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“Don’t do that again.”
Deatrice took off her necklace and responded without looking at him. “Everything went fine, didn’t it?”
“You didn’t need to mediate in the situation.”
“Why, did I hurt your pride by meddling?” She uttered as she looked back at him who now wore a thin shirt.
Lucius looked down at her with one eyebrow raised, his red eyes dulling a bit with frustration. He said sharply. “You know I don’t mean it like that. Your life and reputation have nothing to do with me anyway. But for the meantime, you are still known to the public as my wife.”
Deatrice realized what he was overreacting to. He didn’t like that she acted as if she cared about him, worried for him, or made sacrifices for him.
For absurd and selfish reasons.
He had basically thrown her away, and the one whom he had ‘thrown away’ was taking care of him. His guilt might be eating him up.  Another was because he was scared of the fact that his resolve would be shaken by the same woman he had decisively abandoned.
So, what was to be done in that situation? Deatrice already saw pitting his life against the prince. Should she simply say, ‘Oh, this is the gentlemen’s business’ and simply go on her merry way?
He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.
Deatrice lips felt dry, so she wetted them with her tongue and her pearly white teeth bit down on the bottom. Lucius’ gaze shifted towards her small movements, scanning her with darkened eyes.
He stared deeply at her.
With his earnest gaze, she began to feel conscious of her own appearance.
Is that my fault?
She was conscious of the atmosphere between them as it thickened the air around them. Lucius’ desire had never been explicitly stated as Prince Edin’s. Therefore, although she may have felt unpleasant, it felt unpleasant in a different kind of way.
His desire was uncomfortable, like a heavy dress falling off of her shoulders and wrapping around her ankles. But at the same time, it gave her a soft feeling of wanting something.
Deatrice wondered what he would look like with disheveled hair, gasping for breath, and cheeks flushed in excitement…
“Deatrice.”
His voice broke the silence. Deatrice expected him to say something important. However, he seemed to be unable to speak as his eyes gleamed with melancholy. Like he was already unable to bear something inside of him any longer.
Deatrice even had a funny thought that perhaps even that handsome Lucius might kneel before her like Prince Edin, who had eagerly clasped his hands and rubbed his forehead against her stomach. Confessing things like he had done something wrong and that he was sorry.
Well, she wished he would, but Deatrice no longer wanted his affection. She wanted his misery.
Lucius licked his lips as if to say something yet again. But then he eventually left the room without as much as a word.
It was only after he had left that Deatrice sat down on the bed.
Lucius didn’t return for the rest of the night.
Could he be summoned by the emperor again?
Deatrice thought. She had woken up late, pretending to be unaware of Lucius’s absence, and was currently resting her arms in front of the dressing table. When she heard a knock on the door, she got up thinking it might be Lucius.
When she opened it, it was Rosalynn who greeted her and entered. Deatrice suddenly remembered she had allowed Rosalynn to go out yesterday.
“You have returned.”
Beckoning her to sit down, Rosalynn sat down with a dark expression on her face.
“You have just returned from your home. Why the long face?”
It was very rare for Rosalynn to have such an expression. When she thought back to when she had granted the maid temporary leave, she looked rather uncomfortable as well. Deatrice thought something must have happened to her family.
“You know you can just extend your stay there and come back later? Did your brother have another accident?”
But Rosalynn was silent and shook her head, but a traitorous tear fell on her cheek. She hurriedly wiped her face, but its traces against the bright sunlight were very clear.
Deatrice frowned, “Rosalynn Hower, tell me this instance. Otherwise, I’ll send you back to the duke’s mansion.”
“Miss.”
As if repeated threats seemed to have no effect, Rosalynn wasn’t as surprised as she was when she first heard it.
Not realizing she had incorrectly addressed her mistress, Rosalynn wiped away the tears that flowed in succession. “I have gone against my lady’s will. I do not deserve your forgiveness, but I won’t give excuses for my wrongdoings either because I only did it out of my own judgment.”
Then she held out a white envelope.
Deatrice frowned and opened the envelope to check the contents.
Her eyes, which had been skimming the contents of the letter, stopped immediately and her face turned white. Deatrice stood up abruptly and paced around her room. Then she stopped and shouted at Rosalynn.
“Rosalynn Hower, are you out of your mind! How dare you?! To even involve my father in this—” she drew in a sharp breath.
“It’s not that I don’t respect your decision, but I know how tired you are with your marriage that you’re already thinking about giving up on everything.”
Rosalynn quickly knelt down and her forehead touched the floor as she bore her lady’s wrath.