divorce chapter 13

After confirming Duke Verhagen had entered the cathedral’s depths, I turned. I’d spent a suitable amount of time here; it seemed appropriate to leave. Setting down my glass, I began to navigate through the ornately dressed crowd.

“Oh, Lady Schneider!”

Some clueless idiot called my name so loudly! I almost screamed. Completely ignoring him, I made a beeline for the exit, only to have a rough hand grab my wrist.

“It is Lady Schneider! It’s me, Archie Doriden.”

“It’s been a while, Sir Doriden.”

This guy was an insignificant villain from the original story, the one who’d pestered Sierra, the female lead, and received a righteous smackdown from Lennard. How do I remember? Look at his unimaginative name. The author clearly couldn’t be bothered and just slapped something together. Anyway, in the original story, he was incredibly dense and needlessly aggressive.

“What a pleasure to see you here, Lady Schneider.”

“Really? Why?”

We weren’t exactly close. We’d met a few times regarding the flowers I’d supplied for his sister’s wedding—she’s now the Countess of Billion.

“Actually, I fell for you at first sight when you came to see my sister.”

“….”

I’d snagged a money-grubber. Over the past few years, navigating this social scene for business had taught me a few things. One of those was how to read people. I didn’t know why his attention had landed on me, but I was certain he’d be relentlessly clinging to my side.

“My family is quite respectable. And since I’m not a remarkable Awakened like Duke Verhagen, there’s no risk of me dying a violent death.”

“I’m sorry, but I’m not interested in marriage.”

“Please, reconsider.”

Archie Doriden suddenly dropped to his knees, drawing everyone’s attention to us. This was insane. 

I’ll have to act crazy.

I snatched a glass of wine from a passing waiter. If I splashed wine on his face, maybe he’d lose interest. Archie might be a gold digger, but I was no slouch in that department myself. Quick and dirty, that was the plan.

“My lady, please accept my heart!”

He suddenly grabbed my skirt. Startled, I almost threw the wine. That’s when it happened. Someone spun me around. Sparkling silver hair and icy blue eyes. A delicate appearance, yet with muscular shoulders and chest….

“Eek!”

And my wine landed not on Doriden’s head, but squarely on Lennard’s chest. An inexplicable silence fell over the once boisterous ballroom. My mind went blank, too.

***

Whoever said Doriden was clueless! The moment he realized who had turned me, he bolted. I tried my best to maintain composure, even though my hands were shaking like aspen leaves.

“I’m… I’m so sorry. Are you alright?”

“Do you not remember me? Ah, my hair was gray then, so perhaps you wouldn’t. I’m… the gray rabbit.”

Lennard’s words made my head spin. I could no longer deny he was the man I’d spent that night with.

“Wh… What are you talking about?”

My only option was to play dumb. I pretended not to know him. We’d been quite drunk that night. I could normally drink like a fish without getting drunk. Yet, even my memories were fragmented. Lennard, who was described as having a low tolerance for alcohol in the original story, surely wouldn’t remember much.

“You truly don’t remember?”

“Wh…Why are you doing this?”

Lennard grabbed my hand.

“Gasp!”

I clearly heard the collective intake of breath from the surrounding people. Lennard’s fastidiousness was well-known, so the mere fact he was holding my hand would be the talk of the town. Regardless, Lennard fiddled with my hand and smiled gently. The beautiful man’s smile involuntarily softened my own expression.

“See? If I can hold your hand like this, I couldn’t have been mistaken….”

“Lenn, Lenn!”

Benedict, his close friend, appeared behind him.

“Benny, I think this is the lady I’ve been searching for.”

“Hey… let go of her hand for a second.”

Finally, someone reasonable had arrived. But our male lead, completely oblivious, held my hand tightly.

“I won’t let you go again, my lady. Would you please tell me your name?”

I needed to shatter his illusion. But looking at him with those puppy-dog eyes, I couldn’t bring myself to speak. I quickly shot Benedict a pleading look.

“Lenn. Come over here for a moment, let’s talk….”

“What is it?” Lennard replied curtly to Benedict’s urging. Annoyance, pity, and a strange sense of vengeance flickered across his friend’s face.

“I don’t know if she’s your destined partner or whatever, but I do know this.”

He whispered to Lennard in a barely audible voice, “This is Lady Estelle Schneider.”

Lennard abruptly dropped my hand. His eyes, fixed on me, wavered intensely. Aware of the surrounding gazes, I casually greeted him.

“It’s a… pleasure to meet you. I’m Estelle Schneider.”

I made sure to emphasize that I was meeting him for the first time. Lennard was silent for a moment.