Chapter 1

My wife has changed.

Johann Leopold came to this conclusion as he stared at the woman who stood rigidly with her buttons fastened all the way up to her neck, her emotionless gaze lowered.

His wife, Olivia Blanchett, had always been a woman who craved love.

She acted as if she could only live by loving something, and the problem, unfortunately, was that the object of her affection was Johann Leopold, the busiest man in the world.

Give and take, a fair trade. To him, marriage was nothing more, nothing less. But his wife was different.

She didn't know how to control her emotions with grace, so her actions, with their clear intentions, were perfect for provoking him.

Her extravagance was not a big deal. As long as she didn't bother him, it was actually a good thing that she stayed quietly in the house and spent money.

It didn't matter if she played around with other men or caused a scene in society to get Yohan's attention.

Then one day, when all methods failed, his wife slit her wrists without hesitation. She was a woman who would do anything to bring Yohan before her.

That woman.

"What did you just say?"

Yohan asked again, even though he had clearly heard her.

"Divorce. Let's get a divorce."

It was just a neat tone, devoid of any emotion.

The Duchess has changed.

Rumors spread among the servants of Greathill. Some saw the Duchess's change as a new way to get attention, wondering how long the quietness would last.

Anne was one of them. But.

"Anne, I'm divorced."

The Duchess's face, smiling brightly, was clear of any emotion or regret.

Greathill was in an uproar over the Duke and Duchess's divorce, but she was as calm as if she were from another world.

The divorce proceedings progressed faster than expected. As everyone predicted, the Duke did not hold onto his wife. He also gave her more alimony than expected, as well as a villa in Lemonde, a resort town.

"Anne. Will you come with me? I would be grateful if you would."

Anne realized at the radiant smile that seemed to be bathed in the dazzling sunlight pouring through the branches laden with spring flowers.

The disgrace of the Blanchett, the proof of infidelity, the dirty bastard.

Her lady, who had always been desperately thirsty for affection, with her thorns raised, had changed.

Anne replied happily.

"Please, take me with you, Lady."

Anne, sitting side by side on the bed, packing her luggage, quietly took her scarred hand and said.

She had never been a kind lady, but Anne had never disliked her. The lady's life was so difficult that even a humble maid felt pity.

The Duchess packed a simple travel bag and got into the carriage.

"That's too much. It's the last time, after all."

Anne said in a bitter voice, looking up at the largest window on the second floor.

"He's a busy man. That man."

The lady's tone, ending her three years of marriage, was very calm. Where had the love gone, the love that had been so blindly clung to, twisted and crumbling, as if it would shatter into pieces at any moment?

Anne stared silently at her lady, who was looking out the window.

Since that day when the early spring rain fell, she had often stared blankly at a place that seemed out of reach. The look resembled the eyes of the young lady who had been locked in the room of repentance for disciplinary reasons, longing for freedom.

"Get someone to follow her."

"Understood."

Yohan said coldly, looking down at the carriage that had just passed through the main gate and was running down the driveway lined with spruce trees on both sides.

Not long ago, he had received a message that his wife had jumped into the lake. It was always like that, so Yohan was not particularly shaken. He finished his work and returned to the mansion three days later.

His wife was lying in bed with a face as pale as white. It was a sight he had seen often lately, so he didn't feel anything special. He was just annoyed that his wife was holding him back in this way.

Four days passed. It was a day when a drizzling spring rain fell, as if spring, which had been teasing him, was about to arrive. As Yohan's patience, who had been enduring the inconvenience of handling urgent tasks in the mansion's office, was slowly reaching its limit, his wife opened her eyes.

'Please divorce me.'

What was her intention this time?

Even after the carriage disappeared into a dot, Yohan could not easily leave the window.

Lemonde, a nine-hour train ride from the capital, was a beautiful resort town. The villa, called White Gable, with its white roofs rising sharply on the coast overlooking the sea, was the pride and joy of the butler, Hermann.

The fact that the owner of this place had changed from Duke Johann Leopold to the former Duchess was by no means a welcome thing for Hermann.

The Duchess belonged to a class that was difficult for even experienced butlers to serve. Moreover, she was coming down after a divorce, so Hermann and the servants of White Gable were trembling, wondering how they would cope with her tyranny. But.

"Call a real estate agent."

"Yes. ... What? What did you just say...?"

The bewildered butler blinked his eyes and asked again.

"I'm going to sell this villa. Please find someone who can give me the best price."

After taking a tour of the villa, the Duchess said she needed to rest and headed to the bedroom on the second floor. The Duchess turned around as she was about to climb the red mahogany stairs in the center.

"Don't worry, I'll sign a contract on the condition that the employment is transferred. Please tell everyone that."

Perhaps it was because she was dyed in the slanting sunset that poured in from the large window on the side of the stairs, but the Duchess's smile seemed as merciful as a sacred painting.

The woman who had been wailing like a shrew in Hermann's memory was no longer there.

The butler stared blankly at the Duchess's back before regaining his senses. He ran to the telegraph office in the city and sent an urgent telegram to Greathill.

"She put the villa up for sale?"

"Yes. That's right."

His wife, or rather, his ex-wife, whose thoughts were always so obvious, was beginning to deviate from Yohan's expectations.

He thought she would live luxuriously with men in that scenic place. What was she up to?

"What should we do?"

"Buy it."

The aide bowed and quickly left the office.

Yohan slammed the document he was reviewing shut.

Was she planning to get a mansion in the capital with the money from selling the villa?

The reason he gave her the Lemonde villa was simple. He wanted her to be as far away from the capital as possible, but in a place with enough entertainment to keep her from getting bored. He calculated that Lemonde, a city of pleasure and a resort for nobles, was suitable.

But was she determined to come to his side and torment him?

No. That couldn't happen. Olivia.

Yohan opened the lid of the cigar box, which was polished with polish. Yohan's eyes narrowed as he loosely held the cut-off cigar to his lips and lit a match.

The villa was sold to a good buyer at a slightly higher price than the market price. The generous buyer agreed to hire the servants under the same conditions, and the lady was happy that she was lucky.

Anne took a carriage to the city with the lady. No matter what she did or where she went, Anne didn't ask. She just quietly stayed by her side.

She had never seen her so full of life, so she was uneasy and happy about the change.

The lady stopped the carriage in front of the bank. She carefully consulted with three banks and finally started trading with International Bank.

"Look at this, Anne. It's a certificate of deposit."

The lady fluttered a check with an astronomical amount written on it and smiled like a child.

"I have to pack my bags again."

As soon as she returned to White Gable, the lady handed Anne a brown envelope.

"What is this?"

"Thank you for everything. Please accept it."

"Lady!"

"I'm going a little further this time, Anne."

As if she were leaving and never returning, the lady's blue eyes were just transparently sparkling without a shred of regret.

The memory of that day when the midsummer monsoon poured down unfolded before her eyes.

A middle-aged man holding a black umbrella and a girl walking across the red rose garden into the Blanchett Estate. The man, who was kicked out without even setting foot inside, left in a fit of anger, and the emaciated girl stood blankly in the rain and collapsed.

Anne, who was ten years old, ran out while helping her mother clean the floor, hugged the girl, and struggled to bring her into the mansion.

That day, the girl was locked in a dark attic, and Anne was whipped by the mistress for the first time and had to lie down for two days. Even with a fever and panting, Anne was worried that the little girl might be dead.

"Please, ... please take me with you, Lady."

Blanchett's noble rose, the illegitimate child left by Elena Blanchett. My poor lady.

"I won't be able to see my mother often."

"She told me to take care of you."

She remembered the lady who had been pulled out of the lake, drooping like a waterlogged bird. Anne was afraid that she would disappear like a mirage.

"So let's go together. Anywhere. Let's spend that money there. Yes, Lady!"

Anne grabbed the lady's slender wrist and didn't let go. She felt a sincere warmth from that small hand. Olivia couldn't bring herself to shake it off.

The next day, unlike when they came from Greathill, the two of them left the villa in a carriage in simple travel clothes.

"They left White Gable."

"Destination?"

"They boarded a passenger ship bound for the Kingdom of Brit."

"Brit."

Ha, Yohan chuckled briefly.

Not the capital, but Brit...

If this was a new strategy to get his attention, his wife, or rather, his ex-wife, was making some progress.

Why Brit, of all places, with no ties whatsoever...

Yohan frowned irritably at the annoyance that was different from when she was causing trouble under the same roof.

"What should we do?"

"Keep an eye on her."

"Understood."

As the aide stepped back, Yohan, who had been concentrating on the documents again, got up from his seat and approached the window.

The blue sky was particularly clear. Like Olivia Blanchett's bright blue eyes.

His wife always had dull and dark eyes, soaked in medicine and alcohol. It was only recently that he realized that her eyes were blue.

Why did she have to make those eyes at the end?

As Yohan looked up at the clear sky and recalled Olivia's eyes, Olivia was looking at the same sky on the deck bound for Brit.

She finally smiled brightly.

Olivia, or rather, Han Ji-an, was now running away. Forever from her husband's hands.