Honey, Why Can’t We Get a Divorce?

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?”