divorce chapter 21

Rewinding time to the dawn of that day, the day he was to depart for the battlefield. Lennard had finished his preparations for the expedition when he finally heard the news of his temporary consort from Benedict.

“What are you talking about?”

“So, um, you’re not going with me, but with Lady Estelle…” Benedict instinctively clamped his mouth shut. He felt as though his throat might be pierced if he babbled on as he usually did.

“Tell me what you’ve done, right now.”

“I-It’s nothing, really.”

“Benedict.” At Lennard’s low, gravelly voice, Benedict stammeringly explained what had transpired with the Crown Prince. They had, without his knowledge, entered his name for the temporary consort matching.

“And?” It couldn’t possibly end there. There had to be another reason why Estelle’s name had appeared precisely on his turn.

“Bri-Bribery…” The Crown Prince, it seemed, had bribed a priest to set aside a slip of paper with her name on it.

Lennard sighed. The situation was beyond retrieval, and he had to depart. Ignoring Benedict, he climbed into the carriage. Just before they set off, Benedict clung to the window and yelled,

“Since things have turned out this way, make the best of it!”

“Make the best of it?” Lennard laughed incredulously. He had already been rejected by Estelle several times. Once after the broken engagement, and again by her continued concealment of her identity. Recalling the meaning of the flowers she had sent, even if Lennard had guessed her true identity, she had been asking him to pretend otherwise.

“Hey, you’re not going to give up just because you’ve been rejected twice, are you? Think of all those noblewomen who confessed their feelings for you!”

“You don’t seem to consider that it’s made me even more disillusioned with women.” Even when he had a fiancée, there had been countless women who had resorted to physical advances. This was the primary reason Lennard’s aversion to such behavior had worsened. Having witnessed it all firsthand, Benedict realized his blunder and his lips tightened.

“Tell His Highness I’ll lodge a personal complaint about this when I return.” With those final words, Lennard coldly signaled the carriage to depart.

Throughout the journey to the Earl’s estate, he pondered how to treat Estelle. Should he continue to feign ignorance? Or should he confront her, revealing that he knew her true identity? At first, he had tried to forget. He had wanted to forget, as she wished, and for them each to go their separate ways. But there were times when he would think of Estelle. Had she felt like this when he had ignored her and wandered the battlefield alone? In truth, Lennard had been completely ignoring Estelle’s existence, as if she were not there at all. He was now experiencing the very treatment he had inflicted upon her in the past. He hadn’t imagined it would be this agonizing. What if he had acted differently? What if he had listened to his friends and met with Estelle a few times a year? What if he hadn’t left her side in Dali? No. It was all futile speculation. Lennard resolved to conclude this matter as dispassionately as possible.

It was just a fleeting encounter. So, he would simply let it go again. Lennard believed he could control his feelings.

Then, the carriage stopped. It lurched as the driver unloaded the luggage, and voices could be heard outside. Glancing out the window, Lennard saw Estelle walking from the manor house. Her shoulders slumped, she trudged towards them.

‘Oh.’ It was clear how much she didn’t want to be there.

The door clicked open, and his eyes met Estelle’s. Her eyes widened, staring blankly, as if she hadn’t known he would be the one accompanying her. The short walk in the cold wind had left her cheeks flushed.

“Please get in, my lady.” He regretted the words as soon as he spoke them. Even to his own ears, they sounded too sharp. Hiding his remorse, he stepped down from the carriage to escort her. Estelle stared at his outstretched hand for a moment before hopping inside. Lennard retracted his hand with a wry smile and climbed back in.

“Where are the others waiting?” She seemed to know nothing about the temporary consort arrangement. He couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy. Lennard decided he should be kinder to her.

“We’ll be going directly to the western front.” Fortunately, his voice was gentler this time. But Estelle seemed startled by the fact that they were going alone.

“Just the two of us, Your Grace?”

“It’s customary for the Awakened and their consorts to travel in a designated carriage.” It was a lie. He hadn’t arranged for another carriage, assuming he would be traveling with Benedict. No, even that morning, he could have sent a separate carriage for her. But he hadn’t.

As the morning sun finally rose, a dry light filtered into the dim carriage. Lennard stared blankly at Estelle’s profile. Perhaps it was the sunlight, but her half-closed amber eyes looked like pure gold. Beneath them, her lips were pressed firmly together. He felt a sudden urge to touch her pout, as if she were angry. Her endearingly honest expression was the same as he remembered from Dali.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Her sudden voice startled him back to reality.

“You remind me of someone I know. My apologies.” He averted his gaze, feeling as though his shameful desire had been exposed. Hadn’t he resolved, just before she entered the carriage, to let things go? Yet here he was, barely half a day later, staring at her in a daze. He felt pathetic. Lennard forced himself to turn and look out the window.