Honey, Why Can’t We Get a Divorce?

Everyone who heard the words closed their eyes. They thought Ophelia would slap Angela's cheeks. Ah, poor Angela—. Now, on a rainy day, she will be beaten to dust and will never be able to go out in social circles again—.

Each of the people who thought this expressed condolences to Angela. 

However, a really surprising answer came out of Ophelia's mouth.

"Even if it goes to the trash, wouldn't it be important that I give it to His Highness?" 

She was really surprisingly calm. Is it just calm? It was even a tone that would feel kind! 

So Angela's eyes shook. She bit her teeth. Why isn't she angry? She's supposed to curse and hit her! 

Angela thought Ophelia was desperately holding back her anger. So she decided to say something more upsetting to Ophelia. 

"His Highness loves Countess Fleur! The Duchess is just an obstacle to their love!"

"…."

Silence came.

Gulp. 

She can only hear someone swallowing dry saliva.

How will the Duchess come out? Everyone turned their heads toward Ophelia. But Ophelia said. 

"I know."

It was really calm.

Without the slightest change in expression, she shook her head—which made it even scarier. 

"But I keep my heart alone. Is this such a big deal?"

"That's—"

"I'll make a handkerchief with my heart in it and give it to His Highness. Whether he accepts it or not, it's up to His Highness. I don't think this will be a problem." 

Angela was even more embarrassed. 

She can't believe she's not angry despite having done so much! She wanted to pick another fight with her. But she couldn't do it.

In any case, Countess Cardel had invited her to come here. If she had gone on from here and shown any more disrespect, it would have weighed heavily on her family.

She had to step down knowing when to step down.

So Angela smiled hard and pulled her chin. 

"There can't be a problem. I'll cheer for you, Madam." 

"Yeah."

Ophelia answered meekly. 

Is this how the conversation ends? Is Ophelia really not getting angry? 

People looked at Ophelia with anxious eyes. As if to live up to the expectations of such people, Ophelia opened her mouth again. 

"But."

Ophelia looked at Angela with her characteristic cold expression. 

"You seem like a person who likes to move with the words."

"Y, yes?"

Angela stuttered in embarrassment. Ophelia continued to speak. 

"To speak openly about His Highness's feelings towards the Countess. You must know that His Highness hates it so much, right?"  

Angela took a big breath.

"I must tell His Highness about today. He should know that the Young Lady has the spirit of supporting His Highness's love." 

Angela's face turned white. 

No wonder, because Ophelia's words were true. 

Callian loves Fleur. 

However, Callian hates seeing their relationship in the public eye. This is because the Emperor has not yet recognized it. So Callian would always be very angry with those who mentioned the relationship between him and Fleur. 

In this context, Angela made a huge mistake. 

There are more than 10 people gathered here alone. 

Angela bit her lower lip hard. She lost perfectly. She decided that she should not answer any more here.

"I hope Madam will show generosity." 

So Angela bowed her head and pretended to focus on embroidery after leaving only this one word. Ophelia twisted her lips while looking at Angela. 

People were surprised to see Ophelia, who quickly organized the situation. If it was the original Ophelia, there would have been a physical fight by now. They're sure there will be a big mess. 

But it's different now. She didn't get angry at Angela's words. Instead, she calmly scolded her. It seems that she has really changed, and people whispered and shared their thoughts. 

"Good job, Madam," Jasmine whispered.

"I'll collect more information about Angela later. We can't just move on like this." 

"That's a good idea." 

Ophelia replied. 

"But don't you think she's going to destroy herself anyway?" 

Ophelia stared at Angela with her head down and said. 

"Why do you think so?" 

When Jasmine asked, Ophelia remembered the original. Angela's family, Marquis Richel. Marquis Richel, who holds the position of a diplomat.

But he was a spy. 

He was exposing the Empire's every move to other countries. Fleur, who later discovered it by chance, informed Callian, who was angry and punished the Marquis.

Thus, the Marquis disappears with the dew of the guillotine, and the Marquis of Richel perishes. And Angela—. 

‘It didn't even mention it.'

Ophelia stroked her chin, twisting her lips. She didn't want to use this because someone else's life was at stake. However, Angela came out like this, so she thought she should use it.

‘I'm going to look for evidence.'

There is another excuse to go to meet Callian soon. So Ophelia, who felt better, hummed and replied to Jasmine. 

"It's my feeling. My instinct is always right." 

Jasmine was wondering. However, Ophelia no longer answered. Instead, she lifted the needle. The purpose of today's meeting was to embroider. Ophelia sewed excitedly, but as Angela said, she really couldn't embroider.

So she returned home with a ruined handkerchief. 

*****

‘I'm a little tired today.'

I sat on the bed yawning loudly. Although it was still early for bed, it seemed that lying down would be enough for me to fall asleep. Because she was so tired.

I was tired because I did embroidery that didn't suit my aptitude, but the most tiring reason was because of the fight with Angela. Suddenly, a desire to hit her popped out and consumed a lot of mental strength to suppress it.

Is this desire originally a remnant of Ophelia, or is it because of my filthy personality—.

‘Whatever it is, it's okay since I didn't hit her.'

I decided to take it easy. There is nothing to benefit from paying more attention. 

‘By the way, the handkerchief is the problem.'

I picked up the handkerchief that I had put on the table. 

Well, even if I can give you a good look no matter how badly aesthetic it is, this is not it. Isn't it too messy? If I gave this to Callian, it would go straight to the trash can, as Angela said.

‘Well, but I still want him to accept it.'

Is there any way? I was troubled. 

It was then. 

"You weren't sleeping?"

Sylvester opened the door and came in. I tilted my head back and looked at him. 

"What's going on, at such an early hour?" 

"I finished my work a little early." 

Sylvester approached me with an answer. And he looked around with his eyes as if searching. Then he found a handkerchief in my hand.

"This—"

I stopped him before he could say anything more. 

"It's not trash." 

Sylvester raised his eyebrows. 

"I never say it's trash. Is it because you are getting pierced?" (I'm not sure about the last one;;) 

"—Yes."

I added words because I felt a little unfair. 

"I did my best in my own way. It was my best."

"I didn't say anything."

Sylvester smiled and took a look at the handkerchief. 

"But it has its own meaning. Oh, does this red color mean the sun?" 

"—It's a cat though."

"Then blue means a dog."

"That's a cloud."

"…."

Sylvester kept his mouth shut. There seems to be nothing more to say. The same goes for me, so I didn't talk more.

"Anyway, it's okay. It's worth looking at."

"Really?"

Sylvester's compliment made me feel a little better. So I looked at Sylvester with sparkling eyes. 

"That's a relief. I think it would be nice if His Highness would look at it like that." 

"—What?"

However, Sylvester's expression became strange. He glared at me, narrowing his forehead.

"Didn't you give it to me?"