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Chapter 25
“…Would that even count as repayment?”
Scarlet avoided his gaze and continued speaking.
“I’ve heard people say things like that. That you don’t divorce me because I treat you well in bed. But you, in reality……”
“Who said that nonsense?”
“At a party.”
“Who.”
Victor’s low voice pressed her, and Scarlet genuinely thought for a moment before answering.
“Prince Thebes, I think.”
“Ah. So it’s that lowborn idiot level of talk.”
“He’s your cousin, isn’t he?”
“Barely. Worse than a stranger.”
Victor replied casually and looked down at her.
“So you believed that?”
From this close, his cologne smelled incredibly good.
She didn’t understand it. He was such a heavy smoker—so why did he smell like this?
To block him as he kept leaning closer, Scarlet pressed both hands against his chest and said,
“It was still better than saying you’re just living with me because it’s annoying.”
At her words, Victor frowned.
“And who said that?”
“Everyone else.”
At that, Victor let out a disbelieving sound.
Scarlet continued.
“I liked those kinds of explanations.”
“What?”
Lowering her head, she muttered,
“If there’s even a reason like that, it feels better. It’s fine if you stay because it’s annoying, even better if it’s because of sleeping together……”
“……”
“At least then, there’s something you need from me.”
She lifted her head.
“So? Was there at least one of those reasons? Why you stayed married to me?”
“Both.”
“Both…?”
“Too lazy to find someone else, and sleeping with you was enjoyable.”
“……”
“And it was convenient that you loved me.”
Scarlet stared at him, stunned into silence. Then she clenched her fist and struck his shoulder hard.
She hit him with enough force that she could barely support herself, but Victor didn’t even flinch. He simply avoided direct hits to his face while taking the rest without stepping back.
After about two minutes, Scarlet’s strength gave out. She swayed, barely able to stand.
Leaning against the glass door, she gasped for breath.
Victor stood in front of her, straightening his crooked tie as if nothing had happened.
“Done?”
“……”
When she glared at him, the corner of his mouth lifted.
“You’re really cruel.”
Scarlet muttered in a tired voice.
Then Victor’s hand reached out.
Startled, she squeezed her eyes shut—but instead of pain, his long fingers slipped gently through her hair.
The Scarlet Victor knew would tremble and lean into his touch whenever he stroked her scalp like that.
But now, she looked like she couldn’t stand it at all.
Victor simply watched her.
He bent down and kissed the back of her hand, which she had raised defensively to her chest.
Scarlet closed her eyes tightly.
When she opened them again, Victor tilted his head slightly and met her gaze.
“Enough. Go sleep. If it wasn’t enough, I’ll let you hit me again next time.”
Then he picked her up lightly.
He laid her on the bed as her body trembled slightly, then left the room at a relaxed pace.
Left alone, Scarlet rubbed the back of her hand against her nightdress skirt until it turned red. Then she scrubbed her lips as well, as if trying to erase something.
She was afraid Victor Dümfelt might still be left somewhere on her body.
* * *
She hadn’t wanted to sleep in this house, but she had no strength left to leave, so she fell asleep there anyway.
It was late morning; the sun had long risen.
Still too weak to move properly, she rang the bell. Soon, Candice, one of the maids who had served her, entered.
“Yes, my lady. Shall I bring breakfast?”
“Where is Victor?”
“He has gone to work.”
“Then I’ll eat.”
Candice smiled faintly at her answer.
Shortly after, she brought breakfast on a silver tray: croissants in a basket, her favorite lemon butter cream, cherry danishes, and fresh milk.
Scarlet looked at the tray and remembered herself from the early days of her marriage.
The cherry danishes here had been so delicious she used to secretly save them to take to her brother.
Most of her duties as Victor Dümfelt’s wife were social events and parties. Aside from that, all she did was buy things.
Victor usually wore whatever Blight prepared for him and rarely complained. Even when Scarlet carefully selected flamboyant suits in her own taste, he wore them without objection.
Now that she thought about it, it had been a life many would envy—if she hadn’t loved him and had no expectations of him.
Scarlet tore into a favorite danish and ate it.
Candice, watching her, spoke carefully.
“Do you remember Polly, my lady?”
“Of course. I even fixed her watch. Cherry danishes are the best.”
Candice smiled warmly.
“Polly baked all the bread again today. She’s proud of her cherry danishes, but she gets sad because the young master doesn’t eat them.”
“Why not? They’re this good.”
“We don’t understand either. When you used to tell her to bake more, we’d all eat them together. Polly’s danishes are the best.”
“Definitely. And eating together was fun.”
“Yes… those times were really fun……”
Candice, now opened up, began talking about what had happened among the staff while Scarlet had been away.
At that moment, the door opened cautiously.
Scarlet turned—and saw Andrei.
“Andrei?”
The maids greeted him warmly. He had once worked at the Dümfelt household too.
Scarlet stood up.
“How did you get here?”
“What do you mean? You know why I’m here.”
“To make me work?”
“If you can’t come, just say so. I’ll close things down. But you look like you’ve recovered.”
“I’m going. I’m going.”
Before he could lecture her, Scarlet stood.
She staggered, and Andrei immediately offered his arm. She grabbed it and walked.
“You should rest at home. You need to succeed.”
“So now I suddenly need success……”
“You do. You need ambition.”
“Give it up.”
“Just wait—you’ll wake up one day and find yourself running a huge company.”
He really was a difficult employee.
Scarlet still didn’t understand why she had asked him to come with her. It had just felt like the right thing at the moment.
As they left the Dümfelt estate, the maids called after her.
“Aren’t you going to say goodbye to the young master?”
“He’s not the kind of person who cares about that.”
Scarlet grabbed the handle of the large leather suitcase the maids had packed for her—but she couldn’t even lift it.
In the end, Andrei lifted it with one hand.
“Just give it to me from the start.”
“You should at least try.”
“You’re wasting time.”
“I don’t think trying is a waste of time.”
“…That’s why we keep you as our boss.”
Scarlet laughed at his rare admission.
Given her life among blacksmiths and naval families, she didn’t find it strange that Andrei could lift something she couldn’t budge like it was nothing.
But the maids watching them spoke nervously.
“Is Andrei always that strong?”
“Right? It normally takes two people……”
“How can he lift that with one hand?”
The luggage had actually been tampered with by the butler so Scarlet couldn’t carry it herself or leave easily—Victor would clearly be displeased if she left too quickly.
But Andrei effortlessly carried it toward the tram station.
