My Vengeful Former Lover - Chapter 121

How dare a person who’s never been to a temple speak of the gods?!

Just as the holy sanctuary did not welcome his illegitimacy, he also seemed to have no faith in the gods. Because of this status, it is believed that the deities above would not love him.

Still, he said that his marriage to her was the gods’ reward. Everyone who heard just might laugh at him.

“I’ve had no one in my heart but her for the longest time.”

And then there was anger.

The next morning, Deatrice suddenly went outside wearing only a thick robe.

Lucius called her name, but she ignored him. Rosalynn hurriedly chased after her as she gathered the lady’s toiletries, ignoring all the guards who called her when she went out of the garden.

The fog still hasn’t lifted yet as she trod on grass and mud. Because her robe wasn’t tied properly, Deatrice’s every stride revealed her thighs.

“M’lady!”

Her maid’s shouts fell on deaf ears. With her current temper, she just wanted to ignore everything. Words filled with lies and deceit just so he could fulfill his desires—how could he say such things in the name of the gods?

But her fury immediately dissipated the very moment she realized she had entered the forest. Stopping her tracks, she stood in sorrow and confusion.

She didn’t understand. Didn’t he remember how she rejected him? How she and her father insulted him which led to his six-year struggle on the battlefield? He might’ve even used his anger against them to persevere.

After they married, she thought it might be possible to use that anger for her own benefit. The kind of rage that lingered within him for a long time.

Perhaps it would be better to call it ‘desire’, since that would make more sense.

Their past was brief but significantly substantial. Now that they are married, they sometimes confuse things with the past because lust comes and goes as it likes.

But if this wasn’t only about him coveting her body, if it’s really only been her in his heart after all this time, then perhaps his heart contained more than just lust.

Maybe because of guilt or disgust, Deatrice felt herself getting nauseous, so she leaned against a tree. The strong scent from the trees calmed her.

As she waited for herself to calm down, a faint shadow fell beside her.

Deatrice felt her soul pounding like waves at that moment. She called out what she thought the shadow’s name was just before she completely fell.

“Lucius.”

“…”

But it wasn’t Lucius who supported her as she stumbled. A bewildered young man, Akins, was there blushing as he held her. Deatrice stood upright with a precarious look and gesture on the verge of breaking. She raised her hands as if her head was hurting, but in reality, it was to cover her face.

“It’s raining, m’lady. You should go back.” Atkins spoke, but Deatrice didn’t say a word. Atkins looked at her red velvet robes, darkened by the rain, then at her pale white hands covering her half-exposed face.

The raindrops were getting heavier, but Atkins couldn’t urge her to move. It was because he had witnessed her expression collapse while she called out her husband’s name. Exactly what was going on was not known, but Atkins noticed that Deatrice was barely holding onto something.

“M’lady.”

Maybe that’s why he started talking, to ask about what she’s holding onto these days.

“Today is my last day at the manor. The commander has ordered me to return to the Knights Templar. Maybe I should go back and train with the knights who came with Count Wilton.”

It was a bit unbecoming to catch up with the lady of the manor who suddenly ran away and came to the forest.

“Actually, I wanted to give you a horse before I leave. I know someone who has some pretty good ones. He took me in for a while before the war broke out and promised to give me one of whatever he had if I returned alive. So,” Atkins kept on talking as if he was possessed by something. “with that thought in mind, I sent a letter a while ago. But he said that he was seriously injured by a band of thieves on the way to Alhen with his wife. Instead, he said he would give me the pony the horse gave birth to.”

The sky grew even darker, and Atkins’s hair became sopping wet. Looking at his lady, who still did not move amidst the rain. Atkins continued to speak. He’s probably spoken more today than any other day in his life.

“Not long ago, I went to check it out myself. He had gentle but strong legs and bright eyes, so I agreed. But I knew that I had to tell you first because it would be unusual for a knight to gift the mistress a horse out of nowhere. But regardless of your answer, I’d give it to you anyway. It’s just a pony…”

At that moment, Deatrice lowered the hand that was covering her face. The knight, drenched in the rain, was looking up at her with a pure gaze. Her mind wasn’t in the present so his words didn’t make sense. For a moment, Deatrice was confused as to why he was suddenly talking about a pony.

She didn’t say anything, but Deatrice’s befuddled state seemed to have registered in Atkins’ mind right away.

“Oh.” He smiled lightly and didn’t explain any further, but apparently she had forgotten.

“Last time, you told me you wanted to ride a horse. But horses are very ferocious, so I thought you might get hurt…”

“So you’ll give me a pony instead?”

“Yes.”

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