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    Translated by Tam
    Edited by Briggy


     

    Rumours spread that I had robbed Count Cardell of his paintings. What was it called? The thief who stole the millions of gold worth of paintings. 

     

    I was obviously falsely accused. I mean, how was I supposed to know it was so expensive! I wanted to give it back, but I couldn’t because Sylvester was very satisfied with what I did.

     

    “I can’t believe you brought such a precious thing. You have talent,” he said, feeling the texture of the painting. “If you let it sit for another 10 years, it’ll be worth tens of millions of gold.”

     

    “Why 10 years?”

     

    “The painter has to die.”

     

    “A-ha.”

     

    “The painter is old so he may not live on for more than 10 years,” Sylvester said such cruel things so casually—a child without blood nor tears. I clicked my tongue.

     

    “Stop appreciating it and give it to me, I have to give it back.” I found the letter that was already hidden anyway, so I didn’t need the painting anymore.

     

    However.

     

    “What are you talking about?” Sylvester looked at me with eyes wide open like a curious child. “It’s mine since it came into my mansion. I can’t give it back.”

     

    “No, but— It’s not yours?”

     

    “I have it, so it’s mine. I already touched it, so it’s mine.”

     

    “Oh my God.”

     

    ‘How can you be so childish?’

     

    Ophelia was both surprised and dumbfounded by this new side of him that he was showing. What was wrong with him?

     

    “This painting has made the already bad rumours surrounding me worse. I can’t leave it alone.”

     

    “Since when did you start paying attention to rumours?”

     

    “Since today.”

     

    “I’ll use it starting tomorrow, so forget about the rumours that have spread up till today.”

     

    “What kind of—” 

     

    “What did you say?”

     

    “Nothing,” I sighed, shaking my head—how does one even talk to this person? 

     

    As it seemed that the painting could not be returned, I thought of giving them a present. I quietly turned to Sylvester, who was busy gazing at the painting with eyes full of love and adoration, “Do you know anything about the Countess’s preferences and whatnot? I feel apologetic, so I’m thinking of sending them a present.”

     

    Sylvester peered at me, “Did you eat something wrong?” 

     

    ‘What a natural reaction.’

     

    “It can’t be anything but that.”

     

    If it were the original Ophelia, she would have urged her story to spread more widely instead of caring about some mere rumour, so since I wondered if I could give them something else other than the painting I “stole”, in his eyes, I must have eaten something wrong.

     

    “The salad I ate earlier must have gone bad, maybe that’s why I’m like this.”

     

    “I knew it.”

     

    ‘What do you mean? Are you out of your mind?’ 

     

    My eyes widened in disbelief, “I meant it! I do feel sorry, so I want to send them a gift.”

     

    “If so, it would be a gift not to visit them,” Sylvester continued, “since the Countess is afraid of you.”

     

    “What did I do?”

     

    “Well,” His eyes turned to me, his face devoid of any expression, mirroring my own. 

     

    ‘She didn’t smile at all. Sometimes the corners of her mouth would lift up to reveal a smirk, but that was extremely rare. Always expressionless, always indifferent; so many people found it difficult to interact with her. Beautiful but cold, so I was the only one who treated her comfortably,’ Sylvester thought to himself and buried himself on the sofa.

     

    “There was a saying that you slapped the Countess on the back. Enough to make her cry.”

     

    My eyes grew bigger, “What are you talking about! I’ve never touched her back!”

     

    “I suppose so.”

     

    At Sylvester’s strange reply, I bit my lower lip and stared at him, “You don’t believe me, do you?”

     

    Sylvester shrugged instead of answering.

     

    I was very worked up. “The young ladies there will prove it. I’m innocent!”

     

    P2

     

    “I think the young ladies there were the ones who started the rumours.”

     

    “What?” I took a deep breath, “I didn’t peg them to be the type, but they’re really mean,” I narrowed my brows slightly, upset. At the sight of me, Sylvester spat out a laugh.

     

    “It would be too late to try to change your reputation now. It’s already the worst.”

     

    I was dumbfounded yet again. ‘He’s such a terrible person,’ I thought.

    “How could you say that to your wife?”

     

    “I said it because you deserve it. Think back on what you’ve done so far.”

     

    “…”

     

    I never said anything about my husband, though. Looking at the actions Ophelia has done so far, I decided against it to avoid being executed. “I don’t think there’s anyone on my side,” I muttered, touching my forehead, “You’re also not on my side, are you?”

     

    Sylvester, who was taking out his glasses, suddenly stopped. “Should I say no, or should I say yes?”

     

    “I’d appreciate it if you could just keep your mouth shut.”

     

    “Sure,” he laughed and wore his glasses. A handsome face plus glasses? I immediately felt myself being blinded by the sheer beauty of this man and could barely get back to my senses.

     

    Sylvester looked at the letters on the table with me standing behind him.

     

    One, two, three, after passing a few, he soon handed a letter to Ophelia. “This one is for you.”

     

    “For me?” I lifted her eyebrows and took the letter. “Jasmine?” The envelope had the name Jasmine Smith written on it, but no matter how hard I racked my brain, I couldn’t think of anyone. I tore the envelope in a hurry and read its contents.

     

    [Hello, madam.

    I am sending you a letter for the first time. I apologise if it comes off as rude.]

     

    As if she really was worried, her handwriting was shaky. 

     

    [Yesterday, I was in a very awkward situation since I didn’t talk to anyone. I couldn’t involve myself in the other young ladies’ conversations, so I received some looks from them.]

     

    ‘So you were there too yesterday.’

     

    I couldn’t believe this happened, I had no idea since everyone stops talking as soon as I appear. I continued reading the letter until I noticed a strange word written on it.

     

    [But thanks to the madam’s presence, I was able to get away from my seat, so the Countess couldn’t criticize me]

     

    “Huh?”

     

    [Thank you with all my heart. 

    If you don’t mind, is it okay for me to greet you if we meet again in the future?

    With respect, Jasmine Smith.]

     

    “…” 

     

    I folded the letter with my lips clenched and then I showed a smile of victory to Sylvester. “Look at it, someone’s on my side.”

     

    ******

     

    After showing the letter off to Sylvester, I left the mansion with joy. To meet Callian.

     

    “It’s a good thing there was actually a letter from the Empress behind the painting.” I was worried that there would be nothing, but fortunately, that wasn’t the case. I guess the plot hasn’t deviated too much. “Well, I mean,  I haven’t really done anything yet, so of course it hasn’t changed.” There was, however, no guarantee that it would stay the same, so I quickly decided to follow whatever the heroine did in the story. 

     

    “Next is the nursery.” In the original story, the heroine establishes a nursery school in the slums, a place no one bothered to care about, and surprisingly, one of the children who entered the nursery had the temperament of a Swordmaster. The royal family was delighted when they learned about this and praised the heroine for her work. From then on, the heroine’s position began to solidify—but I was going to snatch it. That way, I would get some brownie points from Callian.

     

    “Madam, we’re here.” Before I even realized it, I arrived at the Imperial Palace. I opened the door to the carriage and stepped out, noticing how huge the palace was. I felt just how majestic the Empire was at the sight of the palace. Palaces from books or videos from the past couldn’t even amount to the one standing before me. There were buildings everywhere and it was full of color.

     

    ‘What a great Empire.’

     

    I followed the guide to the Crown Prince’s palace. However, I came uninvited. Instead, I notified the Crown Prince that I would go to see him an hour ago, so I encountered a bit of an embarrassing situation.

     

    “Your Highness the Crown Prince has denied you access.”

     


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    Tam

    Hello! Honey Why Can't We Get Divorce's advanced chapter is now also available in ko-fi, so you can pick whether to buy it in ko-fi or with diamond to read it. Thank you for your interest, and I hope you like it!

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