I No Longer Have Love to Offer You - Chapter 4

The moment of reunion with Marietta arrived sooner than expected.

Two days after Ricardo announced their divorce, Marietta passed through the gates of the Hylas estate, her belongings packed into two carriages.

Though she had been warned the day before, Mirabelle was shaken. Just forcing a smile so Ricardo and Marietta wouldn’t notice took all her strength.

But perhaps she needn’t have bothered. The two of them were celebrating their reunion as if they had already forgotten Mirabelle existed.

“It’s been a month. You really helped me out with the divorce,” Marietta said with a laugh, and Ricardo returned her smile.

(A month? Helped with the divorce?)

Neither of these things were known to Mirabelle.

In other words, Ricardo must have advised Marietta and assisted with her divorce proceedings from Ludovic.

(So they met without my knowledge.)

That realization dropped like a cold weight in Mirabelle’s chest.

“Mirabel! It’s been so long. How have you been?”

“I’m fine. And you… well, I suppose I should say—”

“Oh, don’t worry about it. Things with Ludovic haven’t been working out for a long time. The divorce was inevitable.”

While Mirabelle hesitated over her words, Marietta brushed it off casually.

Mirabelle was stunned. Could she really speak of it so lightly?

“Both of you, this isn’t the place for such discussions,” Ricardo interjected, nudging the frozen Mirabelle and the indifferent Marietta. “I’ve prepared tea in the parlor. Let’s continue inside.”

He was right, this was the mansion’s entrance. Not the place for private matters under the servants’ watchful eyes.

As Mirabelle glanced ahead, she saw Ricardo naturally escorting Marietta. She followed quietly behind the two as they walked side by side.

The afternoon sun poured generously through the glass window on the landing halfway up the staircase, bathing the foyer in light.

Ricardo’s golden hair gleamed under its rays, and beside him, Marietta’s pink-gold locks seemed to shimmer just as brilliantly.

And what of her own hair?

Mirabelle caught sight of her own reflection in the periphery chestnut-brown strands, far from glamorous.

Now that she thought about it, Ricardo, with his golden hair and deep emerald eyes, and Marietta, with her pink-gold hair and bright garnet gaze, were both striking in their own ways.

Mirabelle’s eyes were a light lilac, true, but overall, her appearance was subdued.

Not that looks were everything.

Still, she couldn’t deny the pang of inadequacy at Marietta’s overwhelming radiance after so long apart.

On top of that, Marietta was expressive, brimming with a charm that effortlessly drew people in.

The old sense of inferiority threatened to resurface, but Mirabelle forcibly pushed it down.

In the parlor, tea had already been set out.

The faint, sweet aroma of Keemun tea wafted through the air likely from the teapot.

(Sister-in-law’s favorite tea… Ah, but she’s not my sister-in-law anymore.)

Marietta had divorced Ludovic, and Mirabelle had parted from Ricardo.

That meant the only bond between them now was their childhood friendship.

An afternoon tea stand sat on the table, complete with sandwiches, scones served with jam and clotted cream, and an assortment of sweets.

Two-seater sofas flanked the table, with single-seaters positioned at the head, the birthday seats.

Guided by Ricardo, Marietta took her place on one of the two-seaters. Ricardo settled beside her as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Unable to find words, Mirabelle seated herself opposite them.

“Mirabel, how long has it been since we last saw each other?”

As the hostess, Mirabelle poured tea into Marietta’s cup.

Normally, the servants would handle such preparations, but Ricardo had insisted on keeping the parlor empty.

“The last time was at your fifth wedding anniversary with Brother Ludovic… so about six months ago?”

“Oh, come now. I’m not your sister-in-law anymore. Just call me by name, like before.”

Mentioning the celebration of Marietta’s now-defunct marriage seemed to darken Ricardo’s expression.

Divorce among nobles was rarely simple.

In Mirabelle and Ricardo’s case, she had signed the papers without protest, so the process had been quick. But usually, matters like asset division and child custody dragged things out.

Ludovic and Marietta had no children, but the two carriages’ worth of belongings Marietta had brought suggested their divorce had taken time.

(Perhaps negotiations had already begun six months ago.)

Even so, noble couples maintained appearances until the very end. Their anniversary celebration must have gone on as usual.

“Speaking of which, I heard you two divorced as well. I felt bad about imposing on Ricardo with you still here, but he assured me it wasn’t an issue anymore.”

“Is that so…?”

(We divorced just two days ago. And only because I accepted all of Ricardo’s terms without argument.)

Mirabelle wasn’t sure how much Marietta knew, but Ricardo had clearly framed things to his advantage.

A glance at him revealed a slightly guilty expression.

For a moment, Mirabelle wanted to say something but what would it change? The thought drained her of the will to speak.

“Marietta, as I mentioned before, my marriage to Mirabelle was to spare her from an unwanted political match. So, in other words it was a white marriage.”

At her husband’s—no, former husband’s words, Mirabelle’s eyes widened.

Why would he bring up something so private here and now?

And just like that, his words dragged her back to the despair of her wedding night.