Chapter 28

He had the demeanor of a businessman, yet upheld the decorum of nobility—a perfectionist.

It felt unfamiliar. But Asla found it intriguing and oddly amusing to see sides of Enoch she hadn’t known before.

‘What in the world happened between them?’

She tried to guess what might have occurred between Enoch and Duke Jemia, but it was impossible to tell.

Duke Jemia was a powerful noble with vast lands in the western part of the Empire—an aristocrat with significant influence.  

What could have possibly happened between a man like that and Enoch?

Enoch muttered a few more irritated remarks, then turned to look at Asla. She shrugged lightly and nodded.

“Go on. I won’t be going anywhere.”

Her calm tone made Enoch pinch the bridge of his nose.

“I never said you had to stay locked in. I’m not trying to imprison you. Enjoy yourself. Spend and indulge as Duchess Ventus should.”

“That’s hard to believe.”

“Just spend money like water. Buy everything.”

Robert interjected quickly, answering for him, and Enoch smiled, pleased.

“Well said.”

As Enoch turned to leave, Asla called out to Robert, who was about to follow.

“Vice President Robert Hesse. Is it really necessary for you to accompany him to receive Duke Jemia?”

“Pardon?”

“Why Robert?”

Enoch turned back slowly, suspicion in his eyes. Asla replied evenly,

“Spending money like water and buying everything—I know the Vice President said it casually, but I’ve only just arrived in the capital. I’m still the Princess who’s lived hidden away in the Holy Kingdom. What if people look down on me as some backwater noble? Wouldn’t it be better if someone of Robert Hesse’s standing accompanied me?”

Asla’s reasoning was clear and logical, and both Enoch and Robert found themselves nodding, slightly caught off guard.

Leaving Robert behind, Enoch walked out of the room with a warning.

“If you spout nonsense to my wife again, I’ll show you what happens at bonus time.”

“If you keep doubting me without reason, I’ll start prepping my resignation.”

Robert retorted with an edge in his voice, but Enoch just scoffed and disappeared.

Left alone in the room with Asla, Robert maintained a respectful posture, though he looked a little awkward.

Beautiful features, soft pink hair, a serene yet mysterious aura—  

Robert had once seen Asla briefly when she was fifteen, in the Holy Kingdom.

Now, she has grown into someone far more poised and striking.  

He couldn’t help but feel genuine admiration.

Then, Asla signaled him over with a glance.

Robert was surprised by how bold her gesture was—asking him to join her for shopping—but he also felt it was only natural. As he stepped closer, he said, “Rosshill Street is lined with the finest boutiques in the capital. A fifth of them are owned under the Ventus Company name, so I’ll alert them in advance. If Duchess Ventus visits, they’ll greet you with open arms. You needn’t worry about being looked down on.”

Asla narrowed her eyes briefly, then opened them.

Rosshill Street—one of the most expensive and exclusive commercial areas in the capital.

She had heard of it briefly while staying at the High Priest’s Hall.  

‘So Enoch even owns buildings there…?’

“If you’re interested in tableware, I’d recommend Alreer Street just across the way. The Ventus Company also runs a few shops there—it may be worth stopping by first.”

“Thank you.”

Asla gave a small nod mid-sentence, and Robert smiled in response.

“I also heard the Duke instructed us to look for an empty mansion in the capital. There’ll be a great deal to furnish inside, so it may help to learn your preferences in advance.”

“Vice President, do you not know I submitted a divorce petition to the High Priest’s Hall?”

Asla cut in, asking bluntly. Robert let out a small breath.

“I do know. But…please give him a chance. The President—no, Duke Ventus had his reasons.”

“His reasons, huh.”

Asla recalled the answer she never got to hear from Enoch earlier.

‘He said… he’d been very sick.’ 

She tilted her head briefly, then looked up again and asked, “Seven years ago, my husband anonymously donated ten million luans to the Holy Kingdom. Do you remember accompanying him at that time, Vice President Robert Hesse?”

“…Pardon?”

Robert stiffened in surprise at Asla’s sudden question.

“Did the president tell you?”

“No.”

Asla hesitated for a moment, then looked him straight in the eye.

“You’re the one I trust most.”

“…I see.”

Robert had no idea what she was talking about—but he couldn’t bring himself to doubt her.

Enoch Ventus, that stubborn man, would never voluntarily reveal that to her now.

That donation had been known only to Enoch and Robert, and Robert had never spoken of it to anyone.

Asla’s gaze was so clear, so sincere, that he couldn’t question her further. Instead, he cautiously asked, “May I ask why you’re bringing that up now?”

“I know Enoch isn’t a particularly devout man. So I thought about it a lot. Why would someone like him make such a large donation to the Holy Kingdom?”

“…”

“Was it because of me?”

Asla let out a self-deprecating laugh. It was faint, yet so cold that Robert felt a chill.

He swallowed hard and answered firmly,

“Of course it was because of you. Isn’t it obvious?”

“Obviously not. From our wedding day until now, he’s completely neglected me. I had no choice but to assume he’d abandoned me.”

“Ah… That’s…”

“But I can tell now. Something must’ve gone wrong. There must’ve been misunderstandings. At the very least, I understand that he doesn’t outright hate me.”

Asla added that she was satisfied just knowing that much, but to Robert, it felt like he had just eaten three slices of dry rye bread with no water.

‘Just not hating her?’

Robert was frustrated—both as Enoch’s Vice President and as his longtime friend.

When the divorce petition was rejected, Enoch had stormed back to the Ventus estate with fire in his eyes… and yet, he didn’t even confess his feelings?

‘Then again… he’s the kind of man who doesn’t even recognize what he feels.’

As Robert clucked his tongue in exasperation, Asla silently stood and walked over to him without making a sound, stopping a respectful distance away.

“Secretary Talet is practically his right hand, so it’s hard to ask him. I’ll ask you instead.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“He told me he was sick. Does that justify why he couldn’t visit the estate for nearly two years?”

Robert hesitated.

Was it right to get involved between this frustrating couple?

Or should he protect the personal secrets of his superior?

But thinking of Enoch, who had suffered not just two but seven years of emotional turmoil, Robert made a decision.

He needed to give some kind of answer.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Evening had fallen, but Asla still hadn’t seen Enoch.

He had even sent someone to inform her that his meeting with Duke Jemia was running long.

So Asla spent time wandering through various parts of the hotel with May.  

Though she had considered exploring the capital as Robert had suggested, simply touring the hotel’s interior and exterior took quite a bit of time.

Besides, her thoughts were too tangled. She couldn’t bring herself to step outside just yet.

She had dinner alone at the hotel restaurant on the first floor, where the head chef had prepared a special meal with great care just for Duchess Ventus.

After the meal, Asla asked the staff not to mind her and took a seat near the glass windows overlooking the garden, falling into silent thought.

It was a summer evening, the last traces of sunlight still lingering in the air.

‘I never really understood Enoch.’

The moment she reached that conclusion, a wave of melancholy crashed over her.

According to Robert, Enoch had undergone psychiatric treatment for two years after their marriage.

It was shocking.

Enoch—who always seemed perfectly fine, healthy, flawless—had seen a psychiatrist?

Asla let out a groan, burying her face in her hands.

“My lady… Duke Enoch Ventus truly loved his family. I always thought I’d never see such a warm and harmonious noble household again. He was pure and sweet as a child—although, now he’s become rather twisted. But then… his parents died, and so did his older brother, the former duke. On the surface, he didn’t seem all that sorrowful, so we assumed he was fine. But the moment the late Duke Aren Ventus passed away, he buried himself in work—obsessively, to an unhealthy degree. He couldn’t sleep or eat. He once said he only felt alive when he was focused on making money. Then… you, Lady Asla Ventus, entered his life as a new family member. That made him uneasy.”

Even when she replayed Robert’s words, it was still hard to comprehend.

Robert had added more.

After marrying Asla, Enoch became terrified of losing another loved one. His health declined so severely that he became physically ill.

Robert had held back from saying more, telling her it would be better to hear the rest directly from Enoch.

“He was forced into treatment. It took him two years just to begin recovering. Then your divorce petition arrived—and he was clearly devastated. Please, if you could find it in yourself to show a little mercy…”

Robert still had no idea of the abuse Asla had endured at the Ventus estate—especially from Margo.

But Asla didn’t have time to feel disappointed in him.

She had never imagined Enoch to be such a delicate person.

Weren’t high-ranking nobles usually indifferent to their families?

Duty came first.

At least that’s how it had been for her, as a Princess and heir to the Holy Kingdom.  

Because of Lisette—her nurse—her ties to her parents had been severed early, so she had never even considered things like familial affection.

“So cold.”

Asla remembered Gloria’s resentful voice—the one that had spoken to her when she was in Enoch’s body.

She hated herself.

It was hard to accept that Enoch had pain, too, that he had vulnerabilities.

She had fallen in love with an ideal—an image of him she had created in her mind.

She had never once tried to see what was truly inside.

Of course he had burdens. Of course he had his own struggles.

To say she loved him now felt absurd.

No. I didn’t love him. I didn’t even deserve to.

Her heart felt empty and dull. Asla slowly lifted her face from her hands.

‘What do I do now?’

Should I try to convince him that I’m not dangerous—that I won’t suddenly die like the rest of his family?

At that moment, two faces flashed into her mind with a chill—Lisette, and Pope Brittas.

‘The two of them joined hands.’

Why?

Asla bit down on her lip, a cold shiver running down her spine.