THPBC 02

Chapter 2

The Rift (2)

Since the founding of the Empire, the Windmere family had guided the Empire’s finances and diplomacy through trade, foreign relations, and emerging industries.

The Brickwell family, meanwhile, had established its position through unrivaled military power and loyalty.

Both families were founding houses of the Empire, boasting power and prestige second only to the Imperial Family. Yet the fact that the Windmeres and Brickwells did not get along was practically common knowledge.

The feud that had continued for generations was like a deep ravine.

No matter how much water was drawn from it, another stream continued to flow, and no matter how much fresh soil was poured into it, it only created an even greater crack.

And the children of the Windmeres and Brickwells faithfully inherited that feud.

Everyone knew that Lucius of the Windmeres and Celia of the Brickwells, born only three days apart, were sworn enemies who seemed desperate to tear each other apart.

Their first meeting had taken place when they were five, at an Imperial charity event, where they had grabbed each other by the hair and collars, rolled around on the ground, and screamed at each other.

The grudge between them was far deeper than anyone could have imagined.

They were supposed to become the finest gentleman and the most refined lady in the Empire, yet even when the two snarled at each other, everyone simply brushed it off with, “They’re Windmere and Brickwell.”

But every fight must eventually come to an end.

One day, the two families agreed to put their pointless feud to an end and finally joined hands.

The method they chose to extinguish the flames that had burned between them for two hundred years was simple.

They would marry their children to each other.

It was an agreement, reconciliation, transaction, and compromise in which the wishes of the two people actually getting married were never considered.

It was a languid afternoon, with the late sunlight spilling quietly over the carpet through the window frame.

In a study deep inside the estate, where few people ever passed, Celia sat with her feet neatly together and turned the pages of a book with gentle fingers.

The pages moved calmly beneath her thin gloves.

“My lady, my lady. Look at this.”

At the voice calling for her, Celia lifted her eyelids and tucked the loose strands of hair behind her ear.

She still hadn’t gotten used to being called my lady. She frowned for a moment before glancing at the damp newspaper Anne, her personal maid, had held out.

She had no idea where Anne had found it, but it was rather dirty.

“They published another article like this!”

The tip of Celia’s foot, which had been enjoying an afternoon without the master of the house for once, went slack with frustration.

Her sharp gaze fell upon the newspaper. Before long, she had no choice but to abandon her book and snatch the paper, which had something sticky smeared across it.

Anne fidgeted beside her, muttering, “The Grand Duchess threw it into the trash, so I picked it up…”

But the moment Celia saw the words spread before her, she stopped listening.

“……Damn it.”

The word that escaped her lips was hardly something befitting a delicate and noble lady.

Anne squeezed her eyes shut as though she had expected it.

Celia tensed her slender arms. The hand gripping the newspaper rose toward the ceiling, then—

Whack!

She slammed the paper against the wall.

“Who keeps printing this kind of propaganda for anyone to read?!”

The newspaper slid pitifully down the wall and landed on the floor, where one particularly large headline gleamed.

[The Secret Date of the Young Duke and Duchess of Windmere!]

Beneath the headline, tiny lines of print spun a fantasy disguised as a report about the private lives of the couple who had married two and a half years ago, overcoming the feud between their families.

Apparently, the two had gone on a cozy date, stopped at the most famous restaurant in the capital, and then taken a romantic walk at night.

“Ma’am, please calm down! I’m sure either our Grand Duchess or the Duke of Windmere had something to do with this!”

Anne clung miserably to her mistress’s anger.

After grumbling for quite some time, Celia finally pressed a hand to her forehead and sank into the wingback chair.

This wasn’t the first time something like this had happened. Yet every time an article like this appeared, she dutifully became furious all over again.

“I’ll bring you some tea! Please rest for a moment!”

Anne cautiously watched her mistress before scurrying out.

She had quickly realized that retreating from Celia was the best possible choice right now.

Once Anne left, silence settled over the room.

Celia, her white hair falling long over her shoulders, leaned against the armrest. After slowly chewing over her anger, her face gradually returned to peace.

“Haa……”

She swallowed all the words circling on the tip of her tongue and let out a deep sigh.

It had already been two and a half years since Celia Brickwell had become Celia Windmere.

Only two and a half years.

And yet, a full two and a half years.

People no longer made bets about how long it would take for the reconciliation between the Windmeres and Brickwells to fall apart.

Those who had once laughed and said, “It won’t last a week,” or, “No, they have appearances to maintain, so it’ll last at least half a year,” had gradually come to accept their reconciliation.

Everyone except the two people actually involved in the marriage.

“I wonder if Lucius has seen this article too.”

I can’t be the only one in a bad mood.

He absolutely has to have seen this ridiculous pile of fantasies, too.

By then, Anne had returned to the study with a tea tray.

While Anne skillfully prepared the tea, Celia barely managed to put on the dignified appearance of a noblewoman.

“Come to think of it, someone from the charity hospital the Grand Duchess supports is coming today. Would you like to go out and meet them?”

She opened the book that had fallen over and neatly crossed her legs again.

“Why would I?”

At her cold reply, Anne smiled as though she had expected it.

“Just as I thought. I’ll tell the Grand Duchess that you’re not feeling well enough to go out.”

“Do as you please.”

Humming, Anne poured tea into the cup.

The black tea, glowing with a golden hue inside a teacup delicately painted with blue iris patterns, was soon placed before Celia.

“And the milk?”

“I prepared it beforehand.”

Warm milk was served in a small pitcher alongside the tea. There were also thin slices of lemon instead of sugar, which only Celia in this household preferred.

“There’s no reason for our lady to concern herself with whatever charity work the Windmeres are doing.”

Celia did not answer.

Her silence was as good as agreement.

The heavy book in her hands fluttered from one page to the next.

But she soon frowned.

Damn Windmeres.

Thinking about it again only made her angrier, and she couldn’t focus on the words at all.

“My lady?”

“No. It’s nothing.”

The study was quiet.

This was a study Lucius sometimes used.

Celia rarely came here because she hated the possibility of running into him.

Today, however, she had claimed the room because he had gone out to deal with a problem in the mountains to the west of his territory.

No one came looking for the study when its occupant was a lady from the Brickwell family.

The sunset began to slant through the bookshelves, and a thin trail of steam rose from the tea Celia liked to drink. Its gentle fragrance drifted through the room, offering a small measure of comfort to her irritated mood.

“My lady, I know it may be difficult right now, but…… after another year or two, how about receiving a country estate and living separately from the Young Duke?”

Anne spoke with a voice that sounded as though she had steeled herself for the conversation, accompanied by the slightly stuffy air.

“You can’t keep living under the same roof, breathing the same air, and eating the same meals as the eldest son of the Windmeres, who is practically your sworn enemy, forever, can you? One day, you could receive a separate estate somewhere quiet that you like and start a new life there!”

Celia let out a small laugh.

As her mistress laughed happily, Anne’s steps became lighter too.

I knew my lady would want to hear this!

Celia watched with amusement as Anne practically bounced across the room.

“Perhaps in a year or two…… Should we talk about it again when the time comes?”

Unfortunately, Celia had no intention of fulfilling Anne’s expectations.

Because she had no intention of waiting that long.

Celia swallowed the rest of her words.

Everyone said that Celia and Lucius were maintaining their marriage much better than expected. They chattered that the families had reconciled and that, having grown older, the young gentleman and lady had matured as well.

Without knowing what the two of them actually thought about continuing this marriage.

We’ll be divorced soon anyway.

There isn’t any point making plans for a year or two from now.

They had agreed to divorce after three years of marriage.

It was something no one else knew, and it was also the first promise on which Celia and Lucius had ever agreed.

It’s already been two and a half years since we got married. That means there’s only six months left.

Compared to a lifetime, six months was nothing more than a fleeting moment.

Humming softly, she finally turned another page.

I won’t be living separately from him, but it might be a good idea to think about what I’ll do after the divorce.

Lucius was the man who had steadily built up a bitter history with her since they were five.

A man who stood in perfect opposition to Celia in every way.

The humiliation of being forced to marry him overnight still sometimes kept her awake at night.

But that was all in the past.

Recently, Celia had been living day by day simply for the pleasure of counting down the days that remained.

It’ll be winter by then, won’t it? It’ll be cold, so perhaps I should go somewhere warm in the south.

She wanted to sign the divorce papers as soon as possible.

Lucius had been of no help to her even once, from their first meeting until now.

But she needed him when it came time to sign those divorce papers.

So until then, she could tolerate those ridiculous articles.

She could even tolerate occasionally running into Lucius in the capital.

For the next six months, I think I can put up with absolutely anything.

And barely half a day later, she would have to take those words back.

Damn Lucius Eliah Rowan Windmere.

“The Young Duke has been injured!”

A man lay grotesquely on a stretcher before her eyes.

Blood streamed from Lucius’s body, soaked completely red, falling toward the floor like scattered flower petals.

Six months until the divorce.

An enormous and completely unexpected change had come crashing down upon her.