Chapter 9

“Just because. I heard it somewhere.” 

“You heard it somewhere? Who, who would dare?” 

Asla found Enoch’s startled expression strangely fascinating.   

It was either true or not—why get so worked up?   

But the sharp, probing look in his eyes left her no choice but to answer reluctantly. 

“Vice President Robert Hesse…” 

“That bastard’s been running his mouth?” 

“Maybe…?” 

Avoiding his gaze, she mumbled her answer and then tightly shut her eyes.   

In her heart, she sincerely apologized to Robert, whom she had never even met.   

But what he’d said in the dream had been true. 

‘I’m sorry, Robert Hesse. I swear I’ll find a way to apologize and repay you properly.’ 

While offering that silent apology to a man she might never meet, Asla cautiously peeked a look with one eye at Enoch. 

‘Huh?’ 

Enoch stood there slack-jawed in shock, looking nothing like himself.   

The Enoch Ventus she knew was the epitome of an imperial nobleman—always poised, always dignified.   

But now, he looked like a regular man.   

Of course, no ordinary man could shine more brilliantly than a lake in the late afternoon sun like he did.   

Asla smiled at the thought… then quickly dropped it and forced her expression flat again. 

‘I must really be losing it.’ 

To sever the fragile hope rising deep within her, she said as coldly as she could: 

“Of course, I know it’s not true. Robert Hesse was just talking nonsense. I just… wanted to check with you, just once.” 

Enoch slowly lowered the hands that had been covering his face and stared at her with a blank look. 

“It’s not true?” 

“Of course not. There’s no way someone like you would ever fall for me.” 

Asla began to feel uncomfortable under his gaze.   

His eyes trembled, like he was hurt.   

This was too much—why was he acting like a completely different person now, of all times? 

And why…why was she already starting to miss this simple moment they shared? 

‘You’re pathetic.’ 

She hated this greedy part of herself—still wanting, even as she prepared to walk away from the man she’d once loved, the one she’d waited for all those years. 

“I—!” 

Enoch opened his mouth as if to say something, his expression twisted, but the words didn’t come.   

His silence and her own painful words wounded Asla in return, and she looked down at the plate on the table to hide her turmoil. 

A man like you could never love someone like me. 

She let out a sorrowful breath, convinced now that the dream she’d had hadn’t been divine intervention—just her unconscious mind creating foolish illusions. 

‘That final image of blue waves… Maybe it was the gods’ way of telling me to wake up from a useless dream.’ 

She was mortified.   

She had never even met Robert Hesse in real life—maybe she’d just brushed past his name somewhere.   

Asla hunched her shoulders, slumping in her seat.   

Enoch, watching her quietly wilt like that, felt suffocated.   

He didn’t even know where to start, or how to explain.   

A heavy silence fell between the Duke and Duchess of Ventus.   

At that moment, the main course was served. 

Seeing the steam rise from the steak, Asla decided to break the awkward silence and said as kindly as she could: 

“Please eat, before it gets cold.” 

When Enoch kept staring at her, she started slicing her steak and added: 

“Oh, right.” 

Since it had come to this, she figured she might as well confirm that it really was all just a dream.   

She had decided to dismiss it as a silly fantasy, but there were still a few lingering doubts.   

So she asked, casually, “Enoch, do you remember the emergency continental conference that was held in the Holy Kingdom seven years ago? Do you happen to know anything about the donation that was sent to the Holy Kingdom back then?” 

Enoch’s handsome brow twitched as a complex expression crossed his face.   

After a moment, he let out a short sigh. 

“…What?” 

Hearing that noncommittal response—neither a yes nor a no—Asla was certain. 

‘I knew it—it wasn’t true, after all.’   

That senile god hadn’t shown her the truth after all.   

Asla felt a flicker of disappointment, but oddly enough, she also felt relieved.   

She didn’t want to complicate things when she was on the verge of divorcing Enoch.   

Letting go really did bring peace of mind. 

Just as she picked up her knife again and began slicing the rest of her steak, Enoch murmured quietly, “Did Robert talk about that too?” 

What…?   

Asla felt her heart drop like a stone. Her limbs froze.   

She stared blankly at her trembling knife, too stunned to move, as Enoch continued, 

“The donation didn’t accomplish what it was meant to anyway. You don’t need to worry about it.” 

He spoke so casually—composed, even—unlike the startled Asla.   

Lifting his knife with elegance, he cut a piece of meat, placed it in his mouth, and chewed slowly.   

Asla suddenly recalled the dream she’d had that morning, every detail flaring to life. 

“…You really… gave ten million luan?” 

Her voice shook as she asked. Enoch narrowed his eyes. 

“You even know the exact amount. If you already knew, why are you only asking now? It was seven years ago. It’s all in the past.” 

“Can I ask why you gave it?” 

Asla looked at him, her voice barely steady.   

Enoch met her eyes in silence, then gave a quiet laugh.   

That smile—so beautiful, yet so lonely—knocked the breath out of her. 

“Didn’t Robert tell you the reason?” 

“…” 

When she gave no reply, Enoch gave her a strange look, the corners of his mouth twitching upward. 

“There’s no reason. That day, the summer rose garden in the Holy Kingdom was just… breathtaking.” 

He spoke dreamily, as if recalling a distant memory.   

But then, his gaze sharpened, locking on hers. 

“That’s all. Don’t think too much of it.” 

‘Liar.’  

The dream that god had shown her was real.   

Could there be more hidden truths? 

Fear crept in.   

Asla begged silently—pleaded with the god in her heart.   

Please, even if something more remains, don’t show me.   

I don’t want to sink any deeper into this.   

Why does the weight of guilt keep growing heavier? 

Tangled in confusion, sorrow, and bitterness, Asla felt herself drowning.   

Even though she sat in a beautiful, open space with a clear view of the lake, it felt like she was trapped in a maze with no exit. 

Why had the god shown her that dream?   

Still, she had resolved not to believe what Robert had said—that Enoch had fallen in love with her.   

Enoch hadn’t said it himself. He hadn’t confirmed it. 

‘But the ten million luan donation to the Holy Kingdom… that part was real.’ 

Asla’s expression darkened.   

Even for the Duke of Ventus, ten million luan was no small sum.   

At the time, Enoch had only been eighteen.   

He hadn’t yet accumulated the immense wealth he had now. 

The Ventus fortune had begun to grow only after his father passed and Enoch officially received the title.   

The businesses he started had rapidly succeeded: steel investments, banking, real estate, hotels. 

Asla had always found it difficult to understand how someone as aristocratic as Enoch could be so skilled in business. 

‘Come to think of it, I’ve never even seen what Enoch looks like when he’s working.’ 

He spent most of his time in the capital, not in the Ventus territory, handling affairs from there.   

She realized suddenly—maybe she didn’t really know Enoch Ventus at all. 

Had she just assumed she did, thinking that loving him meant knowing him?   

Was it possible… 

‘I didn’t really love him—just the version of myself who loved him?’ 

“…Does it not suit your taste? I’ll order something else.” 

As Enoch reached out to call the waiter, having noticed Asla barely eating and lost in thought, she quickly stopped him. 

“No, it’s just… the restorative tonic I had earlier didn’t sit well with me.” 

“You only eat one meal a day? No wonder you’re so thin.” 

“You… eat more than I expected.” 

“This is normal.” 

Enoch had cleared his plate completely.   

Seeing how well he ate, Asla somehow felt full herself.   

Watching him eat so neatly and with such genuine enjoyment, she even felt… comforted. 

‘Maybe I should cook for him. Just once before the divorce.’ 

She’d never cooked a single dish before, but she thought—why not? 

‘I can learn.’ 

Asla nodded subtly to herself.   

She couldn’t possibly make up for the ten million luan he donated to the Holy Kingdom, but at the very least, she wanted to do something—anything—for him. 

Her heart was unbearably heavy.   

If that money had been truly used to purify the Holy Kingdom, it might’ve been different.   

But she was sure now—her father had used it for something else. 

That truth was so shameful it made her sick.   

It was a relief to have finally learned it… but she couldn’t help resenting the god who had revealed it. 

‘What now? So what? What am I supposed to do with this? Will you pay it back on my behalf or something?’ 

While she was swallowing the fury churning inside, Enoch stood and walked toward her after finishing his meal. 

Standing before her, he held out his hand. 

“Let’s go. I’ll find something lighter for you next time. Something easier to eat.” 

“…Should we?” 

“I mean, you don’t have to eat.” 

She wanted to say it.   But something told her if she refused, her husband—oddly strange today—would make a fuss.   

So she stood. 

Her husband, strangely warm and familiar. 

As she walked out of the restaurant with her arm in Enoch’s, Asla felt an overwhelming wave of melancholy. 

“…Why are you being so kind to me?” 

“Is this what kindness looks like?” 

There was nearly a full head’s height difference between them, so as she kept her eyes forward, she heard his voice fall from above and gave a faint, dry laugh. 

“Of course. Dresses, jewelry, shoes, delicious food… and a gentle escort. It’s practically a date.” 

“…The money I spend is yours too, so I don’t think sending you gifts counts as being ‘kind.’ And an escort—that’s just basic courtesy. As for dates… we’re married. Isn’t it natural?” 

His voice held confusion as he listed things one by one. 

Asla honestly found him ridiculous.   

Enoch Ventus—so sharp, so perfect—was absolutely lacking in insight. 

She looked up at his face. 

“Natural and expected, you say? But in two years, not once did you ever do this with me.” 

“…Is that why you want a divorce?” 

His voice was hoarse.   

But Asla continued calmly. 

“I think I finally understand now.” 

At that, Enoch’s face, bathed in sunset light, shifted into something quietly sorrowful.   

Despite the resentment in her heart, Asla’s gaze dropped the moment she caught sight of his handsome face again. 

Enoch said nothing more, and neither did she.   

They walked for a long time through the evening crowd, both silent. 

“…Enoch.” 

Feeling the discomfort settle deep, Asla made up her mind to return to the hotel alone and called out to him—   

But Enoch suddenly stopped in his tracks. 

“I was… too busy. It’s the truth.” 

“…I know.” 

She did know.   

She answered with a faint, pained smile. 

Enoch’s thick brows twitched violently at the sight of her weary expression. 

“You don’t understand at all.” 

“What is it that I don’t understand?” 

Asla blinked, confused.   

A fire began to burn in her chest—real, rising anger.