Life After Divorce (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 11

My sister, who used to cry desperately even over a rabbit that died after being kept for a week.

Moreover.

“It’s been a while. Seeing my sister smile so happily.”

Thus, he decided right then in the drawing room to confine Etricia within the mansion and prevent her escape.

It was also an excellent method to uncover the other party’s purpose, motives, and whether they had any hidden backers.

Since all her movements would be confined within his own domain, she wouldn’t even dare consider threatening his sister.

Edmund shook off his thoughts, turning away from the large window.

“Tale, I’ll grant you command over the punitive squad. Once you return, investigate my sister’s whereabouts from that time. Rail, stay here as the butler and take charge of surveillance within the mansion.”

Rail’s eyes widened.

For nine years, while protecting Lirien, Rail had diligently handled administrative duties and mastered the role of a butler. It was as if he’d been preparing for this very day.

“Yes, my lord.”

The twins, who had been growling at each other while clutching each other’s collars, released their hold as if pushing one another away and bowed deeply.

At Edmund’s slight nod of the chin, they stepped backward and melted into the shadows.

He looked once more down beneath the brilliantly bright window, where the light stung his eyes.

Below the window, Etricia was smiling—clear and serene as a cloudless blue sky, utterly free of worry.

Unaware that a gaze sharp as an axe blade was falling upon her from above.

[This is the timeline separator]

I glanced around my newly assigned bedroom.

Intricate, opulent wallpaper, delicate figurines, and a canopy bed.

I knew at once—this was the space where little Lirien’s time had gathered dust.

My wandering gaze settled on the man standing before me.

“I am Rail. From today onward, I shall serve as butler of Mipidian Mansion, attending to the Countess.”

The man with long navy hair cascading like a waterfall gave a faint, practiced smile.

“Nice to meet you, butler Rail.”

“The honor is entirely mine.”

Slowly straightening his posture, Rail fixed me with his monocle nestled deep in his eye socket. Noticing his blatant scrutiny and guardedness, I smiled inwardly.

‘At this rate, even sneaking out for a midnight stroll won’t be possible.’

“Rail, would you mind leaving for now? I’d like to rest.”

“Understood. Then I shall take my leave.”

Rail bowed neatly and disappeared behind the closed bedroom door.

Only then did I sigh and lean back against the chair.

I was certain—the butler suddenly assigned to me was Edmund’s eyes and ears, placed here for surveillance.

At this point, it seemed reasonable to suspect he’d detained me due to the assassination contract.

‘But that can’t be it.’

The guildmaster’s memories should have been erased. Besides, Lirien was still alive.

Even Edmund couldn’t possibly trace the full process—let alone reach a conclusion—in such a short time without solid evidence.

Yet…

‘Who are you, really?’

Anxiety surged as I recalled the pre-dawn memory of someone pressing a blade against me without warning.

‘…Ugh, just in case, I’ll periodically check the guildmaster’s status through the guild’s monthly bulletin.’

If the guildmaster were dead, it would mean the assassination contract had been exposed.

After vigorously turning the matter over from every angle, I reached a single conclusion.

‘My overprotective younger brother is simply vetting whether I’m a safe person for Lirien.’

After all, he’d rushed back and even advanced his return schedule upon hearing a stranger was staying in the mansion.

Moreover, I was a suspicious figure who’d caused the mansion to burn down overnight and declared divorce within a day.

Given Lirien’s questionable circle of acquaintances, it was understandable he’d view me with narrow suspicion.

Therefore, for now, the best course was to behave like a tongue in his mouth—obedient and quiet—while secretly plotting my escape from the tiger’s den.

‘Oh my, really? You’ll be staying in the mansion?’

Lirien had seemed so genuinely delighted over breakfast at the news I’d be staying. It tugged slightly at my heart.

But once I’d outlined the general boundaries of what not to do, I even felt a strange sense of ease, as though I held the upper hand.

I smiled lazily and stared at the table, picking up the quill submerged in its inkwell and drawing the fine parchment close to my chest.

These were tools I’d instructed a maid to prepare before Rail arrived.

‘Time to return to the original plan.’

I needed to draft a letter to the Emperor.

I moved the quill swiftly, making the goose feather quiver.

Its contents went roughly as follows:

[It has been so long since I last wrote. I hope Your Majesty is in good health. This unworthy child has been too timid to even send a simple greeting, fearing the disfavor of my mother-in-law, Viscountess Antra Dian.]

I directly lamented the atrocities committed by my husband,

[Though shameless it may be, I must tell you—recently, my late father visited me in a dream…]

and used the common trope of a restless spirit unable to leave this world due to unjust death—mentioning the forged will through that narrative.

[ I no longer wish to live with that man. ]

I announced my decision to divorce.

The Emperor would surely see through my clumsy ploy, but he’d likely welcome it nonetheless—it was news he’d been waiting for, so he’d play along.

My plan was then to retrieve the will kept in the VIP rental vault under Count Bueil’s name and send it to the Emperor.

Unfortunately, Devon must have assumed that forging and then destroying the will hidden in the mansion by our father would be enough.

But Father, foreseeing such treachery, had written two wills during his lifetime—one stored in the rental vault, and he’d personally informed me of its existence.

Clearly, he was indeed the head of a vast enterprise. Thanks to his foresight, my investigation had become possible—a stroke of fortune for me.

Only the Emperor’s personally affiliated Magic Tower could perform the specialized, precise magical handwriting authentication of a will.

Since outsiders couldn’t privately request such verification, asking the Emperor directly was the quickest route.

‘Perfect.’

Having completed this long-postponed task, I sealed the letter inside its fine envelope with a satisfied smile.

I then left the bedroom and handed it to Rail, who was busy with handover duties.

“I know you’re busy, but please take care of this.”

Rail accepted the letter without a word—but flinched slightly upon seeing the addressee written on it.

Noticing his subtle change in expression, I widened my eyes innocently.

‘You’re surprised, aren’t you? Daring to write directly to the Emperor.’

After a brief pause, Rail erased his startled look with practiced ease, gave a faint smile, and tucked the letter away.

I narrowed my eyes slightly, watching him carefully.

‘That letter will surely pass through Edmund’s hands.’

That’s precisely why I’d written it to appear pitiful enough to evoke sympathy. There was nothing in it that would trouble him—on the contrary, I hoped it would make him lower his guard.

‘I hope the master of this mansion reads my letter and softens that sharp gaze of his just a little.’

Quietly, I watched Rail’s retreating figure ascend the stairs before heading back to my room.

[This is the timeline separator]

I stole a glance at the Mipidian siblings seated opposite me and reluctantly stuffed bread into my mouth. The soft, moist loaf crumbled so easily I couldn’t tell if it was going up my nose or down my throat.

‘…So now you can eat quite naturally, can you?’

It was already the second day inside the tiger’s den. On the first day, overwhelmed by lavish hospitality, I’d filled my stomach with antacids—but I never expected this on the second.

‘Then again, this is surveillance, after all.’

Lirien, who’d hurriedly placed leafy salads, homemade jams, and croissants before me, smiled brightly when our eyes met.

“Is the food to your liking, Countess?”

I forced down the fermenting lump stuck in my throat as if my windpipe were corked.

“Yes, it’s delicious.”

“I’m glad.”

Lirien beamed as if truly relieved.

Across the table, Edmund, moving his silver cutlery, glanced at me briefly before resuming his mechanical motions.

“It seems my presence makes Countess Bueil uncomfortable.”

Cough—I nearly choked on the bread. After gulping down some water and dabbing my lips with a napkin, I laughed.

“Oh, heavens, not at all! Sharing a meal with Count Mipidian is the kind of privilege Imperial noblewomen would envy.”

A fleeting sneer crossed Edmund’s lips before vanishing—clearly mocking my flattery.

I observed Edmund’s mealtime routine. He ate with precise, efficient movements, as if measured with a ruler.

His chewing lacked any sign of enjoyment; it resembled deliberate nutrient intake more than savoring a meal.

Then again, I myself had no idea what I was even eating—my rubbery chewing of the meat felt absentminded.

The colorful array of dishes brightening the table today felt like nothing but a burden.

Lirien hesitated, tearing her bread into several pieces, then brushed the crumbs from her hands with resolve.

“Countess, may I ask about your plans for today? I’ll be attending a pastry-making class and won’t return until late afternoon…”

She lowered her brows apologetically and offered a faint, sheepish smile.

“Oh, don’t worry about me. I have a meeting scheduled with my lawyer today.”

“A lawyer?”

Yes, a lawyer.

I smiled sweetly.

I needed legal counsel to guide me through every step of the divorce proceedings and handle the paperwork.

That lawyer was none other than Rainbutton—later in the original story, she’d rise to fame with brilliant feats.

Edmund, on the verge of inheriting his title, had murdered Etricia in revenge—at the very least, it was a predictable outcome that could nullify his succession.

Yet despite the Emperor’s fury, it was Rainbutton who secured Edmund’s acquittal.

At the time, the Empire was more chaotic than ever.

Some argued that even a hero shouldn’t justify murder, while others claimed his actions against his enemy were entirely justified.

Commoners abandoned their own affairs to gather in groups, passionately debating the matter.

Meanwhile, certain high-ranking nobles personally intervened, insisting that setting a precedent of acquitting noble-killing would be unacceptable.

But Rainbutton stood firm in her defense of innocence, undeterred by the resentment of her future elite clientele.

After all, most of those outspoken nobles had likely made enemies of their own.

She methodically compiled their past misdeeds into pamphlets and widely circulated them. This twisted the nobles’ arguments into projections of their own hypocrisy, fueling public outrage.

The previously divided populace united in condemning the nobles, spitting in disdain—and soon, they took to the streets with torches in hand.

Even the Emperor had no choice but to grit his teeth and accept the verdict of innocence.

‘Quite a clever strategy, indeed.’

According to the brief narrative mentioning Rainbutton, she was so obsessed with profit she was compared to a crow dazzled by shiny objects—a true slave to capitalism.

In that case, she’d find no client more eager to pay than me. After all, I belonged to that newly wealthy family who owned the famed Leblon Mine.

It was Antra who’d provoked me—though I’d initially intended a civil divorce and reasonable settlement. She’d meddled, so I deserved compensation equivalent to the mansion’s reconstruction costs.

I curled the corners of my lips into a wicked smile.

“…What could you possibly be thinking to wear such an expression?”

Ah—right, we were still at the table. Edmund opposite me was watching me with clear disapproval. I gently cupped my cheek and smiled faintly, as if under the scrutiny of a high-grade monster.