An Incomplete Divorce (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 3
“Duke Johann Leopold and Olivia Blanchet divorce abruptly—where has the former duchess gone?”
Accompanied by a sensational headline, their wedding photo dominated the front page of the newspaper, displacing the scandalous private life of the dissolute crown prince and dominating tabloids day after day.
Given that Duke Leopold’s divorce followed a marriage once tainted by a notorious scandal—his union with Blanchet’s illegitimate daughter—it was only natural that the Riden high society had been thrown into an uproar.
“There you’ve been hiding.”
The noblewomen were stunned to see Olivia seated like a painting in the spring sunlight.
“Indeed. Who would have thought we’d encounter the duchess in such a place…”
“Duchess, nothing of the sort. You should refer to her as Miss Blanchet now.”
Carol cast a sharp glance and lowered her voice. The reprimanded lady blushed, flustered by her remark.
“She must have secured quite the fortune, as the rumors claim. To think she’d brazenly show up at the Lancelot Hotel, forgetting her place entirely.”
The other noblewomen covered their mouths in agreement, clicking their tongues at Carol’s words.
“But what on earth is she doing in Lytton?”
“The Rose Ball is coming up soon. Perhaps she hopes to improve her luck somehow.”
May in the Kingdom of Britte was the season of the Lytton Flower Festival. Among its many events, the Rose Ball at the Lancelot Hotel was second only to the royal ball in prestige.
Conversely, in the Kingdom of Rhondos, May was a month of mourning—the month Queen Katrina’s husband had passed away.
Large-scale balls and social gatherings were discouraged. For members of the social elite, bored stiff by idleness, the festival across the sea in Britte offered a kind of escape.
“They say she extracted an enormous sum in alimony—surely she’s indulging luxuriously here. Otherwise, how could an illegitimate, divorced woman possibly set foot in the Lancelot Hotel? She has no sense of propriety, does she?”
With envious glances, they sidled toward Olivia. Anne was the first to notice.
Anne quickly seized Olivia’s arm.
“Miss, shall we take a walk in the garden today? They say the rose garden here is renowned for its beauty. The weather’s perfect for a stroll.”
The words tumbled out in haste.
Olivia tilted her head, wearing a look of thoughtful hesitation.
“If you’re still tired, we can just return to your room.”
Anne was anxious. But Olivia, unaware of the reason, remained calmly composed.
Meanwhile, a lavishly adorned flock of noblewomen strutted closer, heads held high.
It was unclear whether they were heading to their seats under staff guidance or directly toward this spot, and Anne’s heart burned with impatience.
Though the young lady had changed, if she were to suffer another mental collapse, she might revert entirely to her former self.
“Miss?”
Olivia fell deep in thought.
According to the pamphlet, the Lancelot Hotel boasted a paradise of roses—names like ‘Princess d’Alensia,’ dedicated to the late Queen Alensia of Britte, as well as Double Delight and Iceberg—varieties entirely unfamiliar to her.
She doubted she’d ever have the chance to visit such a luxurious hotel again.
“Let’s go to the garden.”
Olivia replied with a bright smile.
Rising from their seats, the two turned immediately toward the terrace opening onto the garden behind them.
Just as they stepped over the threshold—Anne moving with unusual swiftness for her—Olivia’s name rang clearly through the piano melody.
“Miss Blanchet.”
Anne’s heart dropped. She longed to pretend not to hear and whisk her young lady away, but Olivia slowly turned around.
The sunlit cafeteria, filled with transparent spring light, seemed suddenly gripped by winter.
The icy air felt as though it might shatter at any moment. Anne feared their peaceful days in Lytton were about to end.
“It really is Miss Blanchet. I’m delighted to meet you. My name is Elaine.”
The woman approached with a graceful smile and a polite greeting, followed by the cluster of noblewomen.
“…Hello.”
Olivia fumbled through her memories before returning the greeting a beat too late. The face was unfamiliar.
The woman’s manners were impeccable, yet her contemptuous gaze was either poorly concealed—or she simply didn’t care to hide it.
Olivia caught it instantly. It was the same look she’d endured her entire life, and she’d grown accustomed to reading it.
Those who masked their disdain with smiles always wanted something from her—and it never ended well. Not once.
“Are Miss Elaine and I acquainted? I don’t seem to recall.”
“We’ve never formally met. I’ve seen you at a few parties.”
“Oh.”
Olivia let out a soft, gentle sigh, her lips curving into a quiet smile.
In a place where illegitimate children born of affairs were despised, her only recourse was to slip alone onto the terrace with a drink.
Once sufficiently warmed by alcohol, her mood improved just enough to blunt the suffocating weight of their stares.
That was precisely how much strength champagne lent her—and no more.
Unfortunately, Olivia’s problem had always been her lack of restraint, inevitably leading to disgraceful scenes.
And this woman had witnessed that near-beastly side of her—more than once.
Her contempt, therefore, was understandable.
“I hear your lawyer performed quite remarkably during the divorce.”
“…”
“They say you received more alimony than Princess Annabel did upon her divorce—is that true?”
“Didn’t you even ask for Cres Island?”
“How shameless can one be? Then again, if you knew shame, you never would have used such vulgar tricks to seduce the duke and demanded marriage in return.”
Though they prided themselves as ladies, in this moment they abandoned all pretense, deliberately raising their voices so the entire cafeteria’s attention locked onto Olivia.
Under mocking gazes, the corners of their mouths curled upward with open delight.
She could have explained that these were merely unverified rumors, baseless chatter from the press.
But would they believe her? Truth hardly mattered to them.
Humiliating Olivia Blanchet was nothing more than a small amusement in their dull daily lives—something they’d invent themselves if necessary.
Beneath their refined exteriors lay a petty desire to crush the woman who, undeserving as they saw her, had usurped the duchess’s seat, dressing in finer gowns and jewels than themselves, and leveraging her husband’s status to stand above them in society.
It was absurd to even sharpen her claws against such foes.
Moreover, the terms of the alimony had been Johann’s decision—but they’d never accept that. They simply wanted to see Olivia Blanchet humiliated.
So she decided to strike back—just a little more fiercely.
“I had no idea my husband owned an island. Had I known, I certainly would have asked for it. What a pity.”
Olivia smiled with genuine regret.
“If you ever need a capable lawyer, do let me know—I’d be happy to recommend one. You never know what life might bring.”
“Goodness, such impudence…”
“What I’ve realized since the divorce is this: in life, money matters far more than a husband.”
An elegant chill radiated from Olivia’s smile.
She refused to give them the reaction they expected. With deliberate poise, she let a confident, radiant smile linger on her lips—as if to show them plainly that the Olivia Blanchet they thought they knew no longer existed.
The women stood agape, jaws slack.
She must have gone mad after the divorce!
The Olivia they’d always seen at banquets was cowed by her shameful origins—hunched, silent, and glued to the wall, never daring to speak a word.
Even draped in the title of Duchess Leopold, she remained invisible in society.
Now, for such a lowly, insignificant creature to humiliate them—noblewomen whose lips twitched pale with fury.
“That necklace is quite lovely.”
Just as she turned to leave, Olivia added a remark, her eyes lingering pointedly on Elaine’s necklace.
“It suits you well.”
At the sudden compliment, all eyes turned to Elaine’s throat.
There shimmered a dazzling pink diamond necklace—Elaine’s pride and joy, a gift from her husband commemorating their seventh wedding anniversary.
“You have taste, at least.”
For your station.
Elaine lifted her chin haughtily, straightening her neck with regal poise.
“But if you truly care about dignity, you ought to avoid fakes. They make you look counterfeit too.”
Leaving the flushed woman behind, Olivia exited onto the garden through the terrace with Anne.
Amidst the dizzying scent of early-blooming red roses, gasps of astonishment rose from the noblewomen.
[This is the timeline separator]The two wandered quietly down the rose garden path. The rich fragrance of plump blooms brushed past their noses.
Anne stole a glance at her mistress, who walked with poised grace.
Watching her tread confidently through the clear sunlight dappling the stone path, Anne realized—the young lady, now a stranger to her former self, would no longer hide in the shadows.
“I didn’t know you remembered.”
Anne spoke softly as she adjusted the wind-tousled ribbon on Olivia’s blouse.
“Hmm? Remembered what?”
“…That necklace.”
“Oh!”
Silence fell between them in the rustling spring breeze. Without words, they walked on, recalling the same day.
One day, the late duchess’s heirloom vanished, throwing Greathill into turmoil.
Less than ten minutes into the search, the necklace astonishingly appeared in Anne’s room—as if by magic.
“I swear before God—it wasn’t me! Please believe me.”
Though the accusation was clearly a setup, no one believed Anne—not even her young lady.
“I’m sorry, Anne. For putting you through that.”
“No, miss. That wasn’t why I mentioned it. It’s just that back then…”
Anne halted. The words lodged in her throat refused to come out.
She should have warned her not to trust Diane Brook—should have cautioned her about the secretary’s treacherous intentions toward the duke.
“Be grateful for His Grace’s mercy. Next time you let that mouth of yours run loose, it won’t be you who suffers—but your young lady. Understand?”
“Why bring up back then?”
“…Nothing, miss. It’s nothing at all.”
Anne chose silence. She feared Diane Brook’s schemes might drive another wedge between them. It was neither a pleasant memory nor worth revisiting—it was all in the past now.
“Let’s head that way, miss.”
Fleeing almost instinctively, they entered a part of the garden that, true to its urban hotel setting, exuded refined charm. Whoever owned the hotel was clearly a deeply romantic soul.
Roses bloomed profusely in every direction. At the center, a grand fountain spouted cool streams, while intricate boxwood hedges formed exotic patterns around it.
Warm sunlight bathed Olivia and Anne as they strolled beneath the trees.
Walking in silence, they passed the embroidered flower beds and reached a neatly trimmed hedge-lined path. Between the hedges lay a route leading directly to a tennis court.
As they drew nearer, heavy breathing and sharp shouts of “Ha!” reached their ears.
Two gentlemen were locked in a match on the grass court. Even from a distance, their figures—dressed in white formal shirts and flannel trousers, swinging rackets with vigor—commanded attention.
Olivia stopped and watched them.
Her gaze fixed on the notably tall man. His agile, fluid movements as he chased the ball, combined with his dark hair glinting in the sunlight, evoked the image of an elegant predator.
The man took a breath, tossed the ball upward—and Olivia tilted her head to follow the green sphere. Above the dazzling blue sky unfolded Ji-an’s summer.
She vividly recalled those summers spent tanning beside him under the pretext of playing tennis—the piercing cries of cicadas that once felt like they’d choke her.
Senior.
Why had she fallen for him with such painful intensity?
She’d loved him so dearly that calluses formed on her palms from gripping the racket and blisters rose on her feet. He’d never know the desperate struggle behind it—but every moment had been joyful to her.
To him, she’d been nothing more than the granddaughter of a housemaid who helped manage his household. To Ji-an, he was her first love.
As if to shatter her reverie, a short roar erupted—the racket struck the ball at tremendous speed. The spectators burst into cheers. Young ladies clapped and cheered ecstatically.
The crowd encircling the tennis court erupted in applause for the match’s victor.
“He’s truly magnificent!”
“If only he’d glance this way just once…”
The noblewomen whispered shyly, unable to tear their eyes from the man striding leisurely across the court—drops of sweat glistening on his well-groomed hair.
His walk radiated the arrogance of a sovereign over all creation.
Male lead says he’s pregnant — and it’s female lead’s child
Something seems a bit off about this world.
Wang Zhao thought as she watched a pregnant man walking towards her…
Intro
Female lead finds herself in a world where the men who possess the ability to bear children.
As she navigates this unfamiliar reality, she is caught off guard by the sudden appearance of her boyfriend, who reveals that he is pregnant.
Is this truly her boyfriend?
Why can’t she recall any details about their time together?
She begins to doubt whether the child her boyfriend is carrying is even hers.
Is there a hidden reason behind her amnesia, or could it be a side effect of her sudden arrival in this strange new world?
Just when it seems the protagonist’s life couldn’t become any more entangled, her ex-boyfriend makes an unexpected appearance, raising questions about the protagonist’s past.
__________
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This story deserves more hype. People should know more about this.
Sounds like someone is planning to make a misunderstanding between our couple
Here we go again, poor Olivia always getting hurt by men