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Chapter 09 …
“…That’s not it. I was fine. Even if you didn’t help me, it wouldn’t have mattered.”
“Let’s see. I don’t like the idea of our child being treated like that for even a moment.”
Ah. So he stepped in… for the child, not for me.
What was I even expecting?
Christine felt her pounding heart calm down, replaced by a dry emptiness spreading through her chest.
“I suppose so.”
At her slightly sarcastic reply, Seimon’s dark eyebrows furrowed.
“Why are you answering like that?”
“What’s wrong with my answer?”
Christine replied casually, and Seimon narrowed his eyes, silently staring at her.
Uncomfortable under her ex-husband’s gaze, Christine turned her head toward the car window.
Why do I feel so bad?
Even she couldn’t understand why she was acting so emotional toward Seimon.
An awkward silence stretched between them.
As she took a deep breath, the scent of flowers filled her lungs, and Christine looked down at the bouquet.
It was a bouquet made of only the most expensive and rare flowers.
Beautiful. That much hadn’t changed.
“We’re going to dinner. We’ll talk properly there.”
“…Yes. Let’s do that.”
At Seimon’s sudden words, Christine nodded obediently. He was probably going to talk about what they couldn’t finish yesterday.
About his death and the child.
The neatly written will Seimon had left, disturbingly detailed yet oddly considerate, came to mind, and her chest felt heavy.
‘I hate him. Remember that, Christine.’
But…
‘Then why did he still bring flowers…’
Her resolve began to waver.
Christine tried not to breathe in the scent of the bouquet he had given her.
Seimon took Christine to one of the most luxurious restaurants in the capital of the Rojas Republic.
The massive building was designed in the shape of an ancient temple.
“…This brings back memories.”
The banquet hall in the Chester Republic had been similar. Christine recalled what had happened there in the past.
It had been about a month after her contract marriage with Seimon.
She had attended a birthday party of one of the three major committee members of the Republican Party.
As someone from royalty appearing among Republican officials, Christine had naturally drawn attention.
She felt nauseous.
Her older brother had been shot and killed in a crowd—right in front of her eyes.
It had been an assassination carried out by a Republican Party member.
Since then, crowds had become a trauma for her. And now she was surrounded by them again.
Seimon Dayrte had been busy with political and business contacts. He had stayed with her at first, but eventually left her side.
Left alone, she had been approached by Princess Aerin.
And Aerin had openly provoked her.
—“Do you feel good stealing my place? Representative Dayrte was supposed to be engaged to me!”
—“…I didn’t choose this marriage. Everyone knows it was a contract marriage.”
—“But he was mine.”
—“People cannot be owned.”
—“Don’t lecture me! Do you still think you’re some noble princess?”
—“No. But I believe in speaking the truth.”
—“How arrogant. You’ll be discarded in three years and treated like trash. Do you think the Republic will keep its promise? You foolish princess.”
Christine felt her heart freeze.
Her deepest fears, the ones she always suppressed, were spoken aloud—and suddenly they became real.
Her hands trembled violently.
“Stop it, Princess Aerin.”
And then—
Seimon appeared.
He draped his jacket over Christine’s trembling shoulders and spoke coldly to Aerin.
She hadn’t even noticed when he arrived. His warmth wrapped around her like a shield, melting her fear.
Ignoring Aerin’s desperate voice, Seimon took Christine to a lounge and told her to rest there before leaving.
In the quiet room, Christine could finally breathe.
The man she hated… sometimes comforted her like this.
“Why are you spacing out like that?”
Seimon’s voice pulled her back to the present.
Christine, holding the menu, casually replied while pretending to browse.
“I was just thinking about what the baby might want to eat.”
Seimon tapped the table lightly with his fingers.
“Just order everything. The baby inside you can’t speak, so it can’t give opinions.”
He said it completely seriously.
“…Ha.”
Christine let out a short laugh despite herself.
“Ordering everything? That’s wasteful. And I know better what my child likes, so don’t worry.”
After speaking, she continued looking at the menu—but then she felt a gaze and looked up.
“!!!”
Their eyes met.
It was a piercing stare that seemed to drill straight into her heart.
Seimon had been looking at her like that more often lately.
‘What is wrong with him…’
Maybe it was because he knew he was dying?
Thinking about discussing his illness today made Christine’s chest feel heavier.
Seimon, suffering unbearable pain… and his will—those thoughts kept overlapping.
“Why are you staring at me like that?”
Seimon paused briefly, then replied in a flat tone.
“I’m envious.”
“…Of what?”
“You know what the child likes. I don’t.”
“……”
“If I knew, I’d order everything you want.”
His expression remained calm, but his fingers tapping the menu betrayed a faint tremor.
Christine tightened her grip on the menu without realizing it.
‘…Again.’
This man always pretended to be indifferent while being kind.
Before their divorce, when Christine used to quietly observe him from afar, he had always been like this.
He would hesitate when feeding hunting dogs, then smile faintly after they began eating.
He would stop when he accidentally stepped on a wildflower, sighing softly.
He would stare at clouds absentmindedly, then quickly return to a cold expression when someone spoke to him.
A man who was hard to understand—cold yet strangely gentle.
Every time she looked at him like that, her heart would beat uncontrollably.
Seimon Dayrte was known across politics, business, and society as a ruthless, heartless man…
But moments like this kept shaking Christine.
She bit her lip lightly and ordered.
“I’ll have the veal steak. And the shrimp cheese grill.”
“Same. And assorted grilled fruit.”
“Yes.”
After the waiter left, Seimon took a sip of wine already poured into his glass.
Christine watched him and spoke.
“You said you’re sick. Drinking will make it worse.”
“My headache has nothing to do with alcohol.”
His firm tone irritated her, but she chose not to argue.
“It doesn’t matter. Do whatever you want.”
Christine took a deep breath and clenched her hands in her lap.
After a moment of hesitation, she looked at him seriously.
“Can I ask now? About your headaches, and this idea that you’re terminally ill. What exactly is going on? If you lie even a little, I’ll make sure I disappear somewhere you can never find me. I mean it.”
Her voice trembled at the end of the threat.
“Hm.”
Seimon slowly rotated his wine glass, thinking deeply, then looked up. His golden eyes flickered.
“Run away, huh…”
He set the glass down and smirked slightly.
“Scary.”
Whether it was sincerity or not was impossible to tell.
He leaned back, crossing his long legs, and folded his arms.
“Unfortunately, I’m also curious about you.”
“Seimon.”
“So let’s take turns asking questions.”
“…Do we really have to do this?”
Christine sighed, exhausted, but Seimon only shrugged.
“It’s only fair.”
“….”
She no longer had the energy to argue.
So she nodded lightly.
Seimon leaned forward, resting his elbow on the table.
“I’ll start. Christine, how did you get to the Rojas Republic?”
Christine looked at him and shrugged.
“With help from your Grace of the Dayrte family. Didn’t you already know?”
“Only your father? I thought you also had help from Duke Edditon.”
Duke Edditon.
At the mention, Seimon’s golden eyes turned sharp.
“What?”
Christine blinked slowly, then frowned.
“Duke Rihard Edditon? Why would his name come up?”
“A key Royalist member. And your close friend. No—someone who admires you deeply, even loves you.”
Seimon’s voice turned colder.
Christine shook her head firmly.
“He has nothing to do with me. I came here purely with your Grace’s help.”
“Is that so? We’ll see after I investigate further.”
Seimon replied calmly and took another sip of wine. But his gaze toward Christine had turned icy.
Whenever Duke Edditon’s name came up, an unfamiliar jealousy rose in his chest.
Even he found it ridiculous.
He knew how petty it was to interrogate his ex-wife’s past like this…
Yet his emotions wouldn’t listen.
“Is it really that important that you investigate it thoroughly?”
“Of course. To me, it is.”
His voice lowered further.
Seimon sighed and drank again.
But something inside him tightened.
With every breath, emotions he couldn’t identify—anger, jealousy, regret—twisted in his chest.
“My turn now.”
“Go ahead.”
“How is it? What illness do you have?”
“A few months ago I found out. Brain tumor, they said.”
Seimon spoke so calmly it sounded like someone else’s story.
At that moment, Christine’s world froze.
The blood drained from her face, leaving her pale as paper.
“…What?”
She prayed she had misheard.
Maybe he had said “cold.”
Anything but that.
But Seimon’s golden eyes remained steady, fixed on her without a single tremor.
