The reason Duchess Bovary had been sitting on the café steps sobbing was this:
“I’ve lost count of how many affairs it’s been now. At this point, I doubt he’s even trying to hide them anymore.”
“You must’ve suffered terribly all this time, Duchess…”
Before I knew it, I was seated beside her on the stairs, gently patting her back. Encouraged by my sympathy, she finally began to release the resentment and anguish she’d been holding in.
Her husband’s latest affair—the eleventh one, apparently—was with an unknown stage actress named Stephanie, who was at least twenty years younger than the Duchess.
“That shameless woman had the nerve to show up at this cake shop. I didn’t want a scene, so I told her calmly that this wasn’t the place for her and asked her to leave. And what did she do? She glared at me for a long moment… and then had one of her maids hand me this.”
She held a crumpled, tear-stained piece of paper in her hands. I took the now half-shredded letter carefully and smoothed it out, frowning as I read:
The one who doesn’t know her place here is you, Claire.
Duke Bovary’s heart and body belong entirely to me, and that includes his title and wealth.
Isn’t it you who’s spending my man’s money to visit these fancy cake shops, even though he gives you no affection at all?
I’ll repay today’s insult through the Duke himself.
It won’t be long before you can no longer call yourself a ‘Bovary.’
— Stephanie Bovary
“Miss Stephanie certainly has an extraordinary amount of nerve.”
I couldn’t help but scoff at her ridiculously bold provocation. As I folded the letter back up with care, the Duchess let out something between a scream and a sob.
“She had the audacity to send me a letter signed ‘Bovary,’ as if she were the Duchess herself!”
“That’s right, this Stephanie has absolutely no right to the name ‘Bovary,’ none at all.”
“But do you know what happened after that?”
A bitter smirk twisted across the Duchess’s tear-streaked face. Her voice turned sharp and high-pitched.
“Not long after, the shop manager showed up looking terribly uncomfortable and politely asked me to give up my seat. It was humiliating!”
“The shop manager?”
“That impudent girl must have had my husband pull some strings. He owns this cake shop after all. It was her way of showing me which of us is closer to being a ‘Bovary’ now!”
Duchess Bovary trembled with rage. Her voice cracked with emotion, her pride deeply wounded.
“I knew he was a philanderer when I married him. But I endured it all for twenty years—because it was my duty, because of appearances, because I was the Duchess… sob…”
“You’ve done more than enough, Duchess. You’re known as the most influential woman in the Empire’s high society for a reason.”
“I can’t stand the injustice. I’m still trying so hard for the Ducal House, and this is how I’m repaid…”
Today’s gathering was apparently with the wives of Houses with close business ties to the Bovary Ducal House. The Duchess trembled pitifully. I gently squeezed her hand and whispered warmly.
“This isn’t your fault. The one in the wrong here is the Duke—he’s the one treating you with contempt when he should be defending your dignity.”
The Duchess looked at me with a conflicted expression. Then, her lips curled faintly into a wry smile.
“It does feel a little better, now that I’ve said it all out loud.”
“I’m glad to hear that.”
I replied in a soft, soothing tone, trying to comfort her. Before I knew it the Duchess seemed calmer now, her tears drying, though her gaze remained fixed awkwardly on the handkerchief in her lap.
“I’ve never told anyone these things before… It’s strange, but I feel comfortable talking to you, even though we’ve just met.”
“I hear that often.”
I offered her a gentle smile.
It made sense, of course. This was the same skill I’d developed dealing with clients seeking divorces from cheating husbands in my previous life.
Then, Duchess Bovary bowed her head to me.
“Please forgive the disrespect I’ve shown the Grand Duchess until now. I know it may sound like an excuse, but it wasn’t entirely my will.”
“What do you mean… it wasn’t your will, Duchess?”
I asked, puzzled. The Duchess lowered her eyes, still tinged with tears.
“My husband is aligned with His Highness the Crown Prince. He ordered me to distance myself from Grand Duchess Richard. So I respected my husband’s wishes.”
The Duchess’ voice faded, full of regret. But then she clenched her fist, eyes steeling with resolve.
“But I can’t go on living with that man anymore. Even if I have to give up everything I’ve had up until now.”
The moment she finished, my eyes gleamed. Time to switch to business mode.
“Excellent, Duchess. I’ve been waiting to hear those words.”
“Pardon?”
“I can help you. Swiftly and effectively.”
She looked at me, confused by the sudden shift. In response, I pulled out my notebook and pen with practiced ease.
“What level of revenge are you hoping for?”
“Revenge? I-I don’t quite—”
“If you were to take revenge on someone for the mental anguish you’ve suffered, who exactly would that be?”
I narrowed my eyes sharply and raised my pen. Duchess Bovary stumbled over her words, caught off guard.
“W-Well… my husband and all the women he’s been with, I suppose?”
“Perfect. Target: husband and mistresses.”
I jotted down the Duchess’ request without hesitation, then met her wide-eyed stare.
“There’s no need for you to give up anything you currently enjoy. I’ll make sure you receive the maximum possible share in the divorce settlement.”
“So… are you saying you’ll help me get divorced?”
I smiled brightly and tore the page cleanly from my notebook. I held it out in front of the Duchess’ eyes.
“Of course. And I’ll take care of all of it—for this price.”
Duchess Bovary’s eyes dropped to the very bottom of the memo, where I’d double-underlined the final line.
Divorce + Alimony + Asset Division = 0 Gold!
* * *
After our chance encounter in front of the cake shop, Duchess Bovary began to truly open up to me and entrusted me with handling her divorce. To assist her properly, I agreed to stay as a guest at the Bovary Ducal Residence for the time being.
The Grand Duke didn’t look too pleased when I told him I’d be away from the Grand Ducal Residence. From his perspective, it was probably frustrating that I was leaving to take on someone else’s case.
“No matter what case I’m handling, Your Grace always comes first!”
Only after I loudly proclaimed my ‘Grand Duke First’ policy did I finally win his reluctant approval.
A few days later. In the Bovary Ducal Residence drawing room.
The Duchess Bovary’s pen, which had been faithfully recording the words I dictated onto a fine sheet of stationery, suddenly paused. Though she was much older than me, I had asked her to treat me informally.
“Elena, didn’t you say you would help me get divorced?”
She looked uneasy, as though something didn’t sit right with her. To reassure her, I offered a sweet smile.
“Of course. Writing a reply to the eleventh mistress’s letter is the first step to the Duchess’ successful divorce.”
“But this… doesn’t sound like something someone who wants a divorce would write, does it?”
Duchess Bovary glanced nervously at the letter she had been writing in elegant cursive, momentarily forgetting even noble etiquette.
Dear Miss Stephanie,
I am well aware that you have been enjoying a little entertainment with my husband, Duke Bovary.
He often finds himself in such passing entanglements.The first was Miss Rosalyn, to whom the Duke gifted a 7-carat diamond ring and twelve dresses.
The second, Miss Lillian, to whom the Duke gifted a year and three months of living expenses and a yacht.
The third… the fourth… (omitted)
To the tenth, Miss Patricia, to whom the Duke gifted a countryside villa.
I wonder what level of affection he has shown to you, the eleventh, Miss Stephanie.The Duke may soon take on a twelfth lover, but I have always held my place as his wife, and I still love him dearly.
Of course, I believe the Duke cherishes me far more than he does Miss Stephanie.
I will always be here.
— Claire Bovary
Pleased with the letter’s tone and delivery, I nodded with satisfaction.
“Not at all. This is exactly the kind of letter a Duchess seeking divorce should send.”
“But this just makes it seem like I’m acknowledging all of his affairs…”
The Duchess trailed off, her expression twisted in horror at the very thought. I helpfully filled in the rest.
“and that the Duchess still loves her husband?”
“Yes…”
Duchess Bovary clearly wasn’t thrilled about the direction this was going.
“It sounds exactly like something my parents would’ve told me to write.”
“Didn’t you say the Zacharias Ducal House was opposed to the divorce?”
“They’re worried I’ll be the one to ruin the longstanding alliance between our houses.”
The Duchess gave an exhausted sigh. Claire Zacharias—her maiden name—was the reason she had endured her husband’s infidelities all these years.
Bovary and Zacharias, the two most powerful Ducal Houses in the Empire, had been rivals for decades. Tired of their mutual hostility, they forged a political marriage in hopes of peace, and the result was the Bovary Ducal couple.
“My marriage was basically a business deal. We even founded a jointly owned merchant guild to show our commitment.”
“I see.”
I flipped through the stack of documents listing House Bovary’s holdings as I replied.
“After the late Duke Bovary passed away, my husband inherited the title and took control of the joint business. He’s been intentionally excluding me.”
“You’re afraid if you demand a divorce first, that you might lose your stake in the business?”
“Exactly. My husband refuses to acknowledge any of my accomplishments for the Ducal House.”
“Which is why the Duchess needs me.”
I met her gaze with one filled with quiet confidence. The Duchess managed a faint smile, though concern still lingered in her eyes.
“But won’t he look down on me even more after this letter?”
“Actually, that’s the entire point.”
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