Chapter 3

When their eyes met, Asla was swept up in a storm of mixed emotions.

 

She was glad to see Enoch—but at the same time, she detested it. 

 

She didn’t want him to see her like this, humiliated and degraded. 

 

And yet, some part of her did want him to know. 

 

To know what she was going through. 

 

To see it.

 

But… if he did?

 

Asla grabbed the tail end of her racing thoughts and forced them to a halt.

 

‘And then what?’

 

Even if Enoch knew Margo was tormenting her—would he really take her side? 

 

Asla lowered her head. 

 

Margo Ventus was the widow of Enoch’s late brother, the very one he’d respected and relied on since childhood. 

 

She was the pitiable sister-in-law he mourned and cherished. 

 

Margo, who’d been engaged to Aren Ventus since they were young, had frequented the Ventus estate and grown quite close to Enoch over the years.

 

‘They say Margo even played a mother’s role to Enoch, who lost his own.’

 

Asla clenched her fists, convinced she had no place between the two of them. 

 

She probably didn’t even hold the worth of a grain of sand in his eyes.

 

Just as she felt herself sink into despair like a drop off a cliff, Margo rose to her feet first and greeted Enoch with a sweet smile.

 

“Good morning, Your Grace. What brings you here so early?”

 

Her melodious voice might have sounded pleasant to others, but to Asla, it was like a piercing shriek that made her want to claw her ears out. 

 

I hate it, I hate it, I hate it.

 

She wanted to clamp both hands over her ears and shut it all out—but she couldn’t. 

 

She couldn’t bear to behave so rudely, not with the royal etiquette she’d been raised with for the past twenty-two years as a Princess of the Holy Kingdom.

 

Enoch gave Margo a slight nod in return, then looked to Asla. 

 

His wife didn’t greet him. She kept her eyes locked on the dishes piled on the trolley, trembling visibly.

 

Enoch turned back to Margo and spoke.

 

“This is my wife’s chamber. I’m free to visit whenever I please. I find it strange that you would question why I’m here.”

 

“But Your Grace,” Margo tittered behind her hand, “you haven’t exactly been seeking Asla out, have you?”

 

The laughter was unmistakably mocking. 

 

Asla felt as if the blood was draining from her body—she could collapse at any moment. 

 

If only Margo would refrain from acting like this in front of Enoch, at least. 

 

She mustered every ounce of strength she had just to stay upright. 

 

If she could, she would have fled this place. From Margo.  From the maids sneering at her. 

 

And from him—Enoch.

 

“You know how busy I am in the capital. Even visiting my own domain once a year is difficult.”

 

“Oh, Your Grace, don’t be so formal. You used to just call me Margo, remember?”

 

With a bright smile and a deflection, she tried to steer the conversation—but to Asla’s surprise, Enoch actually frowned. 

 

He looked annoyed. 

 

Truly irritated by Margo’s presence.

 

Asla stared in disbelief. 

 

Enoch, acting like Margo was a bother?

 

Margo too, seemed caught off guard and stepped quickly toward him.

 

“But Duke—”

 

As she closed the distance, Enoch subtly turned his body—toward Asla. 

 

He was clearly avoiding Margo, and Asla was just as confused as Margo was.

 

What was going on? 

 

Wasn’t he always indulgent toward Margo?

 

Asla could feel the world she’d built over the last two years—one shaped entirely by what Margo had told her—begin to crack.

 

Standing beside the bewildered Asla, Enoch finally addressed her.

 

“We’ve a long way to go, so we should head out. I plan to have breakfast somewhere nearby. Would that be all right?”

 

“…Of course.”

 

Asla swallowed hard and answered quickly. 

 

Anything to avoid the horrific meal Margo had prepared. 

 

Even if dining with Enoch was awkward, it was still better than staying here.

 

“Let’s go, then.”

 

“Yes.”

 

With her reply, Enoch gave a short nod and strode to the door with long, purposeful steps.

 

But Margo called after him, her voice trembling.

 

“Where are you going?”

 

“To the capital.”

 

“The capital…? With Asla?”

 

Margo pointed at Asla with a crooked, incredulous expression. 

 

Asla found it a little amusing that Margo had no clue why she was headed to the capital.

 

‘Does she think Enoch and I are going on a date or something? As if.’

 

Seeing Margo, who always maintained a composed demeanor, now looking anxious gave Asla a sense of satisfaction. 

 

So, she kept her mouth shut. 

 

She had no desire to tell Margo that she was going to the temple to get divorced. 

 

Someday, Margo would surely mock her for it, but just for now, Asla wanted her to stew in her own worries and suffer a little. 

 

After all, Margo was Enoch’s sister-in-law but still loved him. 

 

Knowing Margo’s feelings only made Asla hate and fear her even more.

 

“If you have more things to pack, I’ll wait.”

 

“There’s nothing.”

 

Asla, carrying her light travel bag herself, quickly followed Enoch, deliberately ignoring the terrifying glare Margo was giving her. 

 

She wanted to get out of the Ventus mansion as fast as possible.

 

“Madam, let me carry that.”

 

Talet had caught up at some point and took the bag from her hands. Asla gave him a slight smile.

 

“Thank you.”

 

It had been so long since anyone had shown her kindness that she felt genuinely happy.

 

“It’s nothing.”

 

But then, sensing something in Talet’s voice and demeanor, Asla felt her heart drop.

 

‘Is he pitying me?’

 

Had he realized she’d been mistreated? 

 

Before she could dwell on it further, they reached the carriage waiting at the front gate. Talet helped her board. 

 

Asla took her seat across from Enoch, who was staring at her intently. She quickly buried her thoughts and composed her expression as usual.

 

“We’re departing now.”

 

With the coachman’s call, the carriage began to move. 

 

An uncomfortable silence settled inside. 

 

The handsome duke seated on the luxurious wine-colored leather seat, and his delicate, beautiful duchess—visually, they were a perfect match, but the atmosphere was ice cold. 

 

Asla felt suffocated and stole a glance at Enoch.

 

He was staring intently at his own fingertips, deep in thought. 

 

The carriage rolled on for a while. 

 

Once the Ventus mansion had become a mere dot in the distance, Asla turned her attention from Enoch to the scenery outside.

 

“Wow…”

 

The words slipped from her lips before she could stop them. 

 

She didn’t even realize Enoch’s gaze had shifted to her, too captivated by the view outside.

 

‘So this is how beautiful the Ventus estate is in summer.’

 

A mirror-like blue lake, lush green trees, and sheep grazing leisurely in the meadows—it was all so peaceful and beautiful. 

 

For the first time in a long while, there was a spark of life in Asla’s eyes. 

 

She even found herself humorously regretting not having knelt before Margo in obedience, just to be allowed to enjoy such a sight.

 

“I’ve been thinking about the reason you want a divorce.”

 

Enoch’s deep voice suddenly broke the silence inside the carriage. 

 

Asla, who had been smiling inwardly at how the clouds looked like rabbits in the blue sky, felt slightly resentful that he ruined her happy moment. 

 

Turning to look at him, she found Enoch resting his chin on his clasped hands, his expression serious. That made her think life was quite absurd.

 

‘Now that I’ve asked for a divorce, he’s finally interested in me?’

 

She nodded at Enoch, silently urging him to speak. 

 

After a moment’s hesitation, he finally opened his mouth.

 

“Is it because of my sister-in-law? Talet found out a few things yesterday. I thought she might dislike you—she’s a jealous woman—but… I didn’t expect her to go so far as to torment you.”

 

“Ah, yes.”

 

Asla responded with a hollow murmur to Enoch’s words. 

 

The sympathy she had sensed from Talet hadn’t been a misunderstanding, after all. 

 

She found it laughable that Enoch dismissed Margo as merely a “jealous woman.” 

 

He said he’d discovered she was tormenting her—but just how much did he really know?

 

If he was saying this without fully understanding the situation…  That in itself was hurtful. 

 

But if he knew everything and still chose to speak this way, then Enoch was… a truly terrible man. 

 

So much so that when they divorced, she’d want to end things with a slap across his face. 

 

While wondering which cheek she should slap, Asla quietly studied him. 

 

Enoch frowned.

 

“Besides that reason… if there’s another. Like you’ve found a lover you want to live with.”

 

‘What…? A lover?’

 

Asla was so taken aback that she couldn’t even bring herself to deny it. 

 

Interpreting her silence as confirmation, Enoch’s thick eyebrows twitched, and he let out a deep sigh. 

 

After taking a moment to collect himself, he looked her straight in the eye and spoke quickly.

 

“You’re beautiful. I’m sure many men have made advances. But even if you leave me and go live with one of them, you won’t be happy.”

 

“Why not?”

 

Asla was stunned by his absurd assumption and confidence, and she couldn’t help but ask. 

 

She was ready to retort sharply, but paused when she saw the flicker of fire in Enoch’s dark eyes. 

 

Was she imagining it?

 

‘Why did he seem so angry? Shouldn’t I be the one furious after being accused of infidelity?’

 

Just as his gaze began to feel overwhelming, he parted his lips again.

 

“I have to protect you. So much so that I regret not bringing you away from that summer rose garden the moment we first met.”

 

“What kind of nonsense is that?”

 

Asla’s response came automatically—this was ridiculous. 

 

Why would she need his protection? 

 

It was nonsense. 

 

Their marriage had been arranged by the Emperor, meant to buy time for the people of the Holy Kingdom of Sherita to settle in—not to place her under Enoch’s protection.

 

She had never cherished her own life particularly, nor did her status carry any real weight—she was merely the last princess of a fallen holy kingdom. 

 

The more she thought about his misunderstanding over a supposed lover and now this claim that he had to protect her, the more confused she became.

 

‘Why is he bringing up the rose garden in Sherita? That he should have protected me from then?’

 

“Asla.”

 

“…I want to be quiet for a moment.”

 

Asla turned away and stared out the window, ignoring him. 

 

The accusation of an affair still made her bristle, but what kept lingering in her mind was Enoch remembering their first meeting.

 

‘He’s not the type to spout nonsense.’

 

To him, time was precious—his most valuable asset. 

 

He wouldn’t waste it on meaningless games of words.

 

‘Is there another reason he believes he must protect me? Something I don’t know?’

 

Asla brooded over the thoughts swirling in her mind. 

 

Having barely slept the night before, she eventually drifted off while gazing out the window.