Sasha's face was clearly flustered. The very master who seemed as if not a single drop of blood would come out even if pricked with a needle was now crying right in front of her.
"Milady! Please calm down first…! Your eyes will swell up. A hand— a handkerchief!"
As I shed crocodile tears, I glanced sideways. Thankfully, Sasha seemed to have completely fallen for my act. Of all flowers to give someone to make their heart flutter, it had to be the kind used for honoring the deceased.
If I kept pretending not to know and feigning ignorance, things would truly spiral beyond repair.
So this was the moment to make use of the maid. Wiping away the tears I had forced out, I grabbed Sasha's hand tightly.
"Ha… I really didn't know. I guess the symptoms are worse than I thought."
Sasha, who had been quietly patting my shoulder, spoke with a hint of doubt in her voice.
"You really… don't remember anything at all?"
"I suppose the aftereffects of the accident are more serious than I realized. To forget even such basic things… And to show him such a mess of myself… Just thinking about how hurt he must have been makes my heart ache."
Maintaining a deliberately wistful expression, I let my lips tremble.
'Go on, hurry and tattle. Do what you're best at—snitching!'
Seeing Sasha's gaze soften a little, I cheered inwardly. Then, as if driving in the final nail, I continued.
"I don't want things to stay strained between Edmund and me… How did we end up like this? Sasha, is there any good solution? You're the only one I can trust right now."
"Milady…"
With tearful eyes, as if moved, Sasha went on.
"For now, I'll explain your situation carefully to His Grace. Please don't worry too much."
"Sasha, I'm really lucky to have you."
"It's only natural that I do this! In the meantime, perhaps you could try doing something for His Grace to make up for what happened?"
"Make up for it?"
Her face was filled with determination. I'd moved the pieces—now it was time to use my specialty.
The next morning, warm sunlight shone over my closed eyes.
"Mmm."
Freed from the pressure of going to work, a languid hum slipped out of me. Just as I was savoring today's peace, Sasha's voice rang out.
"Milady, you have a guest."
A familiar morning, a familiar flow, even familiar lines. Everything was going according to plan.
'Our Sasha is talented. Truly talented.'
Suppressing the smile tugging at my lips, I slowly turned my gaze. Where my eyes landed was the bouquet I had made by hand last night to give to Edmund.
'Who would've known that white chrysanthemums symbolize good fortune here?'
Before making the bouquet, I had even confirmed the meaning of the flowers with Sasha, so there would be no failure this time.
"Milady? Are you still asleep?"
After a brief hesitation, Sasha urged again.
"It's me."
Perhaps tired of waiting, a low voice came from outside the door.
I immediately got up and picked up the prepared bouquet. Once ready, I took a low breath—"Phew…"—and turned the doorknob.
Then quickly—
"Th-this!"
I thrust the chrysanthemum bouquet I had hidden behind my back into Edmund's hands. At once, his calm red eyes flickered in surprise.
"I-I wanted to apologize. I made it in a hurry. I really didn't know that flower had that meaning…"
Edmund, who had taken the bouquet without thinking, lowered his gaze silently. Against his dark skin, the pure white chrysanthemums looked oddly out of place.
Their gazes tangled in midair, and after a brief silence, he pressed his innocent lips together hard.
"Ahem. I see."
With that short reply, an awkward silence followed. For a moment, I caught sight of Sasha smiling stiffly behind Edmund's back.
Seeing her even gesturing at me to hurry and speak, I gathered my courage again.
"They say the 'Happy Happy Flower' means good luck and happiness, just like its name, so I prepared it… Do you not like it?"
I bit my lip while looking at the chrysanthemum bouquet in Edmund's arms—no, the Happy Happy bouquet.
"…I do."
At his tiny, almost inaudible voice, I perked up my ears and asked again.
"Pardon? What did you say? I couldn't hear you."
"I said I like it."
With that reply, the stiffness in Edmund's face gradually eased.
It seemed like the misunderstanding might clear up at this rate, but unfortunately, after that brief exchange, silence flowed between us once more.
How much time passed like that?
'Say something. Anything.'
It felt as though my insides were burning. Even though plenty of time had passed, the man before me maintained a languid gaze like a monk in silent meditation.
'Is this some new form of torture? A silent penance to absolve sins or something?'
I could confidently say that if there were such a thing as sitting on pins and needles, this would be it. More time passed. My lips tingled—I couldn't endure it any longer.
"Haha, the tea's gone cold. Shall we move somewhere else? I heard Letin is making lobster today…"
I deliberately trailed off, watching Edmund's reaction. Despite my subtle suggestion, he only wore an unreadable expression and gave no particular response.
In the meantime, Edmund's pupils settled on the pure white blossoms. She wasn't the only one feeling stifled in this situation.
'I have no idea what he's thinking.'
What he had heard from Chloe's maid the night before had been shocking beyond words. No—more accurately, there hadn't been a single day without confusion since the carriage accident.
Not only simple memories, but even the most basic things forgotten. It was difficult to determine where the truth began and ended.
The sight of Chloe looking noticeably thinner after just one night bothered Edmund. The bouquet in his arms was an added complication.
'Milady is very upset. I barely managed to calm her down just now—she was crying.'
At first, he had been certain it was a lie. But the more he listened to the maid's report, the heavier the possibility became that Chloe might truly have lost her memory.
'That can't be. Don't be fooled.'
After a brief moment of thought, he schooled his expression as if nothing were wrong and spoke in an even tone.
"About yesterday."
"It was all my fault."
She cut him off before he could even finish. His once-proud wife immediately lowered her tail.
'Did she really make a mistake?'
That sight alone was enough to turn Edmund's already complicated thoughts into a battlefield.
'No, that can't be. Even that must be an act. Don't waver. You must not waver.'
Moistening his dry lips, Edmund hypnotized himself. Don't be fooled. Don't be shaken.
After a moment's thought, he lowered the Happy Happy bouquet from his arms to the ground at his feet. At the same time, a dark shadow fell over the fully bloomed flowers.
"Yes. I heard what happened from the maid."
"..."
With a complicated look on her face, Chloe remained silent. At the same time, Edmund's brow furrowed deeply.
Chloe had always been like this. Ever since their marriage began, she had done nothing but leave him with questions.
There has to be something she's hiding.
Seeking an answer, his sharp red eyes slowly swept over the figure standing before him—her tousled platinum hair and unfocused violet eyes.
Her eyes were so swollen they looked as if she had cried all night. But unfortunately, he couldn't believe it.
That was only natural. Their relationship had already gone irreparably wrong. Others might not know it, but he was certain.
He was certain that the anger and killing intent Chloe had once directed at him would eventually turn into an arrow aimed straight at his heart.
Even if it was neatly wrapped up now, someday she would stab him in the back.
Before long, "Hah..." A weary sigh slipped through Edmund's teeth. Wearing an exhaustion he had never shown before, he spoke evenly.
"I'm not unaware of why you're going this far."
Inside, Chloe cheered. At last—he finally understood her heart.
See? Sincerity really does get through!
Her eyes sparkled as she waited for his next words.
"It won't take long. Just a little while."
"Pardon? What won't?"
"Our divorce."
Excuse me, what nonsense is he spouting right now?
At those words, the pretty, shining lavender in her eyes vanished. Just the other day he had blushed while handing her flowers, and now he was cutting ties like this?
Oh, so that's why he suddenly put down what he'd been holding so carefully? Out of nowhere? To me?
Her breathing grew ragged. She desperately needed to steady both her body and her mind.
At this rate, she would be divorced without a doubt. And then she'd spend the rest of her life miserable—without a home, without money, without a husband—until she died wretched and alone.
A wave of sorrow washed over her. As if being transmigrated into someone else's body wasn't enough, now she was destined to die alone in a strange place with no one to rely on. For a "divine opportunity," it was cruel indeed.
Calm down, Chloe. He's ridiculously handsome. Fortune favors the bold—you can win over a handsome man. You can do this! You can fix this damn marriage! Don't give up!
She tried to console herself and resolve this desperate situation through conversation.
Then he spoke again, his voice somewhat tired.
"Don't worry. I intend to give you what you want soon enough."
"What exactly?"
"The divorce. It's what you wanted so badly you were willing to risk your life for it. Let's do it. The divorce."
Her heart pounded, adrenaline surging through her veins. The mind that had been racing just moments ago abruptly short-circuited.
Her face flushed hot, like a grenade with the safety pin pulled.
"Are you seriously talking about divorce right now?"
"Yes. Divorce. Once things settle down, I'll take care of the paperwork. So please, just stay still until then. I'm asking you."
That was it. Snap. The thin thread of reason she'd barely been clinging to finally broke. Ever since long ago, she'd had a special nickname.
Honey badger.
The most fearless animal in the world. Despite its cute appearance and small body, it charged at lions and tigers alike with reckless ferocity—and boasted an impressive win rate to match.
"When did I ever say I wanted something like that?"
Two gazes collided. The lavender eyes that usually maintained a gentle warmth were now cold as ice.
That must be an act too.
Keeping his face expressionless, Edmund turned around at once. Just as his large hand grasped the doorknob—
"It seems we're speaking the same language but meaning completely different things."
I stepped forward, enunciating each word with emphasis. As my footsteps approached, Edmund's indifferent gaze shifted toward me.
"I'm giving you what you want. What's the problem?"
"What exactly do you think I want? There's a limit to how much I can tolerate, you know?!"
Overcome with indignation, I bit down on my lip. Then I closed the distance between us by a step. In the blink of an eye, my slender fingers shot out and seized his collar.