philip might even grant a house slightly better than the tiny two-story. If I could also secure gold and other assets beforehand, life would be easier.
‘Since I can take the property I’ve personally acquired, it’s better to act fast.’
It was easier to start a business as a Countess than to struggle as a divorced Countess.
“In any world, money makes life easier… All right.”
Muttering to myself, I stamped the blank confirmation space on the second divorce decree. Once submitted, the judge would open it after the hundred-day period.
‘In the original story, Ellen clung to Philip…’
Ellen had stamped the cancellation field on her divorce papers. In the novel, she believed that holding onto Philip would nullify the divorce. She trusted the persuasive power of the pillow-side negotiations—but she had miscalculated entirely.
Philip had already decided on divorce after careful consideration. The moment he mentioned it, nothing could reverse it. His nature was straight as bamboo, steadfast as pine. This was also why the aged king had trusted him as the true heir hidden in the family.
‘Clinging would only make a fool of herself.’
I dropped wax on the envelope and pressed the family-ring seal firmly. The emblem engraved on it symbolized the house itself. Using an object previously only mentioned in the novel made me feel truly elegant and formidable.
“Hehe.”
I suppressed a rising smile and called for Sir Mildred, my shadow knight.
Through the door gap, a maid quickly sensed my expression. Clearly, even they found it difficult living under Ellen’s watchful eyes.
“My lady?”
He cautiously read my face.
“Is there something special today?”
Oops, perhaps my expression had given me away. I fiddled with the document, feeling slightly embarrassed.
“Oh, did it show? I was just finishing some paperwork…”
I couldn’t bring myself to confess that stamping the seal had been fun. Swallowing the words with a small laugh, Sir Mildred’s eyes fell on the papers, perplexed.
“Please deliver this to the court.”
He swallowed hard at the sight.
“Are you certain this is safe to send?”
His serious expression betrayed that he had guessed the document’s nature.
“What could possibly be unsafe?”
“…Pardon?”
“Nothing of concern—just deliver it.”
“Pardon?”
“Sometimes in life, you might get divorced, right?”
“E-excuse me?”
“Isn’t that so?”
“Y-yes, my lady.”
Perplexed, Sir Mildred took the document from me.
“Sir Mildred,” I added.
“Yes, my lady?”
“Will you serve me for your entire life?”
The question was sudden, but he didn’t hesitate.
“That is my duty, but why ask such a thing now?”
“I wondered if you’d feel forced to stay here if I retired or returned home.”
“Pardon?”
He blinked but then shook his head slightly.
“I swore an oath to remain by your side for life. Retirement or returning home is out of the question. This duty is my entire life.”
“…Was it just my imagination, or did that faint smile on his lips look… happy?”
I stayed silent, and he double-checked.
“Is there anything further you wish to say?”
“N-no… go.”
“Then I shall take my leave.”
As I watched him leave, my face flushed. He was only performing his duty, yet I felt as though I had received a subtle confession.
‘He said he’d resist to the last…’
In the novel, this character had executed all of Ellen’s commands with villainous precision. Experiencing him firsthand was somewhat different.
“…Does Sir Mildred love Ellen?”
I shook my head immediately.
“For the sake of the story, the villain needs a loyal servant, right?”
Even a Countess villain couldn’t execute all her schemes alone; a faithful subordinate was necessary—like soldiers who remain loyal to a tyrant, even when defeat is certain.
“Yes. It’s just the author’s setting. I mustn’t get confused.”
With that, I realized two people besides myself needed to survive in this life.
“Loyalty isn’t a crime.”
Knowing others depended on me added a sense of responsibility. I had to earn people’s trust and avoid dead-end situations.
“I live, and he lives too. Let’s do this!”
Full of energy, I summoned the maid.
“How long until the children arrive?”
“In two hours.”
“Will they be greeted at the main gate?”
“Yes. All preparations are complete.”
Time to earn the favor of my stepsons and their wives was limited.
“All right… heh heh… time to prepare myself.”
The maid flinched at my smile, bowing respectfully. No matter what I did, I appeared villainous to most of the household. At first, this was frustrating, but a week in, I’d grown accustomed.
‘In a hundred days, they won’t matter anymore. No need to care.’
I was soon adorned head to toe in sparkling jewelry and a magnificent dress. The headpiece was excessive, but I looked breathtakingly beautiful in the mirror.
‘Wow… I look incredible.’
I swallowed both my awe and regret.
‘Why live such a vile, jealous life with such beauty?’
No matter how I thought about it, life was being wasted.
‘After clearing out the mansion, I’ll live a new life worthy of this beauty!’
With renewed determination, I removed my heavy hairpins.
‘Carrying these would just make me irritable.’
“Remove all the head ornaments.”
“Yes?”
The maid looked puzzled but complied. Simplicity brought out a more elegant refinement.
‘Excessive decoration can backfire.’
Prepared, I stepped out to the main gate for the greeting.
Through the wide, arched white iron gate, rose vines stretched and bloomed red, as if welcoming the young couple. Lining the path were the butler Domingo, the household staff, and the servants, all in formation.
Philip appeared last to greet the children. In the center of the neatly arranged line, bathed in sunlight, stood Ellen. It had been exactly a week since the assault incident.
‘Ellen.’
Whatever had happened in the past, she was a woman of remarkable beauty and grace. Philip had been captivated by her when they first met, though he maintained composure lest his admiration show.
At nineteen, he married eighteen-year-old Ellen in a political match, dedicating himself fully on the wedding night. He had eagerly anticipated married life, only to discover she was foolish and ill-tempered.
She lived for the moment, spoke as she pleased, and disregarded priorities. Yet Philip had tolerated it—that was common in political marriages.
That is, until she began tormenting his stepson, Marlboro, out of jealousy.
Ellen knew of Marlboro’s existence beforehand, but confronted by his exceptional abilities, she could not accept it. This was critical to the Count family succession.
“Why do you teach him so diligently if he seems clever already?”
She suspected Marlboro was Philip’s biological son, born from a youthful indiscretion.
“I swear he is not my blood. There are no succession issues, so tolerate him until adulthood. When the time comes, his benefits will reveal themselves.”
Philip had his reasons, but Ellen ignored him.
“My lady… actually… never mind.”
Philip swallowed the words that rose to his lips. He wished he could speak honestly to his wife. Marlboro was entrusted to the Count family by the elderly king, the future ruler. Securing Marlboro’s position promised Philip great rewards.
But secrecy was paramount, especially from foreigners.
‘Better a misunderstanding than revealing Marlboro’s identity.’
Thus, Philip remained silent. The king’s death would soon occur, and when Marlboro ascended, Ellen would learn everything naturally. Time would resolve it.
‘Then it will all be fine.’
Yet reality diverged from Philip’s plan. Ellen constantly sought to disinherit Marlboro, tormenting everyone except Philip. She obsessively clung to Philip, evoked sympathy, and obstructed his work to gain attention.
Philip redoubled his efforts to educate Marlboro and attend to his duties, enduring any losses caused by Ellen’s deliberate sabotage. After all, she was his wife, whether he liked it or not.
Philip’s decision to consider divorce seriously came with the arrival of Laila. Ellen continued to torment the innocent and kind Laila. Even though Laila was a princess of the Kingdom of Perdes, Ellen remained unbothered.
‘This cannot continue.’
Philip gave up on Ellen. The couple’s remaining interaction was dry and cold—they lived as a showy couple, not divorced.
The final decision came on the day of Marlboro and Laila’s wedding. The day before, Ellen struck Laila and ruined her dress. Despite the king officiating, Ellen attempted to sabotage the ceremony.
Philip had wisely prepared an extra dress, so the wedding proceeded without issue. Yet no matter how beautiful, the substitute could never match the original gown’s dignity.
“The noble family’s wedding is surprisingly modest… If I knew, I would have gifted the bride her gown. Hah.”
The aged king smiled, but his amusement was tinged with disappointment and anger.
Philip shivered at the thought. Left unchecked, Ellen’s arrogance would ruin the family’s long-standing legacy.
‘No more.’
Once the children departed on their honeymoon, Philip declared divorce. A week later, I had stamped the divorce papers, and now another week had passed.
Philip stood beside Ellen. She gazed intently at him.
‘She’s probably wearing either a pitiful frown, a proud expression, or a coy smile.’
As Philip anticipated her gaze,
“……!?”
