The news that Demian Vandermir had been imprisoned for the murder of his half-brother spread throughout the empire.

The internal succession struggle within the Vandermir ducal family was brought to the surface, and all sorts of vicious rumors of unknown veracity circulated.

Arasila stood by the window, looking down at the journalists who had camped out in front of the mansion today, then abruptly drew the curtains. Since returning home after the New Year’s festival, she had not stepped foot outside.

There was too much attention focused on her, whose husband had become a murderer overnight. Arasila chose seclusion because she needed to move quietly to save Demian.

Still, the people who swarmed like ants, refusing to give up and trying to interview her about her state of mind, were terrible.

While some were living each day feeling as if their blood was drying up, those people treated this whole affair as mere gossip.

Fortunately, the magic tower had sincerely worried about Arasila and granted her an extended leave, telling her to rest for a while.

“My lady, are you alright…?”

Audrey asked cautiously, seeing Arasila’s coldly hardened face. Arasila nodded, letting out a low sigh.

“I’m fine, Audrey. At times like this, I need to stay sharp more than ever.”

“Stay strong, my lady. I’ll be by your side!”

“Thank you, that’s reassuring.”

Arasila smiled faintly and threw the newspapers that had been placed on the table into the fireplace. They were no different from garbage, full of nothing but nonsense.

‘The Tragedy of House Vandermir, A Brother Who Hated His Elder!’, ‘Knight Demian Vandermir, Actually a Murderer Who Enjoys Slaughter?’, ‘Uncovering Demian Vandermir’s Violent Nature’, and so on. The titles were all like this.

Arasila roughly ran her hand through her hair as she walked to her desk. Then she rummaged through the basket where she kept the letters that had arrived for her.

It was empty except for consolation letters from Paula and Iris.

“…Audrey, there are no other letters for me besides these, right?”

“No, not yet, my lady.”

“I see.”

Her blue eyes were tinged with disappointment. It meant that there had been no reply from those she had asked for help.

Of course, it was a difficult matter to get involved in. In a way, it was a fight within one family, so unless it was the imperial family, it would be hard for others to step in.

That’s why she had mainly contacted people from the imperial household, but…

Arasila bit her lower lip hard. As she massaged her stiff eyes, she closed them for a moment and fell into thought.

‘Is there anyone you suspect of framing Demian?’

Duke Hugo had asked such a question while bringing his daughter home.

The first thing Arasila thought of in response was the Vandermir ducal family. But they wouldn’t have killed their beloved eldest son out of madness.

In fact, the current duchess was half-mad and out of her mind, while the duke was knocking on the palace gates every day, pleading for Demian to be torn limb from limb.

Besides the Vandermir ducal family, there was only one person who could attack Demian to this extent…

‘Frederick.’

Recently, Demian had brought down Duke Grant, who had been like Frederick’s right-hand man. This could have been retaliation for that.

‘Even so, it seems a bit excessive. Killing Oscar Vandermir would have been a big risk for him too.’

Was it simply out of hatred for Demian that he carried out such a reckless act, or was there another reason?

As Arasila was tapping her fingers on the sofa armrest, pondering,

Knock knock.

“My lady, may I come in? I have an urgent message for you.”

Colin’s voice was heard from beyond the door along with the knocking sound.

He had been following Arasila since hearing the news of Demian’s detention. They had joined forces to save Demian.

Arasila did not refuse the help of the capable aide. While she was in seclusion, Colin was secretly gathering information on her behalf.

Arasila couldn’t help but tense up when he appeared with a pale blue complexion.

“My lady, Duke Vandermir has submitted a petition for the commander to be executed.”

“What?”

“And the crown prince and the empress’s side are lending their support to the duke’s opinion.”

Arasila’s hands clenched at these dizzying words. If she had been standing, her legs might have given way, causing her to collapse ungracefully.

Colin, who had been wearing a gloomy expression, opened his mouth again with an ‘Ah.’

“But there is one piece of good news. The ban on visiting the commander has been lifted.”

“Is that true?”

Arasila’s eyes widened as she sprang up. She had been dying of anxiety as the imperial family had strictly prohibited meetings with Demian for the sake of an intensive investigation.

She had worried that they might be trapped in an endless wait with no prospect. This was welcome news amid all she had been hearing, and Arasila exclaimed excitedly.

“Apply for a visit right away!”

Demian was imprisoned in the underground dungeon within the imperial palace.

Arasila’s visitation request was immediately accepted, allowing her to meet him the very next day. Following the guard, Arasila was seized by a strange feeling.

It seemed she had descended these stone steps like this when she had the premonition dream of Iris dying.

She hadn’t expected to walk this path again.

The guard who opened the prison door handed over a lamp and briefly stepped aside. Arasila approached the iron bars.

In the underground prison where no sunlight entered, Demian sat in a chair with his eyes closed, in the same attire as when she had last seen him.

“Demian.”

As the voice calling his name trembled faintly, he slowly opened his eyes. His golden eyes shone clearly even in the darkness.

Arasila brought the lamp close through the iron bars. The face revealed in that light had deteriorated much in just a few days.

Feeling a lump in her throat, she tried to speak calmly, lowering her voice at the end.

“I won’t ask if you’re alright. Because you’re not. I was very worried about you.”

“…Were you?”

“Yes, of course. I don’t believe you killed the Vandermir heir. I, who shared a room with you, know full well that you didn’t go anywhere that night.”

Arasila’s fingers gripped the iron bars tightly. The more she thought about it, the more angry and unjust she felt. Her testimony was not accepted simply because she was his wife.

Demian stared intently at her furrowed brow with his gaunt and tired face, and opened his mouth.

“But evidence has emerged that I am the culprit, hasn’t it?”

“You mean that dagger and letter? First of all, Colin looked into the dagger, and it turns out that Sir Toz of your knightly order lost his knight’s dagger to a pickpocket while drunk at the end of last year.”

Toz had not reported the incident to the knightly order. Not knowing that losing the dagger would turn into such a big issue, he had treated it as a minor accident.

Since a knight belonging to the order had lost his dagger, the weapon that killed Oscar didn’t necessarily mean Demian was the culprit.

“The dagger being found in the room, someone could have easily planted it while we were away. If we start by explaining away the dagger, the prince’s letter won’t be decisive evidence.”

Of course, the ‘explaining away’ part would be quite difficult, but Arasila was confident. She would get Demian out of this prison.

She covered her mouth with her hand and whispered softly.

“So even if you feel wronged, please endure it a little longer. I’m doing my best to save you…”

“There’s no need for that.”

“What… What?”

Arasila looked at Demian with a bewildered expression. The lamp’s light illuminated only half of him. The rest, submerged in darkness, was not clearly visible.

But the gaze fixed on her, cooled to an icy chill, was too distinct to ignore, and Arasila became flustered.

“Did I just hear you wrong?”

“You heard correctly. There’s no need for you to make such efforts on my behalf, wife.”

The voice that flowed through his pale, dried lips was lower than usual, and a bit hoarse.

She hadn’t expected him to suddenly draw the line here.

Even after hearing the clear reply, Arasila still stared at Demian in a daze. Demian spoke to her again in a dry, emotionless voice.

“I accepted your visitation request because I have something to say.”

“…What do you have to say?”

“Grant me a divorce.”

Arasila drew in a silent breath. A deep and heavy silence weighed on their shoulders.

Finding it painful to keep looking at the white face frozen in shock and motionless, Demian lowered his eyes slightly.

It hurt as if someone had stabbed a sword into his chest, and his insides twisted, but he endured it steadfastly.

This was exactly what Frederick wanted. For him, now a murderer, to leave Arasila’s side.

Then, for Arasila’s sake, he had to shake her off as coldheartedly as possible.

Even if it hadn’t been for Frederick’s threat, he would have asked Arasila for a divorce. Because he couldn’t drag her down into the abyss with him.

He was worried about what Frederick might do to Arasila after the divorce, but more than that, he needed to end their fake marriage quickly now.

Misfortune doesn’t diminish when shared, it multiplies.

“Let’s end our contract here.”

Demian declared the end once more in a cold voice. Arasila, who had been in a daze, finally came to her senses and squeezed out a retort.

“Demian, are you joking? Do you think this is the time to say such things?”

“I was planning to divorce you after the New Year’s festival anyway.”

“…Why?”

“Because I no longer need you.”

Demian knew Arasila. She had a strong sense of responsibility and wasn’t cold-hearted enough to turn her back on someone in danger.

So he had to be that much sharper and colder. So that Arasila would willingly leave him behind.

“Didn’t we agree to maintain our marriage only until I wanted? I no longer need your presence.”

“…”

“From now on, we’ll only be obstacles to each other, so let’s part ways here. Being with you seems to only increase my enemies, and it’s giving me a headache.”

Even as he chose words that would hurt her, Demian couldn’t look directly at Arasila. So he didn’t notice that her face, which had been full of confusion, had now become calm.

Arasila gripped the lamp tightly and answered in a clear pronunciation.

“I refuse.”

“…Wife, this isn’t something that can be solved by being stubborn.”

“That’s my line. I cannot accept such a sudden divorce demand.”

At her quite firm tone, Demian wore an expression of incomprehension.

Right now, he was clearly a card that should be discarded. In such a situation, if he only spewed out such nasty words, it would be right to cast him aside.

Arasila, her face complex with a mix of anger, hurt, and various other emotions, her lips trembling, shot back.

“Look at the situation you’re in! What do you think will happen to you if we divorce here? There’s nothing good for you in divorcing me!”

“That’s none of your concern.”

“So what? It’s clearly visible to my eyes, and I can’t ignore it. How could I abandon you and leave?”

The closest relatives, the ducal family, were desperate to take Demian’s life. If Arasila left too, there would be no family left to protect him.

There was no way she could leave Demian in such loneliness.

But Demian didn’t appreciate that sentiment. On the contrary, he couldn’t drag Arasila into that loneliness.

“Why can’t you leave? What kind of relationship do we have?”

“…”

“We’re just fake spouses bound by mutual interests. We’re not friends or anything, just strangers who met for business.”

The cold voice hit the damp walls and rang in their eardrums. Demian, furrowing his brow, advised almost pleadingly.

“Please, don’t make the foolish choice of ruining your future.”

The prison guard brought him newspapers three times a day. Mostly ones with unfavorable articles about Demian.

Through this unwelcome act, Demian grasped how public opinion was turning outside.

“The Heir to the Magic Tower, Is This Alright?”

“The Husband of the Future Magic Tower Lord Commits Murder”

“Did Arasila Vandermir Really Not Know About Her Husband’s Crime?”

People didn’t point their knives only at Demian. They did the same to his wife, Arasila. Arasila, though innocent, had her qualifications questioned and was pointed at.

Demian found that hard to bear. He didn’t want to become an obstacle hindering Arasila’s dream.

If you stay with me like this, you’ll surely ruin your future. So leave. Break the contract.

Divorcing as soon as possible, before the formal trial for the murder charge, was currently the best thing Demian could do for Arasila.

“I regret it, marrying you.”

“…”

“Seeing how only bad things keep happening, we were a couple that shouldn’t have met from the beginning.”

Arasila drew in a short breath. The sharply honed words painfully lacerated her heart. Glaring at Demian with eyes that had suddenly turned red, she asked.

“…Is that all you have to say?”

Demian affirmed by not answering. That he had nothing to say except words that would hurt.

Arasila let out a short, mirthless laugh, then immediately wiped all expression from her face. Her pale complexion was like that of a wax figure.

“I didn’t come running here without sleep to hear such words.”

Muttering quietly, she turned her body abruptly. It seemed pointless to continue talking with Demian any further, and she didn’t want to either.

Demian did not hold back the departing figure leaving without a farewell.

He just quietly watched, and when she closed the door and left, he tilted his head back and let out a deep sigh.