Chapter 6.
Something Smells Fishy
Raymond instinctively stepped back as Diabella approached him with narrowed, catlike eyes.
“Marchioness! Will three dormitory wings be enough?”
Thankfully, at that moment, the construction overseer cut in between them.
“That should be sufficient. Of course, it depends on how many excellent teachers His Lordship will recruit.”
Diabella shot Raymond a sidelong glare of disapproval as she replied.
“…Teachers?”
Wait. Did she just say “His Louse-ship” instead of “His Lordship”? Did I mishear?
Raymond rubbed at his ear absently.
“To build a school for the townsfolk—truly, my lady, you are merciful and gracious!” the overseer bowed deeply, showering the Marchioness with praise.
“A… school? You mean what you’re building here is a school?” Raymond asked, stunned.
“Yes, that’s right. My lady pitied the townsfolk who lacked opportunities to learn, and so ordered this school built. Such a noble deed! She begged us to keep it secret to surprise you, my lord, and it’s been so hard not to speak of it. Are you pleased?”
The overseer’s eyes gleamed with hope, eager for approval.
“Ah…”
At the unexpected words, Raymond was left speechless. So it wasn’t some luxurious mansion to cling to after divorce—it was a school. Raymond forced himself to stay calm and glanced sidelong at Diabella.
Noticing his gaze, her chin lifted even higher.
“Hmph!”
With her chin raised sky-high, she lowered her eyes with excruciating slowness and grace.
Raymond was taller, and knew it was impossible for her to actually look down on him. Yet under that gaze, he felt shrunken, small.
“Ah, wife… I may have somewhat… misunderstood…”
Diabella snapped her body away with a sharp movement. She’d kept the project secret because she knew, with her reputation, he’d suspect her and oppose it no matter what.
Still, she had thought when the school was complete, he’d at least recognize her sincerity—if not praise her outright. But no, he must think she was throwing tantrums to avoid divorce.
She whipped her head back, glared, and hissed one final phrase:
“Pompous, self-absorbed tyrant.”
“?”
The strange words struck Raymond like a curse. His eyes went wide.
In my life, I’ve never been so insulted. I don’t even know what it means. And yet… I do. Somehow, I feel I know.
As she turned to leave, Raymond hurried after her.
“M-my apologies, wife.”
“Don’t speak if you don’t understand.”
“Yes… You’re right. I judged hastily, listening to others. I apologize.”
“Why apologize at all, then?”
“Wife… it’s just… are your words getting shorter again?”
“Can’t I mutter to myself? Even in private? Do you even use honorifics when you talk to yourself?”
“Y-you…”
Oops. A slip. Diabella flicked her tongue, then rushed to cover.
“Anyway! From this moment on, I hope you’ll stop doubting it—I will divorce you, and I will leave within a month. Without regret.”
“…Understood. If that is your wish… I accept it.”
“Yes. Mark it well. If it were up to me, I’d leave this instant, but the physician insists I rest longer. You’ve received the documents, haven’t you? If you doubt it, summon him again.”
“I wouldn’t go so far as to doubt that.”
“Wouldn’t you? Hard to say—you’ve been fooled plenty already, haven’t you?”
Her narrowed eyes pierced him. Raymond’s face flushed faintly.
“And once you submit the divorce papers, send me the receipt.”
“…The receipt? Do you think I’d hide them away?”
“Who knows?”
She shrugged.
“I know divorce isn’t instantaneous. But I want proof the papers are properly filed. Just in case.”
“As if I would—! …Very well. I’ll send the receipt within the week.”
Raymond nearly flared again, but swallowed it down.
She thinks I’d steal the papers? Ridiculous. I’ll file them immediately. But… is she truly serious?
He studied her face, uncertain.
Then he asked quietly: “By the way… did you really return the taxes to the people?”
“Yes. It was a foolish mistake. I only hope to mend it now, late though it is.”
“…Strange, the way you speak—as if it wasn’t you who did it.”
Well, it wasn’t. Hajin thought to herself. But what could she do? This body had done it.
Really, woman. Why’d you ever pull that stunt? She cursed the body’s former owner and held her head.
“Wife? Are your symptoms returning?”
“Y-yes… well… After almost dying, I realized how wrong my past actions were. Perhaps I was not in my right mind then. I only wish now to leave something good behind for the people, as apology.”
Raymond stared, wide-eyed. She was sincere. Even when she spoke of the receipt, he’d suspected… but no. She really was preparing to leave. Relief washed over him. Yet with it, something else.
She’s really leaving?
He had longed for it. Her cruelty, her chaos—he’d wished her gone. To vanish from his life.
He’d expected resistance, endless schemes to stay. But she wanted divorce. What a blessing! And yet… his heart felt oddly heavy.
Why?
Is it guilt? For being harsh to a woman who nearly died?
That must be it.
I’m too softhearted. That’s my problem.
Raymond shrugged. That softness was why he’d endured her so long, when he should have cast her out ages ago. He patted his own shoulder in self-consolation.
What are you doing?
Oops. He’d forgotten she was right there.
Diabella smirked crookedly, one corner of her lip curling—the exact look she’d given when calling him “annoying.”
“A-hem… Well. A school will surely delight the people. For once, you’ve done a good deed.”
“Yes. For once,” she said sourly.
“That’s not what I meant—”
She cut him off lightly. “It’s true. I’ve only ever caused trouble until now.”
Even if true, failing to praise her properly left Raymond feeling awkward. Why was it, these days, that he felt so unsettled in front of her?
“Oh my, what brings you all the way here, my lord!”
A carriage slowed to a halt. From its window, Angeleca leaned out, greeting him brightly.
“Ah… just some business to attend to,” Raymond answered, glancing sidelong at Diabella. He still hadn’t told her about Angeleca’s investigation. Now they faced each other—awkward.
“Am I invisible?”
Diabella stepped forward.
“Ah… the Marchioness is here too. Are you… well?”
“Yes, thanks to that excellent medicine, I’m in perfect health.”
“……”
Angeleca bit her lip.
“And what of that investigation you mentioned?” Diabella asked.
Raymond turned reluctantly from Angeleca to her. In a low whisper, he admitted:
“There is no evidence that Lady Miles knowingly gave poison. Without proof, no sentence can be passed…”
Truthfully, Angeleca was still under order to present herself for questioning at the Marquis’ house. With no proof, he couldn’t detain her.
But even so—her bold, unashamed demeanor embarrassed him before Diabella.
“……”
Diabella sighed inwardly. Of course.
“My lord, you are truly merciful!”
Angeleca’s ears perked. She hurried down from her carriage and bowed deeply.
“I would never commit such a dreadful act! I only feared for the Marchioness’ health, when she was struck so terribly…” Tears brimmed.
Always ending with tears. But if you mean to worry about me, shouldn’t you look at me when you say it?
Diabella shook her head.
“Truly, my lord’s compassion is boundless. Why, even when the Marchioness pawned the heirloom necklace, you forgave her!”
“……”
Silence.
What now. Why drag me in? Why bring up the past?
Wait—an heirloom necklace?
“…That necklace was an heirloom?” Diabella blurted.
She vaguely remembered reading in the novel: Diabella had sold a necklace given by the Marquis, and he’d been furious. But it hadn’t mentioned it was an heirloom. Perhaps because the story never focused on her.
“You didn’t know?”
Raymond stared, incredulous.
A year ago, he’d gifted her the family heirloom. Instead of treasuring it, she’d sold it. His mother had demanded he cast her out. It had taken all his effort to calm her rage. And she claimed ignorance?
“Did you… ever tell me?” Diabella asked carefully.
Their relationship had never been close. Surely he hadn’t explained each gift’s meaning. He must have handed it over with a grudging “here.”
“……”
Bingo. His silence was answer enough.
So why give such a treasure to someone you despised? Was it mere custom?
She studied him, baffled. Then, glancing toward Angeleca—she caught sight of her lips, hidden beneath long hair, curling in a sly smile.
She’s… enjoying this?
Suspicious. Very suspicious. Something smelled off.
Diabella decided to toss out some bait.
“Though it was long ago, I do regret not treasuring such a gift. If I repay the cost at divorce, will it suffice as apology? I believe it was worth… 20,000 marks?”
“Oh, Marchioness! What are you saying? 20,000? That necklace was worth 2,000,000 marks!”
Angeleca’s head snapped up, eyes flashing.
