When I Asked My Husband for a Divorce, He Said He’d Be Bringing Home a Young Woman, So I Left - 7
“My lady…are you truly alright with this…?”
As I gazed quietly at the scenery flowing past the small window, listening to the rhythmic clatter of turning wheels, my maid timidly spoke up.
I left town without seeing Ixel.
I instructed the ashen-faced manager—who no longer looked like a living being—to never speak of my visit and to silence anyone who might know. I made him promise to retrieve and destroy any letters I’d previously sent to Ixel at the front lines.
I decided I never went to town.
Therefore, I decided I couldn’t possibly know about Ixel’s leave or his affair.
Though my guards’ brief inquiries in town revealed the two were likely at a lakeside village not far away—what good would confronting them do?
The Ixel I knew, the Ixel I loved, would never do such things.
True, he could be oddly lazy about trivial matters and careless when it counted. His past betrayals had left him somewhat cynical. But at his core, he was undeniably sincere—a man beloved by all.
Even if his feelings for me had faded, he would have disciplined himself until properly ending things with me. He’d never disregard me, who’d worked tirelessly for the territory—for Ixel—since our engagement.
Faced with this reality, I almost doubted whether this was truly my husband Ixel.
But doubt changes nothing.
However I tally our shared days, Ixel and Charlotte have likely spent more time together.
Eight years as a duelist and the brutal front lines against monsters may have remade him into someone I no longer recognize.
Though sadness and anger well within me, my heart remains numb, as if all events move forward without me.
“Shal.”
His sweet voice calling me.
Realizing I might never hear it again nearly made me laugh.
My name is Charlotta.
In this kingdom’s style, it’s Charlotte. The foreign pronunciation comes from my grandmother, whose name I inherited when she married here from abroad.
Yes—just a phonetic difference separating Charlotte and me. The same name, whether called Shal or Lottie.
In fact, Charlotte is called “Shal” by everyone except Ixel. Only he calls her “Lottie,” insisting it’s his wife’s name.
Being the sole one to use a different name—how special that must have looked to others.
As whispers of their closeness spread, the townsfolk began secretly calling me “the other one” to distinguish us.
Well, some of it was surely envy toward the upstart count’s family favored by royalty.
My own name, yet “not Shal.” The legitimate wife, yet “the one not by his side.”
The one not loved.
The label cut deep.
Overt slights I could counter, but how does one fight formless malice? I could only straighten my back and pour myself into managing the territory and trading company.
One cannot resist the tide.
We can only do what we can where we stand.
Having lived this way always, I suppose I’ll continue thus—I know no other path.
Just as I obeyed my father when he arranged my marriage at the king’s request, if Ixel divorces me, I’ll simply comply.
I am powerless.
Leaning back, the carriage’s vibrations seemed to stroke my back.
As I cried while quietly laughing, my maid finally broke into sobs.
Someone is crying for me.
Though my heart remains dull, I’m deeply grateful for that.