The living room was beautiful enough to catch anyone’s attention, but Debora couldn’t take in her surroundings. The situation was what it was.
However, as soon as she sat down, Zen’s words were unexpectedly unexpected.
“Why did you reach out your arm so recklessly?”
Straightforwardly, what was this about?
“Yes?”
Debora asked in return. As if expecting her to respond that way, Zen sighed heavily and swept his hair back as he spoke.
“Did you think you could save Viscountess Blaise? If so, it’s a misconception.”
Each syllable was filled with emotion.
“Even if you grabbed her, it only made the situation more dangerous.”
Zen glared at Debora with furrowed brows, but Debora was not intimidated. Instead, she seemed a bit puzzled.
‘Then what should I have done?’
Debora reaching out to Dia wasn’t a calculated move. In that situation, Debora was confident that anyone would have acted the same way.
Moreover, Debora wasn’t Dia’s governess. Even if it required throwing her body, it was natural for servants to protect their masters.
Debora’s expression remained calm. However, Zen noticed her confusion.
‘Wondering how she should have handled it, huh.’
Zen felt frustrated. If Debora had retorted with, “Then how should I have done it?” or something, it might have been better than this, but Debora wouldn’t do that.
‘Sigh…’
If given a chance, Zen would openly say something like, ‘You’re the only one that matters. As long as you’re safe, everything is fine. I don’t care about anyone else.’
To Debora, these words might be horribly selfish, but that was Zen’s true nature. What did he care about the perspective of a servant or whatever?
‘I even hated seeing her kneeling down earlier.’
However, Zen couldn’t express these sentiments. He couldn’t make empty remarks that didn’t reflect his true feelings.
“Anyway, Viscountess Blaise is unharmed, and you’re safe, so don’t burden yourself with unnecessary guilt.”
In response to his firm voice, Debora’s eyes, which had been staring into space, turned towards Zen.
“You are by no means at fault.”
Zen looked at Debora with intense eyes as he spoke. Of course, Debora was aware of it. She didn’t push Dia, nor did she create a commotion. Nevertheless, Debora felt guilty.
‘But I can’t stay captive to guilt forever.’
Zen and Dia would also be uncomfortable. Continually lingering in guilt wouldn’t be productive. After organizing her thoughts, Debora smiled gently and replied.
“Thank you for your comfort.”
“It’s not comfort; it’s stating the truth.”
Zen emphasized, narrowing his eyes. In contrast, Debora wore a serene smile.
That was when she noticed. A servant she vaguely remembered was bringing a tea set on a mobile shelf, setting it neatly on the table.
The situation seemed strange to Debora. She had surely asked Shelly to bring herbal tea for Dia. Did Shelly pass on the message to this servant, leading to a misunderstanding?
“By any chance…”
When Debora tried to ask the maid, Zen spoke up.
“I told her to bring it.”
Debora’s eyes widened. Come to think of it, before entering the drawing room earlier, Zen had called a footman and said something. At that time, she thought it was a personal matter he was asking for, but it turned out to be a request for tea.
As the maid tried to pour tea into Zen’s cup, he shook his head. The maid, showing a slightly surprised expression, quickly composed herself and poured tea into Debora’s cup first.
“Please enjoy.”
After the maid poured tea into her own cup, Zen spoke. Holding the teacup, Debora scrutinized the surroundings quietly and sniffed the aroma.
Zen, who was displeased with just observing without drinking, raised an eyebrow.
“This is cold remedy tea?”
Still not taking her eyes off the teacup, Debora said. As Debora pointed out, the tea Zen had prepared was not ordinary tea but rather a remedy for a cold.
Of course, it was just tea, so there wouldn’t be a problem even if a non-patient drank it. However, there would be few who would willingly enjoy the bitter and strong taste when they weren’t sick.
‘Why this tea?’
Worried that Zen might have caught a cold, Debora looked at him. Checking if he was the same person who had glared at her earlier, Zen, avoiding eye contact, spoke.
“Before that commotion, didn’t you say something about having a cold or something?”
‘I said something about having a cold?’
Debora blinked her eyes slowly.
Male lead is a Divorced Husband
She said to him: “Tell me, what makes you like me? I’ll change it!”
Liu Changning transmigrated into a female cannon fodder character in a female-dominant novel.
After reading the first half of the novel’s plot, the first thing she did upon transmigration was to divorce the Pan Jinlian-style male protagonist she had just married.
She indulged herself, pretending to be ugly and poor.
But as time passed, the way that man looked at her became more and more unusual…
Liu Changning was dumbfounded: Tell me, what makes you like me? I’ll change!
――
This lifetime, Pei Yuanshao was rejected by the same woman twice!
The first time, she drove him away. Forced by the situation, he endured the waves of anger in his heart, yielding and humbling himself.
That person lay slanted on a rocking chair, her sallow face emotionless: “If you don’t want a divorce, go cook!”
Pei Yuanshao’s face was dark and gloomy: “You!”
The second time, after the crisis in Jinling City was resolved, the new emperor sent someone to pick him up. He turned around, stammering: “I… I have to go. If you keep me…”
That person lay on the kang bed, her back to him, as if she had long anticipated this day, crisp and clear: “Goodbye!”
Pei Yuanshao was so angry his fingers trembled: “You… you!”
The mission of family and country made him restrain himself, averting his eyes and turning to leave this broken household.
Two years later, they met again. Seeing her ethereal face, his body shook like a sieve.
“She was originally a ‘she’!”
At the Qionglin Banquet, the top scholar of the imperial examination, a talented person with exceptional speech and conduct, all the unmarried young gentlemen from aristocratic families looked at her with shy and timid eyes.
The peerless imperial official Pei Yuanshao felt the anger in his heart erupt. He pointed at the woman surrounded by the crowd at the Qionglin Banquet, his thin lips slightly curled: “Little sister, I wants that person to be the wife-master of my Mingde Prince Manor.”
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