We Will Get Divorced: The Perfect Divorce Plan of the Sacrificial Daughter and the Cold-Blooded Soldier - Chapter 2

And as if waiting for that very moment, the office door opened without a knock.

“See, Mother? I told you it was Sister.”

“Indeed.”

Entering were two ladies dressed as if they were bouquets of flowers.

“I told you, Mother. Sister is the only woman in this house who would make such vulgar noises.”

My stepsister Lydia Eirondale, with whom I share no blood, narrowed her eyes maliciously the moment she spotted me. I could almost see through the fan hiding her mouth, twisted into a mocking shape.

“Really, it shows your breeding. If you’ve returned, at least have the decency to greet us, Sierra. Have you still not learned any manners at your age?”

Meanwhile, my stepmother Paulina Eirondale pierced me with a gaze that didn’t even attempt to hide her contempt.

“Mother… Right now, as the Duke’s undersecretary, I have important business with the Duke of Eirondale. Could we please continue this conversation later?”

“My, answering back before addressing your own rudeness? I’m too appalled for words. This is exactly why no one wanted to marry you at your age.”

“But—”

“Silence!”

Mother cut me off with a dismissive wave of her fan. The sparkle of her rings trailed through the air, and the scent of expensive perfume wafted gently.

…Ah, she’s beautiful.

The thought came to me, completely inappropriate for the situation.

Today, too, Mother looked as dazzling as if she were on a dance floor. So did Lydia. There was no comparing them to me in my plain office attire.

Stepmother, who was called the social butterfly of high society, came to this house five years ago. The day after my real mother passed away from illness, she descended upon House Eirondale as if she’d been waiting. The new mother, true to the rumors of her beauty, invested in her appearance on an entirely different scale. Neither Stepmother nor Lydia would wear the same dress twice. They raided the shelves of high-end jewelry shops as if buying vegetables at the market and demanded enough shoes to overwhelm an octopus. The Eirondale family coffers, already meager, rapidly dwindled after the remarriage.

Of course, I’ve complained about the family finances whenever the opportunity arose, but…

“Look, Mother! The garden from this window, how beautiful!”

“My, how lovely. A splendid garden worthy of the Duke of Eirondale’s house has been completed.”

“Oh, indeed. Indeed.”

…They both handle Father so well.

“Say, Father. Since we have such a wonderful garden now, let’s hold a grand garden party.”

“That’s a wonderful idea, Lydia. We even have something to celebrate. May I order a new evening dress, dear?”

“Of course, of course. Let’s summon the tailor at once.”

“Wait, Father. We haven’t finished our conversation.”

“What is it, Sierra? You’re still here?”

Is that what you say to a daughter you haven’t seen in a month? Today is my birthday. Is there even one person in this mansion who remembers that?

“I told you to go rest in your room.”

“That’s impossible.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t have a room!”

I nearly fainted when I returned to my room. My beloved room, which I hadn’t seen in a month, was completely empty, as if a parade of burglars had passed through.

When I saw furniture identical to mine flowing down the main street one after another, I thought there must be someone with very similar tastes. But no—it was all my belongings.

“What on earth is the meaning of this? Our family finances shouldn’t be so strained that we need to sell my antique furniture.”

“We didn’t sell it. We’re just preparing for your move.”

“Move…?”

“It might be inconvenient for a while, but it’s a small matter. You can sleep in the guest room or something.”

“Move? Whose move?”

“Yours, of course.”

It was decided? You must be joking? Without me knowing?

“What’s with that dumbfounded look? You didn’t think you’d make your husband live alone, did you?”

“…Husband?”

A chill ran down my spine as a bad premonition surged. What is this? I can’t follow the conversation at all. I’m overcome with a sensation of reality rapidly receding.

“Say, Father. Perhaps Sister doesn’t know?”

“Hmm? Was that so, Paulina?”

“Well, I assumed you had told her, dear…”

Wait, what are you talking about? Clearly, they’re discussing me, but I’m the only one left behind. The bad premonition won’t stop. Sweat broke out all over me.

“Well, fine. If you don’t know, I’ll tell you.”

Father crossed his arms grandly, like a teacher facing a slow student.

“Sierra, your marriage has been arranged. Leave this house promptly.”

He said it as if it were the most casual afterthought.