This Villainess Wants a Divorce!

Chapter 10

The view of the pond from the gazebo was spectacular. A ton of manpower had gone into beautifying the banks of the pond—it looked like a scene straight out of a movie. I couldn’t help but think that I might not be able to enjoy sights like this after my divorce, since I would be leaving the palace. That would be one regrettable thing about my decision.

“Sister.”

“Yeah?”

Noah sounded melancholy. His face had looked solemn and concerned since yesterday, which was in contrast to his usual sunny demeanor. “Have you heard that they’re fighting hard on the southern front because of the savage tribes?” he asked.

“Of course I have.”

Small struggles against savage tribes seemed to be a natural occurrence in every world. This nation had warred with them for a long time. The problem was that this war was not exactly a “small struggle.”

In this world, the protagonist had to shine on the battlefield—a “small struggle” would not be enough. The savage tribes were so powerful that they could endanger the empire’s safety.

So, you might ask, why go against them? Well, to make the protagonist’s abilities stand out, of course. The southern region of the empire was already weak, and someone like the prince could make a name for himself by coming to the rescue.

One could compare these tribes to the Huns of my old world. Nations on Earth had tried to pacify the Huns with gifts, and in this world, the empire was also offering gifts to the tribes.

Imperial officials gave a superficial reason for this—they said the empire hoped to foster friendly relations with the tribes. However, everyone knew the truth. The empire simply wanted to maintain its pride. In reality, the gifts were given basically as a tribute.

From the empire’s perspective, it would be much better if gifts were enough to maintain peace. After all, they cost much less than a war. The problem was that the tribes tried to intimidate the empire by increasing the required tribute every year. They even used the word “tribute” in the official document they sent to the emperor.

This situation was practically enough to make the emperor grab the back of his neck and collapse. It made sense that the emperor would dote upon Caesar after he beat the tribes.

I had a feeling I knew why Noah was bringing up the tribes: Caesar was turning seventeen this year, and it was almost time for the empress to send him to war. In my old life, seventeen was around the time one exited high school. And yet, she wanted to send him not just to the rear base where it was relatively safe, but to the front lines. That was basically a death sentence.

“I heard from Mother that Brother is...” murmured Noah.

“He’ll be enlisted soon?” I asked.

“Oh, you knew?”

“I didn’t hear it directly... but I have eyes.”

As far as the empress was concerned, this solution eliminated the nuisance of a first prince while also appeasing public opinion in the south, where they said the emperor was neglecting them. It served to kill two birds with one stone, and an ordinary citizen would have no idea about the context.

“This is all my fault. I should have dissuaded her...” Noah seemed to think that if his brother died, it would be his fault for failing to dissuade his mother.

Erm, actually, your brother’s going to return a triumphant general...

I wasn’t that worried because I knew Caesar would return victorious. But Noah didn’t know this, so it was naturally a shock to hear that his brother would be going to war.

“Don’t worry,” I assured him. “Everything will be okay. Trust your brother.”

“But...!” He seemed on the brink of actually crying.

Ohhh, I’m telling you! You don’t have to worry. Maybe take all that time you spend worrying about Caesar’s life and worry about your mother’s life instead.

I felt like I should give him hope, so I spoke firmly. “Caesar will return a hero. Trust me.”

“I wonder about how optimistic you always are, Sister.”

That was sarcasm, wasn’t it? I lightly pinched Noah in the side.

* * *

Caesar and I became quite close ever since the day we’d left the palace grounds together. Caesar, Noah, and I were the only ones our age with our status in the palace. It would have been strange to not become friends.

It had nothing to do with me and Caesar being married. In fact, there was another heroine destined to fall in love with him.

Hmm... He was like a childhood friend in the neighborhood whom I had known for ten years. I never felt bashful around him, even when we shared a bed—we’d been doing it once a month for five years now.

I thought we were quite close now, yet Caesar hadn’t mentioned anything about leaving for war. There had been multiple opportunities for him to tell me, but he hadn’t said a word.

But why? Does he not know somehow? When I saw the subtle shadow over his face, I realized that he understood that he would be leaving. Also, if Noah knew, Caesar had to know too.

I decided to bring it up first. It was our bed-sharing night, and I sat next to him in bed. “I heard you’re going to war.”

“What?”

I leaned back against a cushion and crossed my arms. “I’ve known for a long, long time. But how come you never told me? I’m your wife. Shouldn’t I hear that my husband’s going to war from his own lips?”

My face burned when I mentioned wife and husband. Still, I pressed on stubbornly. Caesar was perched on the bed, and he sounded deflated.

“So... you knew.”

“Yes, I did. I was waiting for you to tell me.”

“I wasn’t hiding it on purpose. I just... didn’t think there was any reason to make you worry so early. It’s all decided anyway.”

Hello?! I’m not worried, okay! Even if I had the time to worry about the invincible protagonist of a mainstream fantasy novel, I wouldn’t—it would be much more worthwhile to worry about the people starving on the street. Why should I worry about someone who would achieve victory after victory once he joined his mercenary comrades?

I placed my hand lightly over his fist. He was squeezing so tightly that his knuckles were white. I pitied him—maybe it was because I had once read about him as a protagonist, or perhaps it was because I’d been living alongside him for five years.

Even though I knew he would be the last victor standing, I couldn’t help but feel bad for him. As a protagonist, he was obliged to meet all sorts of adversities. However, it was still cruel to send him to war at the mere age of seventeen.

“I’m not worried about you.”

“Good. Don’t worry.”

“I know you’ll be a hero. I’ll hand-sew a purple cloak for you while you’re away.”

Purple was the emperor’s color. Only the emperor or a triumphant general could wear a purple cloak. The meaning of my words was unmistakable, and he burst into bewildered laughter.

“I know it’s you saying it, but that does make me feel better.”

“I mean it!”

Everything would proceed as written in the novel because I had not meddled in any way. For example, there was my conversation with Gracie Lancaster on the day of my debutante. I’d been amazed when her lines had been word-for-word the same as in the novel.

Ugh, I’m suddenly in a bad mood thinking about her.

I shook my head to chase away the vision of Gracie and tried to smile brightly. Anyway, my point was that Caesar would achieve victory, just like he had in the novel.

“If you’re worried, think of it like a danger that has befallen a story protagonist.”

Caesar burst into laughter, then said, “That was really funny just now.”

Uh-huh. Here I am doing my best to comfort you, and you just... I wished I could punch him, but he was sufficiently anxious and depressed already. He didn’t know the future like I did, so I felt like I shouldn’t get angry.

Instead of punching him, I wrapped my arm around his shoulders. Oh, you poor thing. When I was seventeen, my main concern was how I might skip my evening classes. He had to go to war.

He was to be pitied, even if he was the protagonist of a fantasy novel. His victory wouldn’t even be easy to come by—he would triumph only after plenty of struggles.

I sensed his shoulders tense under my arm, so I patted them as if I were petting a cat’s bottom. “Everything will turn out okay. Don’t worry.”

His tensed shoulders relaxed under my hand. My arm’s starting to hurt... I wished I could comfort him until he was relaxed.

After I thought I had done enough, I leaned back. Suddenly, he ran into the study that was connected to the bedroom. He didn’t look back.

“Hey, where are you going?” I asked. I tried to go after him, but the study door slammed shut, and I heard it lock. I pounded on the door in vain. What’s with him all of a sudden?

“Did I say something wrong?” I asked.

“You go to bed first,” he said. “I’ll be there later.”

He didn’t sound angry. I recalled how red Caesar’s ears had been as he’d sprinted into the study.

Oh. Maybe...

“Are you crying?” I asked.

“No!”

They say passionate denials are the same thing as confirmation. I wasn’t surprised that a seventeen-year-old boy was embarrassed to cry in front of someone else. He was at a sensitive age. Still, how stressed must he be if my measly comfort was enough to bring tears to his eyes.

I nodded in understanding. He’s still a child after all, and he’s a prince. Think of how proud he must be.

The polite response in a situation like this was to play dumb. I took one step away from the door and shouted, “I’m going to go to bed first then!”

I waited a long time, but there was no response. Oh well. I returned to bed and crawled under the blanket. It’s more comfortable sleeping alone anyway.

Not long after I lay my head on the pillow, I fell deeply asleep.

The next day, when I woke up, Caesar had already left his palace. Beside me was only an imprint that implied someone had lain beside me.