We Will Get Divorced: The Perfect Divorce Plan of the Sacrificial Daughter and the Cold-Blooded Soldier - Chapter 11

“Good morning, my lord.”

I had intended to enter the dining room early so as not to keep my lord waiting, but Julian was already seated at the table.

My eyes were drawn to him involuntarily. It might be a strange way to put it, but Julian suited the morning sun. His attire this morning was a plain white shirt without any adornment and leather bottoms—a simple outfit that highlighted the quality of the materials.

“What is it? Why are you staring so intently?”

“My apologies. I’m a little nervous.”

“…I see.”

Julian reached for his glass of water, his elegant brows slightly furrowed.

Perhaps I had stared a bit too long. I needed to be careful—if I offended my lord and he reduced my compensation, it would be unbearable.

Don’t forget, he hates women. Remember his words from yesterday.

“I don’t even want to touch such a plain, unsophisticated woman, nor do I want to look at her face.”

“Because of my father’s orders, I have no choice but to live under the same roof, but it makes me sick to my stomach every day.”

…Thinking back calmly, it feels like he might have gone a bit too far.

More importantly, was he really vomiting every day?

“What is it?”

“Nothing at all.”

There were mountains of things I wanted to say, but nothing I should say.

Really, it’s just like life to have such a beautiful man hate women. Born into a ducal family and with looks like that, he could easily marry into royalty. No, his beauty isn’t just in his appearance. Even the way he breaks his bread is as divine as watching a sacred ritual, and his lips, moistened with cider, are distractingly alluring.

…By the way, am I allowed to eat too? The meal had started smoothly without any greetings or prayers.

Julian didn’t seem to favor extravagance; the table was set with a modest menu for a duke. Quite different from my father, who guzzles expensive wine from morning.

“Let’s eat.”

Saying this out of courtesy, I reached for the bread.

“…”

Julian’s blue eyes captured me. Eyes like the deep sea—if you stared into them, your very heart felt drawn into that azure—ah, no good. I’m getting captivated again.

“Um, my lord.”

“What is it?”

“If you glare at me like that, it’s hard to eat. I doubt my face is interesting to look at.”

And it probably makes you want to vomit.

“Well, you’re right, it’s not interesting. At least you came in through the door today.”

Guh, he’s bringing up last night already.

“I do know how to use a door. Surely you didn’t invite me here just to make sarcastic remarks?”

“Of course not. Then, let’s get straight to the point. Tell me about this divorce plan of yours.”

“Before that, let me confirm once more. Am I correct in understanding that I have officially received this divorce case?”

“You’re a tedious one.”

“‘You can never confirm too much’—that’s the teaching of the Azizi Trading Company.”

“Fine, I’m formally requesting it. Make our divorce happen.”

“Understood.”

I wiped my mouth with a napkin, straightened my back, and composed myself.

Alright, switch gears. From this very moment, Julian is no longer my husband but my client.

In my mind, I slapped both cheeks sharply to psych myself up. Filled with firm resolve, I held up two fingers.

“Then, first, let’s organize the situation. Generally speaking, a divorce requires two things: the mutual consent of both parties and the approval of both families. The first point is already cleared, so if we can obtain Duke Vraogone’s permission, the divorce will be happily finalized. However, that’s just the general case. In our situation, a third condition is added.”

I added my left index finger to the two fingers held up by my right hand.

“The royal family’s permission?”

“Yes. For some reason, our marriage was arranged under the king’s personal auspices. Honestly, I don’t understand this part at all. Why would His Majesty involve himself in matchmaking?”

“To weaken Vraogone’s power.”

Julian said this offhandedly while peeling a boiled egg.

“Weaken their power…?”

“It’s common for a ruler to distrust a warrior with too much power. He probably felt threatened that Vraogone wasn’t just focused on defense but was actively conquering neighboring territories. So, he pulled me out—the key to their offensive strength.”

“I see, so that’s why it had to be a marriage where you join my family. That means I was chosen because…”

“By chance, I’d say.”

By chance…?

“From the king’s perspective, as long as I’m separated from Vraogone, that’s enough. Most likely, Duke Eirondale, strapped for cash, volunteered for the dowry.”

“I see.”

And the dowry that should have been used to prepare for married life, along with business funds, vanished into garden renovation expenses. That old man is unforgivable.

“What’s wrong? You look like you’re staring at your parent’s murderer.”

“Quite frankly, he is a parent like a murderer.”

“Whose parent are we talking about?”

“Anyway, now that we know, this makes things simpler. After divorcing me, my lord can immediately remarry someone else. Then His Majesty shouldn’t have any complaints.”

“So, I still have to remarry after all.”

Julian’s brows tilted at a dissatisfied angle.

“That’s right. You’ll have to bear with that point. I imagine it must be hard for a woman-hater like you… but it should be much better than a plain woman you don’t even want to look at.”

“…Are you trying to return my sarcasm?”

“If you really can’t stand it, there’s also the option of making a white marriage pledge before the wedding. You could draw up a contract from the start stating you won’t share a bed, will live separately, and if necessary, even reside in different homes. Though it’s an unusual marriage, with a ducal heir’s title and money, I doubt there would be a shortage of families willing to volunteer.”

“Indeed, that might not be so bad…”

Not a bad idea, if I do say so myself. With that, condition three is safely cleared.

“That leaves condition two: Duke Vraogone’s approval. However, based on what I overheard last night, this might be the most difficult—”

“It’s not just Vraogone, is it?”

“Huh?”

“Duke Eirondale’s approval should also be required.”

“Ah, my father’s…”

Right, it’s so obvious it completely slipped my mind. Of course, that’s the normal way to think. But—

“Then it’s fine.”

“…?”

This time, Julian’s brows showed confusion.

“My father has no interest in me whatsoever as the child of his former wife. As long as he got the dowry, he wouldn’t bat an eye whether I get divorced or die in a ditch. So post-facto approval is acceptable.”

“…Is that so?”

“Yes, that’s how it is. You know my nickname, don’t you? The Sacrificial Young Lady—quite different from the brave Undying King.”

I meant it as a self-deprecating joke, but Julian’s expression remained stern. Only a faint tinge of sadness colored his blue eyes.

“I’m no different.”

“Huh?”

…What did he mean by that?

I had no time to ponder it before the dining room door was thrown open violently.

“Pardon the intrusion!”

It was Zack, who was usually stationed by Julian’s side. He seemed unusually flustered, crossing the dining room in large strides to whisper in his master’s ear.

“—I’ll send out scouts immediately.”

“Yes.”

Instantly, Julian’s expression changed.

“My lord, what’s…”

“We’ll talk later. It’s no time to be leisurely discussing divorce.”

With that, Julian tossed his used napkin onto the table and stood up.

“Rebellion.”

He delivered the news bluntly.