Why Are You Sorry, Darling?

Chapter 3

The first thing my eyes registered was his jet-black hair as dark as spilled ink, so dark it sucked up all the light. His bangs, usually neatly combed back, now fell over his forehead, revealing his strong eyebrows and prominent forehead. The line of his nose was sharp yet refined, enhancing his masculinity, and the distinctive shape of his eyes, which seemed as if they’d been carefully carved by a sculptor, added depth to his character.

Even his mere gaze was captivating. I stared at the ice-cold figure and pale skin and lowered my eyes. The hard lines of his body were evident even through his clothes. This was the Black Lion of the Empire, the Warmonger who brings hell to the enemy, the Butcher of the Battlefield. His silhouette was sharp and lean, proving his reputation as the greatest swordsman of the empire wasn’t an empty one.

“You’ve come home?” I asked.

In enemy lands, his red eyes were said to symbolize the blood of war, but when I’d first seen them in person, they’d reminded me of exquisite gems instead. These eyes, known as Pian, were a unique genetic mutation that appeared only in this empire. The male lead of the novel also had them, and later plot developments explained that these red eyes came hand in hand with special abilities. Knowing this, my husband became a mentor teaching the male lead about his powers.

“You’re back early,” I said weakly with a glance at the window, playing the role of a wife trying to hide her heartbreak.

“This is my house. Does it matter what time I come?”

My mood soured at his cold reply. I wasn’t even being sarcastic, so why was he being so hostile? What right did he have to be so rude when he’d just returned from visiting his mistress?

Of course, he wasn’t wrong. For someone who’d been with his mistress, he had come home early. Yes. Very, very early. He slept more often at Seira’s house than at the manor, after all.

His footsteps rang out heavy and low as he walked toward me. I got up from my seat to properly greet him, stumbling slightly from having just woken up. My husband didn’t bother reaching out to steady me. I straightened up on my own and looked up at him. I hadn’t even expected him to help. Those noble hands of his were reserved for Seira, after all. Not to say I was disappointed by that—not one bit.

“Are you going somewhere?” I asked. Because he was so tall, there was a big difference between our heights, so I had to crane my neck quite a bit.

“I’m going out again.”

His voice was deep and mellow, but I heard it without any interest. Yeah, yeah. I’m sure you are, I muttered silently to myself and lowered my gaze. Inside the manor, and especially in front of the duke, I needed to present myself as a duchess who only had eyes for her husband.

That way, I could ensure a smooth divorce in the future. In the case that someone ended up testifying about our marital life, I needed to make sure there couldn’t possibly be any blame on my part. In my past world as well, they’d said that if you wanted a divorce, you should gather evidence without ever doing anything you could be faulted for. I’d seen that on a legal show on TV, but it was much the same way here. Thanks to that, I was faithfully playing the role of the perfect wife and not enjoying it very much at all, but I just needed to hang in there a bit longer. After all, a bountiful blessing comes to the hunter who waits.

Duke DeLov, right-hand man to the emperor and the Butcher of the Battlefield to enemy countries, this man who was reverently called the Black Lion of the Empire... had succeeded to the position of duke before he was even twenty, winning this position of great glory with his own hands. Now in his late twenties, he was an attractive man coveted by every woman in the empire—except me, of course. I was just the minority who hadn’t jumped on the bandwagon.

Just when I was thinking yet again about what a waste his flawless looks were, my silent husband finally spoke. “My lady. I heard you met with someone today.”

I widened my eyes slightly, dropping my head.

“With whom did you meet?”

My husband had planted his minions outside the gallery, so I knew he would hear about it, but… Out of sight, my expression turned cold. Wow. So he’d rushed home just to ask me this? I didn’t have time to leisurely sit back and enjoy the situation. Despite my surprise, my mind was extraordinarily quick.

“Yes, I met someone.” In the novel, the duchess couldn’t properly look at her husband, so I adopted that characteristic and avoided eye contact with him. “Can’t you just ask me if I met her?”

When I slightly raised my gaze, I could see his chest rising and falling regularly. It seemed almost like the pattern was disturbed for a second, but I was sure I was mistaken.

“I find it offensive that you’re beating around the bush,” I finished.

In the book, the duchess loved her husband so much that she always avoided looking at him head-on because she felt as if her heart would explode just from the sight of his face. As for me, I avoided looking at him head-on because I felt as if my temper would explode just from the sight of his face. Ah, how very wise of me.

“Why did you meet her? Did anything happen?”

What was that supposed to mean? Was he asking if I’d pulled her hair or something? I laughed inwardly. Oh, my dear husband. Why on earth would I rip out her precious hair? She’s my so-very-precious savior.

“I heard the atmosphere was rather hostile.” His voice sounded icy. Apparently his servant had been quite faithful in his delivery of information. He seemed to be referring to the moment I’d whispered in Seira’s ear in front of the gallery.

“Of course not. We were simply having a conversation.”

“With an envelope of money?” For a moment, his voice grew low and sharp. His servant had told him that too? I pursued my lips and paused. No. He couldn’t have seen that. We were in the lounge inside the gallery, behind a partition.

Then it dawned on me. Ah. Seira just couldn’t resist tattling on me, huh? I lifted my head as I enthusiastically praised her inwardly. Things were progressing faster than I’d thought. If Seira had told him everything, there was no reason to keep my gaze averted from him anymore. “Yes. I gave it to her.”

Thinking more about what he’d said, I realized that Seira couldn’t possibly have told him the entire story. She’d probably left out the part that I was rooting for her. After all, people only tended to tell what was advantageous to them.

“I gave her that money and told her to stay away from you. Didn’t she tell you that?”

My husband narrowed his eyes. Since he didn’t answer, it seemed like Seira really hadn’t passed on my message of support. I celebrated in my mind. Bravo, Seira! That’s exactly how you drive a wedge between us. Good job!

“Is this why you hid your identity when you met her?”

“Yes. That’s right.”

My husband paused for a moment at my confident attitude. Then a brief moment later, his expression grew fierce. “You are a duchess.”

“Have I acted in any way unbefitting of my status?”

What? It’s not like you saw me. If you have proof, put up or shut up. That was what I’d indirectly said. To rebut me, he’d have to confess that he’d had his servants follow me, something his pride would never let him do.

Knowing this well, I smiled. “Darling, I just went on a ‘walk’ today.”

As his wife, I had a right to give money to the mistress and tell her to back off. In the eyes of the public, that was.

This man called me “my lady” and spoke smooth words in a deep, mellow voice, but he never gave me his heart. I didn’t find it regrettable at all. He seemed like he was about to say something, but remained silent. When he stared at me with his ruby-red eyes, even I, who didn’t care much about him, broke into a cold sweat. But he didn’t utter another word about my meeting today.

“I hope it was a pleasant walk, Your Grace.” Teaching me that one could intimidate even with the tenderest of words, then left the room.

After I saw the door close, I raised my hand nonchalantly and picked my ear. What a load of nonsense. Were his last words a threat? I put my hand on the sofa, only to feel an unfamiliar fabric, and turned to look. The texture was soft and smooth. It was obviously a man’s coat.

“Did he leave it behind?”

Seeing as how it was hanging off the sofa, my husband must have left it there. I tossed the coat aside without much thought and walked to my desk.

“Rosa!” I shouted as I sat at my desk. Rosa, who had been waiting outside, quickly entered the room and bowed in greeting. “Bring me some parchment and a quill pen. Oh, and the seal too.”

“Yes, my lady.” Rosa bowed and left the room. She returned quickly and set the parchment and pen in front of me.

After possessing the duchess’s body and experiencing all sorts of confusion, I hadn’t just remained idle. I’d gained a lot of knowledge while preparing for divorce—for example, by researching many previous divorce cases in the empire. Scrutinizing each and every case, I’d found a person who could be of help to me. They said that experience was the greatest of all teachers, after all.

I wrote neatly on the parchment for about an hour, rolled it up and sealed it, then handed it to the maid who was waiting for me. “Send this invitation as written.”