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Thank you for reading this post, don't forget to subscribe!Chapter 91
Margaret’s peaceful life was shattered once again. The last time she felt this anxious every day was when she and Alex were newly married, and she was on a month-long honeymoon at home. Moreover, Margaret keenly noticed that Alex was now much more intimate with her than he had been then, when he was still somewhat awkward.
He picked her up and dropped her off after getting out of work every day, and shared three meals a day. Now they weren’t even sleeping in separate rooms. After five days at home, Alex took his pillow to the master bedroom without explanation. Of course, he was still well-behaved in bed. Even the unintentional skin contact was enough to make Margaret nervous for a while.
What shocked Margaret even more was that Alex actually invited her for a walk after dinner!
By the light of God, her stern husband was actually inviting her for a walk! And the places he chose were all seemingly romantic, like the riverbank, a small bridge, a garden…
Margaret felt she couldn’t understand Alex anymore. In her memory, Alex’s heart was probably only filled with faith and swordsmanship, just as she was obsessed with magic. They were essentially the same kind of people. Once immersed in their own world, they wouldn’t care about anyone or anything around them. It’s just that Alex was the object of Margaret’s obsession, while she didn’t exist in Alex’s eyes.
Margaret had a chilling suspicion—could it be that Alex wanted a divorce?!
Although divorce is a grave disgrace for nobles, Alex, as a high knight of the temple, completely lost his chance to be promoted to paladin because of his marriage to Margaret—paladins must be devoted to the God of Light in body and soul and are not allowed to have worldly marriages. Margaret thought that if Alex could get rid of this marriage, he would be pleased. Therefore, Alex’s unusual behaviour during this period was explained. Just like condemned prisoners have a lavish last meal before their execution, this was probably Alex’s final comfort to Margaret; after all, he was truly considerate.
Although Margaret was slow to react, it didn’t mean she was stupid. She had already realised that her husband was a very thoughtful person, and his consideration was always so subtle and understated.
After being surrounded by onlookers on the first day he drove her home, Margaret expected to endure those suffocating stares again on her way home. Instead, she only saw a carriage and driver at the school gate. She felt a pang of disappointment; the man’s promise to pick her up and drop her off at work was clearly just a joke.
The girl opened the carriage door and saw Alex sitting inside.
He was reading a book, his blond hair falling across his forehead, instantly softening his usually cold face. Sensing someone enter, he looked up, a flicker of amusement seeming in his deep blue eyes. Then, a smile curved his lips.
It was indeed a smile, faint and subtle, but he was definitely smiling at Margaret.
In that instant, a wave of overwhelming joy washed over her, and Margaret instinctively took a step back. She didn’t know how to respond; her heart pounded in her ears like a rapid drumbeat. She couldn’t hear the noise outside the carriage, couldn’t hear Alex’s deep voice; she could only stand there dumbfounded, returning his strange smile.
She must have been foolish then. Even now, thinking back, Margaret couldn’t help but cover her face in shame. If Alex truly wanted a divorce, she could understand, because she felt she had been incredibly foolish!
However, Alex didn’t seem to care about his wife’s clumsy response. From then on, whenever he picked Margely up after getting out of work, he would remain in the carriage and not show his face. At first, Margely didn’t notice, but several days later, she realised that Alex must have seen her discomfort in public and was doing this on purpose.
Margaret discovered more details one by one.
He would always shield her with his body when they went out, and when he took her for walks, he never went to crowded places. Even the servants in the house appeared less frequently in Margaret’s presence—the girl thought she was being subtle; she was simply unaccustomed to being waited on, especially by those who seemed more glamorous than her.
This silent, meticulous care was like a gentle poison. Even knowing it was just Alex’s chivalrous manners, the girl succumbed to it without resistance.
With this beautiful memory before the divorce, Margaret felt content.
The very next morning at the breakfast table, there were no onions on Margaret’s plate. She remembered Alex looking at her then; in that brief glance, the man noticed her aversion to onions and silently instructed the servants to stop serving them to her.
Even Margaret’s father had never noticed this little quirk of his daughter’s.
Even if Margaret didn’t love Alex, such a considerate man would make her willing to spend her life as his wife. And what woman wouldn’t want such a husband? But Alex could never belong to her; even if this man wouldn’t dedicate himself to the gods, Margaret was unworthy of him.
The Farman family mansion wasn’t actually far from the Temple of Light; on several occasions, during their after-dinner walks, they unknowingly wandered into the vicinity of the temple. Alex wasn’t a talkative man, and only at times like this did he become more talkative. Margaret should have been secretly delighted, even though she wasn’t used to being alone with him, and Alex was even holding her hand; she couldn’t suppress the joy in her heart.
Until they encountered Finellis, the temple priestess, a blonde beauty with the title of saint.
She and Alex stood together, so perfectly matched, both with blonde hair and blue eyes, one as pure as water, the other as cold as ice, like a mural on a cathedral ceiling, beautiful and unattainable. Most importantly, Margaret saw the deep love in Finelli’s eyes for Alex.
That night, Margaret couldn’t sleep.
She suddenly remembered a puppet show she had seen as a child. A circus clown rescued a comatose noblewoman by the roadside. He fell in love with her at first sight, caring for her day and night, yet the lady remained perpetually sorrowful. Why was that? The clown wondered anxiously. He would do anything to see her smile.
He desperately tried to make the lady laugh. He performed magic tricks, made funny faces, racked his brains. Finally, one day, the lady smiled. He was overjoyed, but then he saw her stand up, run past him like the wind, and throw herself into the arms of the nobleman who had travelled from afar.
“Miss, Miss…” The Joker stood silently to the side, watching the young lady and the gentleman chat and laugh intimately. They were inseparable, their every move exuding perfect understanding, and they never once glanced at him.
Of course, he was just a clown.
A lowly, ugly, insignificant clown, forever unreachable to him.
“Alex.” Margaret pushed open the slightly ajar door.
Alex was working at his desk. Hearing the soft call, he paused, startled—this was the first time Margaret had called him by his name. “Is something the matter?” he was about to answer when he suddenly remembered his colleagues’ instructions and swallowed the question back, responding instead with a softer, “What is it?”
Backlit by the bright candlelight filling the room, the girl’s shadow stretched long across the carpet. He saw Margaret with her head bowed, saying softly but firmly, “Let’s…get a divorce.”