Chapter 1
There’s a saying, isn’t there?
“You only see what you know.”
Vendia was experiencing the truth of that saying firsthand.
“Haa. Just get to the point.”
She was looking at the man who had the gall to speak like that to his own wife.
“So, what is it?”
He didn’t even bother to fully sit down in his chair before rushing her with an annoyed tone.
But who was she? She had already anticipated and seen through everything about this situation.
Unaffected by her husband’s thorny coldness, Vendia dropped herself onto the chair. She saw his eyebrows twitch in disapproval at that moment, but ignored it.
“It’s something important.”
“Get to the point.”
She calmly opened her mouth to say something that needed to be said, only to be met with a two-syllable response.
He meant: cut the crap and speak directly.
‘God, what a jerk.’
Suppressing the urge to clench her fist, Vendia glared at her husband. Ever since she had entered his study, he hadn’t spared her even a glance, buried in his paperwork. She was his wife, but he treated her worse than a rock on the roadside.
That only solidified her conviction. Her decision, her path forward—now more than ever, she had to say it.
How should I say it to make a nice crack form on that smug face?
As she searched for the most impactful way to say it, her eyes landed on his left hand.
‘They always wear the wedding ring, don’t they.’
Even while ignoring his wife, his ring finger still bore the wedding band as if out of habit.
Wouldn’t it be nice if people could realize their feelings before doing something they’d regret?
Even as she thought that, Vendia couldn’t take her eyes off of him as he flipped through documents under the sunlight.
This was the first time she had seen his face this close, even though it had been two weeks since she possessed this body.
Looking closely, he was a man who suited sunlight more than shadows. His distinctive silver hair shimmered softly under the light like ripples along a sunlit river.
A flawless, well-shaped forehead, neatly arched brows perched atop prominent brow bones. His eyes, long and sharp with no double eyelids, gave off a cold impression, but their deep blue hue evoked the mysterious depths of the ocean.
His nose bridge flowed elegantly down to tightly pressed, full red lips. Even the way his Adam’s apple moved when he swallowed was striking.
His features were more defined than other men’s, yet still beautifully proportioned—a man whose looks could only be described as “noble.”
But contrary to his delicate face, his broad shoulders and thick chest…
‘Ah! Stop it!’
Realizing she had been openly admiring his looks, Vendia snapped out of it. She had almost forgotten her purpose, distracted by that dangerous and wickedly handsome face.
The subject of her involuntary praise: Denros Kalbermer.
Head of House Kalbermer, second only to the Crown Prince in imperial succession. The most elite man in the empire—and her husband.
Also, the male lead of this world.
The way she kept having thoughts about his dazzling face made it obvious: he was indeed the male lead.
Thankfully, she had prior knowledge. If she hadn’t, she probably would’ve just been bewitched by his looks and put up with everything.
‘Haha! Past me, well done!’
For the first time, she felt proud of the money she had spent on romance-fantasy novels, despite how thin they had made her wallet. Vendia resisted the urge to hug herself as she spoke.
“Denros.”
“Speak.”
Her hand, bearing only a faded ring mark, laid a piece of paper on his desk.
“Let’s get divorced.”
“……”
“I don’t want to be with you anymore.”
The moment she drove the nail in, Denros’s eyes finally shifted toward her. The paper she boldly handed him was labeled “Mutual Divorce Agreement.”
‘Ha! How does it feel to be hit with your first-ever divorce attack?’
For the first time, his blue eyes, which had remained impassive like a fortress, wavered.
By now, everyone must have realized—
That she was the female lead of this novel, and this world was of the “regret” genre.
What’s a regret novel?
It’s a story where the male lead wounds the female lead in every way possible, only to regret it too late, groveling and begging for forgiveness.
So what was this situation? Obviously a cliché.
In the early chapters of any regret story, it was practically law for the female lead to demand a divorce from the male lead.
Vendia was certain of this because regret novels always followed a formula.
They marry out of mutual benefit. The heroine falls for the hero, but he treats her coldly. Eventually, drained and hurt, she asks for a divorce. The hero, of course, refuses.
From there, the story begins. The hero grows desperate as the once-loving heroine becomes cold. He chases after her when she runs away, realizing she was his true love all along, and begs for a second chance.
All the regret stories she’d read had been like that.
So this was just part of the setup for the story.
And after observing for two weeks, she was convinced: Denros was the textbook regret-story male lead.
- Separate bedrooms.
- Never shows up for meals, always claiming to be busy.
- When they run into each other by chance, he glares like she’s a bug and walks away.
- Completely ignores his wife being disrespected by the staff due to their icy relationship.
And more—but she’d spare the list.
‘Now then, what’ll he do?’
Would he tear up the divorce papers like other regret-story heroes? Or coldly tell her to leave and stop spouting nonsense? Or maybe just act like an immovable brick wall?
She was ready for any reaction. She had predicted them all.
With full confidence that things would go as expected, her pride soared high… when at last, his lips parted.
“All right.”
“I knew you’d sa—… huh?”
“Let’s do it.”
“…W-what?”
Had she misheard? That answer wasn’t even in the options.
“I’ll divorce you.”
Wait, what?
No, that’s not how this goes. You’re supposed to rip up the document!
You should be yelling at me to get out and stop wasting your time!
You should be furious that I brought this nonsense to you!
“Do I sign here?”
While she stood frozen in shock, Denros calmly picked up a fountain pen.
“Well, yes, that’s the spot to sign, but are you seriously—”
“Yes. You sign as well and submit it today. I’ll inform the butler.”
Before she could finish her startled sentence, the signed paper was already in front of her.
He even urged her to take it quickly, as if his arm hurt.
“…Huh.”
She couldn’t hide her stunned expression as she accepted the paper.
Was this… a dream?
“No need for this anymore.”
But it wasn’t. Denros coolly removed the wedding ring from his finger without hesitation. Then, right in front of her, he threw it into the drawer.
The sheer finality of it made Vendia flinch. She felt like she, too, had just been tossed aside like that ring.
“If you’re done, you may leave.”
“No, wait… this isn’t what I—”
“Butler.”
Cutting her murmuring short, Denros called the butler.
“You summoned me, My Lord?”
The previously closed door flung open as the butler rushed in.
“Escort the lady to her room and see that the divorce papers are processed today.”
His tone had already shifted. From “wife” to “lady.” It was a heartless dismissal.
“R-Really? Seriously?!”
By the time she snapped back to her senses, she was already being dragged out by the butler.
As she helplessly drifted away from him, she saw Denros through the closing door—calmly immersed in his work once again, without a trace of regret or emotion.
The blue eyes that had once flickered were now not just still, but cold. As if to declare, “It was all just your delusion.”
This isn’t right…
‘Wait… aren’t I supposed to be the female lead of a regret novel?!’
