There’s No Divorce For You - Chapter 2

The Countess’ name was Carla. But, unfortunately, she was as pitiful as her pretty name.

She got married because she thought it was a love marriage, but it wasn’t. She fell for the Count’s lies.

He evaluated and calculated which of the women would be the best, and he then seduced one of them, and it was Carla.

‘Even if you’re blinded by love, you shouldn’t be naive enough to give up your succession… you’re stupid.’

I swallowed the curse on Carla inside.

It was not what I read in the book. It wasn’t even someone who told me. This was all in Carla’s diary.

Soon after I was possessed, I kept looking in every area of the room for clues about this place.   I couldn’t easily accept that the world had changed. It makes more sense to think that it is not the world that has changed but myself. But the scenery in front of me kept shaking me.

I searched all over the room but couldn’t find any special clues to help me understand this situation. If I hadn’t found the broken marble while groping on the bed floor, I wouldn’t have thought I was still in the book.

Under the thin marble, Carla had put the evidence she had found of her husband’s affair and a diary that was stained with her tears.

I read them down little by little without the maids’ knowledge each time.

“Crazy, it’s crazy.”

Didn’t I say ‘crazy’ like 500 times?

Carla was the perfect woman to say that her life was thrown into the mud because she couldn’t change it.

She was almost isolated from her parents because of the marriage, and she couldn’t bring her nanny with her.

She used to be a maid of honor for the king, but she had no one to lean on because she had cut ties with friends who opposed her marriage.

She was a complete loner.

If there were no people, there had to be money, but everything Carla brought with her through marriage was used for the Count’s business, so she didn’t have a single penny.

She even gave back to the Count the money that is given to the hostess every year to help her keep her dignity.

She was a woman with nothing but unhappiness. No, she also had vain hopes.

At the end of Carla’s diary, there was a sentence like this.

[Will he love me someday?] 

It couldn’t be. If he had been the man who would love her someday, he wouldn’t have played with other women, even after they got married.

Count Icarus was a ruthless bastard. Carla was just a tool to improve his fortune.

‘Does love feed you?’

Right, they feed us.  One example is the man who was brought into the business with Carla’s dowry.

But I had no intention of feeding someone I didn’t even love. Screw him.

[I hate him, and if I could get my hands and sword covered with his blood!! I have neither a tongue to accuse him of his immorality nor a hand to stab him.]

The writing on the last page of the diary seemed to be asking for revenge whenever I saw it.  Poor Carla, who couldn’t blame her husband while collecting evidence with tears, is no longer there. There was only someone else at the end of the story.

Could there be any comfort in poor Carla’s life? If the Count becomes unhappy, even if not as much as she is, wouldn’t that be the price I pay for using her body?

First of all, I decided to pay for the bed sheet. At the very least, I thought about getting back what Carla had written down on her list of wedding expenses.

‘The Count even gave an excuse.’

Fortunately, the Count didn’t refuse the invitation to have breakfast together. Considering that the Count and Carla might see each other once a week, it wasn’t a bad start.

If Carla had known this, she must have been very happy.

“Oh, it’s pretty luxurious today. It looks like the chef has shown his skills.”

I was amazed by how many dishes were on the table.

There was a carrot soup, a salad made of half-boiled eggs and bacon, various vegetables, and a small grilled bird.

Judging from the size of the grilled bird, it looked like a quail or a similar kind.

It was a luxurious morning that I could swallow my saliva without realizing it. Perhaps, is the Count feeling sorry too?

“I heard that you often see an illusion, so I prepared it with food that is good for the eyes.”

The Count twitched his lips. I didn’t understand what he was saying, so I blinked, and he opened his mouth again.

“You called a servant yesterday because you thought someone was in your room.”

Only then did I understand what he was talking about.

He thought everything I had seen the day before had been for nothing.

Oh my, I have never seen such a bastard. Instead of asking me to forgive him, he started a fight—he should have a good brain, at least to have such a bad personality. The Count must have had flaws on both sides.

“Oh my, what do you mean illusion? There was a wild cat.”

I grabbed a spoon and started eating the soup because my brain won’t work if I was hungry.

I pretended to wipe my mouth with a napkin, hiding a mean smile on my face.

“I was surprised to find a dirty beast on my bed, so I called my servant. You know I have a weak body, right? How surprised would I have been to have such a filthy thing on my bed?”

Then he acts like he doesn’t know anything when I repeatedly talk about what happened yesterday because people tend to get angry at being sarcastic rather than swearing openly.

As if my attitude wasn’t what he was expecting, veins popped out of the back of the Count’s tightly closed fist.

However, I didn’t get angry openly in the presence of my servants.

Did he think it’s important? I raised the corners of my mouth and smiled sarcastically.

“Really, how did they get in?”

The Count didn’t immediately respond to my words. Instead, he nodded his head after barely making a sound.

“A, about that.“

I looked away from him and pretended to cut the meat of the grilled bird on the plate.

He was the one who started a fight because he was a little sarcastic. I wish Carla could see how he looks now.

I desperately suppressed what I wanted to hum lightly.

“Phew, you don’t know how upset I am that the bed sheets are dirty. I recently changed them with a new one.”

The dining room was quiet.  The only sound that could be heard was the occasional clink of dishes.

Even the servants in the audience seemed to be paying attention.

I wasn’t angry, but I knew how to act angry when others saw me.

Fortunately, Carla’s face was less expressive, making it appear more so.

The Count rolled his eyes as if to try to calm me down.

“Count.”

When I called his name, the Count looked at me with a startled expression.

How can he look so ugly? I swallowed my true intention, smiled broadly and continued.

“It’s our wedding anniversary soon, isn’t it?”

The wedding anniversary is too far away to say it’s coming up soon, but I dared to bring it up as an excuse.

The Count enjoyed a trip with his lover on their wedding anniversary last year. Carla had found two train tickets as evidence of his affair, which showed how far he had gone from the capital. On the barely crumpled train ticket, the names of Count Icarus and a woman were written.

After returning from a trip, the Count gave Carla a necklace made of low-quality ruby as a gift for their wedding anniversary.

The fact that the diamond necklace was written on the included receipt made Carla even more desperate.

I’m sure it’s stuck in his mistress’s neck. Of course, it wasn’t something I received, and it wasn’t something I bought with my own money, but I couldn’t help but feel hurt.

‘Poor woman.’

Carla was pitiful. Even though I was possessed for two months, I couldn’t get used to being treated like her. Sometimes I felt suffocated.

“I heard it’s a trend to give mines as gifts in the capital these days.”

I spoke very directly.

.

I want to get a trendy gift in the capital city, but a man who seems to have his brain in his legs might give me something ridiculous.

“I want to get a diamond mine this wedding anniversary. It’s romantic.”

The Count had a diamond mine. It was on Carla’s dowry list, so he’ll still probably have it.

Since it was a small mine, it wasn’t a big asset, so it wasn’t a bad thing to give or get on a wedding anniversary.

I looked at him as I carefully used a fork to the nearly torn meat and put it in my mouth.

The Count thought for a moment, then he nodded his head as if he was dying.

He seemed to think it would be cheaper to turn over a small diamond mine than to turn my eyes inside out and rip his mistress’s hair out.

“Aside from that, do you want anything more?”

He can give the mine to his wife without any trouble, but he can’t give it to his mistress because of that.

And he’ll undoubtedly struggle to satisfy the wretched mistress for a while. Is there anything more fun than that? I might be unable to straighten my back from laughing if the Count even had a fingernail mark on his cheek.

I shook my head. Then, as if something suddenly came to mind, I added.

“The butler’s salary is cut by two months. He neglected to manage the keys.”

The Count didn’t say anything. The grilled bird was delicious, but there were too many small bones.