Chapter 01
Maia bit her lip. The divorce papers in her hand were crumpled beyond saving.
Is this really the right thing to do?
Her body trembling, Maia stood up and wandered the study where he had yet to return.
Muffled voices—those of the Duke returning from an outing with his attendants—filtered in from beyond the door.
Maia hurried to take her seat.
She had to hide the storm of anxiety within, presenting herself as the perfect Duchess as always.
Click.
The door opened, and a man stepped in, the cold light of ice in his eyes.
Eyes the color of an indifferent sea fell upon Maia.
“…Why are you here?”
His voice, thick with displeasure, fell heavily in the room.
Even so, Maia forced a calm smile.
“I have something to discuss with you, Your Grace. Are you finished with your work for the day?”
As always, Maia swallowed the turmoil that had plagued her for the past month, looking up at her husband, the Duke of Western.
“…What is so important that you’ve come to me like this?”
His navy eyes, glimpsed through a monocle, met hers with a smooth sarcasm.
It lasted only a moment. Sitting back comfortably across from her, he waited, and Maia tightened her grip on the papers in her hand.
“Speak.”
“Your Grace, please grant me a divorce.”
Their words overlapped—hers tumbling out just as he opened his mouth.
Maia’s face turned pale.
“…I’m not so old that my ears are failing me. What did you just say?”
But it was already too late.
Even with their words tangled, the Duke had heard her clearly. His once composed expression turned sharp as he fixed his gaze on her.
It was the look of a man staring at someone insane.
There was no taking it back now.
Maia squeezed her eyes shut and thrust the documents toward him.
“Though you haven’t said it, I believe this is something you’ve wanted for a long time, Your Grace. Perhaps it’s already too late. I’m just a middle-class woman, unworthy of a man who bears the blood of the Imperial Family. And above all, Your Grace…”
Words spilled out of her like a flood, but Maia lifted her head there, needing to see his face as she said it.
She thought he would have expected this. Maybe she had been wrong.
His body was rigid, his eyes trembling ever so slightly as he looked at her.
“…You still haven’t forgotten your previous wife.”
Maia spoke, as if bewitched, unable to tear her gaze from his face.
The previous wife. The Duke of Western’s greatest taboo.
As she uttered the words, his expression twisted far more violently than before.
Fear took hold of Maia, and she lowered her head.
She was not strong enough to face his anger.
“So please, let’s divorce.”
Her heart thundered in her ears, so loud she feared he could hear it too.
Maia Hansberk.
As her two simple names suggested, she was not a noblewoman.
But she wasn’t the “Cinderella” of a story either, born into poverty.
She had been born into a wealthy merchant family, raised in comfort without ever lacking for anything.
Yet not being a noble meant that, no matter how wealthy they were, they lived in a completely different world.
She couldn’t attend the Royal Academy, and from childhood, she had heard countless sneers about their “wealth built with undignified money.”
Whenever nobles visited their home for business, she was scolded for even making eye contact, let alone speaking a word.
The nobles, at the top of the hierarchy, despised the middle class even more than they did the commoners beneath them.
As the daughter of a merchant, Maia Hansberk was destined to live quietly, never looking upward, just as her parents had done. She knew this deeply.
And she had resolved to accept that fate.
Until she met him.
The man before her now.
Duke Lukas d’Agnolis Western.
“Today, the Marquis of Keppel, the Grand Duke of Adelstein, and the Duke of Western are visiting for business! Miss Maia…”
“I know. I’ll leave.”
Nothing good ever came from crossing paths with nobles.
Once Maia was old enough to understand, she would leave the house entirely whenever such visits occurred.
She smiled faintly at the maid who nervously watched her while mentioning the Marquis of Keppel’s name.
And, as always, she slipped out to the garden.
What noble would bother walking through a merchant’s garden, one far humbler than their own estates? The garden was the only place she could breathe.
Rustle, rustle.
Her dress brushed against the grass, a soft, pleasant sound filling her ears.
Maia let out a slow breath.
Splash.
A foreign sound pierced through the peaceful rustling.
Water. The gentle sound of water lapping.
Maia blinked and lifted her head.
Reflected in her violet eyes was a scene she hadn’t noticed before.
Not too far, yet not too close, there was a small lake.
And before it stood someone Maia hadn’t seen.
From his appearance alone, she knew he wasn’t a servant.
Was it fate’s cruel joke? At that moment, the clouds that had hidden the sun pulled back, flooding the earth with light.
The afternoon sun scattered across the gentle ripples of the lake, dazzlingly bright.
And the man standing there, looking down at that beautiful scene, was even more radiant.
Silver embroidery on his dark blue uniform shimmered like the rippling water.
His navy hair, tied loosely, swayed softer than the finest silk.
His eyes, the same deep blue, held a gentle smile, contrasting with their cold hue.
Basking in the warmth of the sun, he remained there for a long time.
And so did Maia.
Not because of the sunlight, but because the man was beautiful.
So dazzling, like a dream, she couldn’t look away.
“Duke Western! Sorry to keep you waiting.”
The dreamy moment shattered at the sudden voice of a young man.
…Duke Western?
Maia, who was about to hide behind the bushes, froze at the name.
She stared at the man, who turned to look at the newcomer.
“…Your Highness. Have you completed the negotiations?”
The young Imperial Prince answered with a grumble.
“Yes. Dealing with these middle-class merchants is tiresome. And how ridiculous is it for a man and woman to meet alone in the same room? Just wait and see, in the next assembly…”
His words faded as they walked away.
At that moment, Maia felt as if cold water had been poured over her, waking her from a dream.
The warm sun had already set without her realizing.
Standing in the now-dark garden, Maia sank into a heavy silence.
Duke Western. The young Duke of Western.
The only surviving son of the former Imperial Princess, cousin to the Emperor, and raised by the Emperor himself.
A man rumored to be betrothed to the First Imperial Princess.
At that moment, Maia decided.
She would bury the feelings that had just bloomed in her heart.
A Duke favored by the Emperor and the daughter of a merchant—a pairing that could only exist in the pages of the naive stories she used to read as a child.
Maia smiled faintly.
She would seal this feeling inside a black coffin and bury it deep within her heart, so it could never crawl back out.
“Miss Maia! Are you here? Is everything alright?”
“…No.”
Maia looked back at the lakeside where he had been.
“It’s nothing.”
The seventeen-year-old girl whispered softly, and in that moment, she killed her first love.
Two months later, news arrived that the young Duke of Western was to marry the First Imperial Princess.
Returning to the present, Maia fiercely regretted that she had spoken the words without even being able to meet the Duke’s gaze.
I must have been crazy. Why did I make the foolish choice to become this man’s wife, when I had already decided to give up?
Anger and frustration welled up inside her, and Maia clenched her fists.
She had never once dreamed of becoming a Duchess.
And yet, the man who had suddenly proposed to her was the same one now glaring at her so fiercely.
“…I’ve already consulted a lawyer and prepared all the necessary documents. All you need to do is sign them, Your Grace. Now, I will take my leave.”
She spat out the words like a machine gun and stood up abruptly.
She walked quickly to the door, closing it softly without a sound. The Duke of Western said nothing.
…Was it selfish of me to hope he would stop me here?
Maia pressed down on the sorrow rising within her with quiet determination.
The door closed.
And, as always, silence settled over the room once more.
At dawn, when only a few servants were awake, Maia moved quickly to prepare for her departure.
Three days had passed since she handed him the divorce papers. In that time, the Duke of Western had not spoken a single word to her.
Which could only mean he agreed to the divorce as well.
If he had any objections, he would have said so already.
Yes, he wouldn’t have simply sat in silence, eating at the table beside her, suffocating everyone with his presence.
Remembering that, Maia shivered.
