TCMGF 57

Chapter 57

The hesitation didn’t last long. I firmly made up my mind and ate the cicchetti he offered me—careful not to let my lips brush against his fingers.

It tastes good, but…

My craving for food overpowered my embarrassment, but even so, the whole situation felt mortifying. And yet, he took it a step further.

“Is there nothing else you’d like to eat?”

He sounded as if he intended to feed me everything himself. I quickly picked up some finger food within my reach and put it in my mouth.

“I’m fine. There’s no need for that.”

Maybe my tone came out sharper than I intended, because Ezekiel asked with concern:

“…Did I make you uncomfortable?”

“No, that’s not it.”

Because I couldn’t answer properly, he tilted his head slightly, pretending to be disappointed. With that cold face of his, it was his own kind of playful act, shown only to me.

“Forgive me for making you uncomfortable, Lady Viola Vetra, who is counting down the days until our divorce.”

I found myself repeating a thought I’d had before: That’s the kind of lighthearted joke only people with an inevitable end can make. Half-serious, half in jest.

So I gave back an equally light reply, matching the weight of his teasing words.

“Of course. My head is full of nothing but plans to divorce and remarry.”

Ezekiel’s eyes widened, and he straightened his posture.

“I didn’t realize you were so eager to remarry.”

“Well, since there’s no real love between us, it wouldn’t be strange if I met someone else right away, would it?”

There was a trace of bitterness in the smile of my contract husband. Maybe I went too far. So, I corrected myself honestly.

“Tsk. Truthfully, I don’t have any plans to remarry at all. If I don’t find someone who really suits me, I’d rather just live alone. I think that would be more comfortable.”

For the first time, in front of him, I spoke about what my life might look like after this contract marriage ended. Ezekiel seemed to realize it too and just listened quietly.

“If you’re worried about scandals in society, don’t be. I’ll respect a grace period until the fuss over our divorce dies down.”

It was a promise not to cause any rumors with anyone else for at least a year. I thought that should be answer enough, but then he suddenly said:

“That’s not the answer I wanted.”

“Then what?”

“I want to know what you’re truly thinking.”

He stared into my eyes.

“What kind of feelings you hold for me—that’s what I want to know.”

Feelings, huh. There was no way for him to know unless I told him. And if those feelings weren’t reciprocated, then saying them out loud would only hurt me.

“I do have them. But that’s a secret.”

I smiled mischievously.

“Go ahead and try to guess.”

Ezekiel clicked his tongue as though I were hopeless. Seeing him look so downcast actually cheered me up.

Neither of us knew what would happen once this contract ended. That afternoon, Ezekiel had only teased me lightly, and I responded by offering him just a fragment of my true feelings. That was all. And with that, our lighthearted cicchetti tea time came to an end.

That night, in the early hours of dawn, a dark figure stood in the already dim bedroom.

I stirred at the presence and woke up, shocked.

“Who’s there!”

The shadowy figure fumbled and dropped what it was holding. Something heavy, like a book, fell to the floor. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I finally saw what it was.

A white cover with brown trim. Even in the dark, I could recognize it instantly. I had cherished and written in it for years.

My diary?

What kind of intruder sneaks into someone’s room at dawn just to read their diary?!

Could it be to gather information?

My heart pounded wildly. Could it be an imperial spy again, like with Philipos Eustis? I was about to pull the bell cord when the figure stepped forward and stopped me.

“Wait. Viola. Please, wait!”

Only then did I realize the figure was Ezekiel. Which meant—he had been reading my diary.

Why?

At first, I was simply stunned. My mind went blank. And then the anger came rushing in.

I remembered what he had said earlier, and the pieces fit together.

He wanted to know what I was truly thinking…

This man had a history. At the start, he’d planted informants to watch me. I let it go back then, assuming it was because he didn’t trust me and because he needed to protect young Michele.

But this is different…!

My voice came out sharp.

“That belongs to me.”

Half my voice caught in my throat as I sprang up, snatched the diary from the floor, and held it tightly. The edge crumpled from how roughly I grabbed it.

“It’s my diary. You have no right to read it.”

That old diary contained all the sorrow and anger I didn’t want him to see—sadness I wanted hidden, resentment toward my family. In a situation where even showing him only my good side wasn’t enough, he had dared to glimpse my raw, negative emotions.

This man had treated my secrets as if they were nothing. If his actions had truly come from his heart, it was unforgivable.

Ezekiel’s face was etched with unfamiliar confusion.

“I… I was—”

“Did you read it?”

That diary even had lines plainly stating how disappointed I felt in my husband. The shame didn’t matter—what boiled inside me was fury.

“Did you read it?”

“No.”

Somehow, I could believe he wasn’t lying, and I felt a small relief before shaking my head. How could I trust someone who had already tried to peek at my diary?

How had he even known I wrote a diary, and that this was it?

“Am I still someone you can’t trust? Someone you need to keep under surveillance?”

My chest felt suffocated, stuffed full of negative thoughts. I felt sick. His intentions were skewed, and the hurt was overwhelming.

Is this what they mean when they say your heart aches?

My thoughts spun out of control, and suddenly tears fell. I had held them back all this time, but now I couldn’t anymore. I didn’t even bother wiping them; I just let them pour.

Ezekiel stood frozen like a statue. His fingers twitched a few times, but he said nothing, only looked at me, stunned. Finally, he managed to speak.

“You seemed to be having a nightmare, so I came in to check on you. My night vision is poor, and I bumped into the desk. That’s how your diary fell.”

I stared at him. He met my gaze squarely, as if to prove his innocence. It didn’t feel like a lie. He continued.

“Still, the fault is mine. My past actions must have made it hard for you to trust me.”

I wiped my tears, forcing them to stop.

“But—”

“Don’t worry about it. I know it looked bad.”

Ezekiel gave an awkward smile. Suddenly, I felt drained.

So, this was another misunderstanding. Again. Always, these endless, exhausting misunderstandings.

I hated it. Why did things between us always turn out this way? Either running parallel or completely missing each other. If it was going to be like this, maybe it was better not to continue at all.

I couldn’t even bring myself to say “I’m sorry for misunderstanding.” I didn’t want to use the word “misunderstanding” anymore.

Through clenched teeth, I spat out the only words I could manage—an order to leave.

“I get it, so just go.”

I pulled the blanket over my head, trying to stifle my sobs. My heart felt torn to shreds, unbearably raw. Bitterness rose in my throat.

“I know it’s not your fault. But it’s late—go back to your own room.”

When only sharp words come out, it’s better to keep distance. I needed time to calm the turmoil inside me.

I heard the sound of him opening the door and leaving. I stayed buried under the covers and never looked back.

“Madam, aren’t you going to have breakfast?”

“I guess I ate too much cicchetti yesterday. I’ll be fine.”

Even after waking up, my mood hadn’t improved. Avoiding him out of awkwardness, I stayed in my room. That only made the maid scold me.

“I’ll bring the meal to your room then!”

Matilda, the youngest maid who had replaced Anna, soon came in carrying simple bread, jam, and coffee.

“And this is a special dessert I prepared just for you.”

On the plate she held were slices of apple.

…Very badly cut slices of apple.

Who on earth cut them like that?