Chapter 55
Wouldn’t it be a little wasteful to just let him go like this?
“A parting gift. You bastard.”
Rebecca raised the hand holding the dice high. Then, with all her strength, she hurled it straight at Zeppelin.
The dice struck the back of his head squarely.
Thwack—!
A dull sound echoed out, loud enough that it was a wonder he didn’t have a bump already.
“Argh! Who the hell…?”
Zeppelin grabbed the back of his head and glared around with sharp eyes.
He wondered if Rebecca had thrown it and looked her way, but by then, she was already walking lightly out of his sight.
“It’s not enough to satisfy me. But still, that was pretty refreshing.”
Rebecca let out a pleased little laugh—when suddenly, someone called out to her.
“Lady Rebecca.”
It was Pope Deslachino, smiling faintly as he approached.
Rebecca quickly bowed her head in greeting.
“I greet Your Holiness.”
“I heard you divorced. Congratulations.”
“Is that something to congratulate?”
Rebecca lifted her chin and asked back in a cold voice.
Her reaction made Deslachino falter.
“Didn’t you divorce so you could become a Saintess…?”
He was flustered.
When he first heard Rebecca had taken ill, he had practically cheered.
Rebecca was a woman every man would covet.
If only the Earl of Devonshire hadn’t snatched her up so quickly, Deslachino would have taken her as his wife. He had always regretted missing that chance.
If she became a Saintess now, then it was as good as having her in his grasp.
His eyes, clouded with greed, gleamed as he looked her up and down.
Even with her body completely covered, her grace and beauty could not be hidden.
“This filthy man…”
The moment she became single, the flies swarmed.
The ridiculousness of it made Rebecca laugh out loud.
“I clearly told your priests that I had no intention of becoming a Saintess.”
“But wasn’t that only because you were still the Countess of Devonshire?”
“No. Unfortunately, I still have no intention of becoming a Saintess.”
“Th-think carefully! As a divorced woman, your choices are limited. If you remarry, it’ll surely be with some mediocre man. And I hear your family’s circumstances aren’t exactly…”
“Your Holiness must be quite free of duties.”
“…Pardon?”
“To spare precious time on nothing more than a divorced woman—it seems you must be.”
“Ah, but if I could bring a Saintess with extraordinary divine power into the temple, my time is worth nothing in comparison.”
He smiled brightly, almost giddily. Rebecca frowned.
Now she understood why Julian always said this man was revolting.
He clearly intended to hound her until she agreed.
Rebecca stepped closer. Then, leaning toward his ear, she whispered.
The sudden stench of contempt in her words made Deslachino flinch in shock.
“I can see all too clearly what filthy thoughts you’re entertaining about my body. Stop those dirty eyes of yours, and try being a faithful servant of God instead.”
At the same time, she pressed her sharp heel deliberately into his foot. Covering her mouth with her hand, she murmured:
“Oh my. What a mistake.”
“Y-you…!”
His face flushed scarlet, but as worshippers recognized him and began to approach, Deslachino had no choice but to swallow his fury.
Rebecca clicked her tongue once and walked calmly past him.
“They call me the goddess of fortune? My life has been nothing but misfortune.”
She looked at the flood of people pouring endlessly into the temple.
Every one of them muttered to themselves with bloodshot eyes.
“Just once… if luck is with me just this once, I can fix everything.”
Rebecca raised her hands and covered her ears.
The endless rattle of dice echoing in her head threatened to drive her mad.
Finally escaping the temple, she breathed hard.
A long staircase stretched before her. She stood staring blankly at the white steps.
She hadn’t even thought about how she’d get home.
She had no money for a carriage.
Not that it mattered—her legs wouldn’t move.
“Freedom…”
Now, she could go anywhere.
She didn’t need to stage a desperate escape. She could simply walk wherever her feet carried her.
But Rebecca just stood frozen at the temple steps, blinking.
Had he really left her?
Was she truly free, never again to return to that prison?
It felt hollow. If separation could have been this simple, she wished she had tried in her previous life.
Rebecca let out a laugh tinged with emptiness.
They say a dog chained all its life won’t leave even when the leash is undone.
Her own leash had finally been cut, yet she stood there, rooted to the spot.
Hesitation crept in without her realizing.
Could she really move forward without anyone’s permission?
Was she allowed to leave behind this wretched journey?
It was only the beginning, and yet Rebecca already felt exhausted.
“Becky!”
Suddenly, a tender voice called out to her.
“Sister!”
“Rebecca! My daughter!”
Looking down, she saw her family waiting.
Theo, Danae, and even her twin sisters were there for her.
The home she had only glimpsed from afar in her past life—the one she hadn’t been able to touch—was now reaching out to her with open arms.
Danae ran up and hugged her. Then Theo, Livia, and Helena threw their arms around her too.
A suffocatingly warm embrace of love enveloped her.
In her family’s warmth, emotions Rebecca had pressed down, pressed again, and sealed away all these years finally surged forth like a storm.
“Uhh-hhh…”
The first to cry was Theo.
Then Danae, then Livia and Helena began to weep as well.
“This is bad.”
She couldn’t suppress her emotions anymore.
She didn’t have the strength, nor did she need to.
Rebecca surrendered her whole being to the storm bursting out from deep inside her.
She let everything go, honestly.
Tears poured from her eyes like a never-ending spring.
Passersby glanced at the Obelia family with curious, even odd looks, but none of that mattered.
Wiping her tears, Danae said:
“Becky, let’s go home now. To our home.”
Even inside the carriage, her family clung to her, afraid she might vanish again.
Rebecca gave them a faint smile.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“But, Sister…”
Rebecca stroked Helena’s head, the girl clutching her arm tightly.
With her swollen, tearful eyes, she rolled the words “our home” around in her mouth as if savoring candy.
It was sweet.
<Breaking News! Earl of Devonshire and His Wife Decide to Divorce>
Inside a smoothly rolling carriage, Julian sat frozen, staring at a tabloid for several minutes.
Normally, he would never glance at such trash, but seeing Rebecca’s photo splashed across the front page, he couldn’t look away.
Her face was covered by a black veil—recognition should have been impossible. Yet the article explicitly named her as Rebecca.
That disgusting reporter must have tailed her from the Earl’s estate.
The content itself was worthless speculation, declaring the divorce finalized even though the trial period wasn’t over.
Julian skimmed the article, then stared at Rebecca’s picture.
She was standing frozen in place, fists clenched tight.
“Haa…”
He folded the paper and sighed deeply.
The corner of his lips curved faintly.
He had never empathized with anyone before. But from that single photo, he felt her emotions vividly.
It was dirty.
Even when you get exactly what you wished for, the feeling could still be unbearably foul. Julian knew that well.
Like when he had wished all his life for his father’s death—and then it actually happened.
When he learned his father had died stroking the belly of his third wife, pregnant with Lily.
When he saw the man’s satisfied expression in his coffin, as though he had fulfilled his role of breeding to the end. The indescribable filth of that moment.
And then realizing he was now bound to follow in his father’s footsteps.
Rebecca stood exactly as he once had.
“Why do you keep making me…”
…look back?
…dig up the past, retrace, and end up suffering again?
Even so, Julian couldn’t tear his gaze away from her.
They hadn’t even spoken much yet—only a few times in person, most of their contact through letters. Like fashionable “pen friends.”
And yet, whenever he saw her, he felt strangely at ease.
It was fun, even thrilling, like meeting an old friend.
Today was no different.
He knew she probably wouldn’t even speak to him, as she hadn’t in recent days. Still, something compelled him into the carriage.
Soon, a wide meadow came into view.
Julian opened the window.
The cool wind, carrying the scent of grass, brushed through his hair.
The sound of the rustling field felt like a sweet song. He closed his eyes.
Now he understood why Helena and Livia called the Obelia family’s new home “the song of the fields.”
The day before Rebecca went to the temple with Zeppelin, the Obelias had moved to the Duchy of Johannes.
It was a bit secluded, but the small house overlooked green meadows.
The businesses Rebecca had advised Tanisha to pursue were thriving.
Thanks to that, Danae not only repaid Zeppelin but also had money left over.
But houses in the duchy cost many times more than in Irencia.
All they could afford was something much smaller than their old home.
Julian had offered to provide them with a better estate, but Danae firmly refused.
“I don’t want to repeat the same mistake twice.”
He thought he saw a flicker of regret on her face as she said it.
Julian respected her wishes and never pressed again.
Humble, but warm. That was the feeling that always came to mind when he thought of Rebecca’s family.
