Please Provide Compensation Through Divorce-Chapter 28

"The position of Empress requires a stronger woman. Someone who can truly help Your Majesty."

"I've never met a woman stronger than you."

I shook my head. Perhaps because of my frustration, words that shouldn't have come out slipped.

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"No. I'm just an ordinary person who can't even use magic."

Leto's eyes widened.

"Magic?"

"...Yes."

"So Shawn was right."

What did Shawn say? What exactly did he tell Leto?

No, let's stop. This isn't a conversation to have with someone who is drunk. I need to get Leto to his room.

"Yes, let's say that's the case. It's too late now, so you should go and rest."

I gently pushed him, but he didn't budge. He was like a wall.

"Livia."

"Yes."

"Is it because you don't like me?"

"It's not that—"

I bit my tongue. The words had slipped out before I could stop them.

A strange smile spread across Leto's lips. He slowly approached me. I froze as he leaned in.

He whispered in my ear,

"If that's not it— does that mean you like me?"

He was too close. I felt all the hairs on my body stand on end. He tilted his head slightly. His lips brushed my cheek before pulling away.

"Answer me. Now."

Knock, knock.

The door opened, and Yuton and Lady Mare entered. Yuton rushed over, startled.

"Your Majesty! I wondered where you had disappeared to, and here you are."

Yuton quickly pulled Leto away.

"You can't lean on Her Majesty like that. I'm sorry, Your Majesty. I should have taken better care of him."

"No need to apologize. You saved me, Sir Yuton."

Leto reluctantly let Yuton lead him out. Lady Mare asked worriedly,

"Your Majesty, you seem feverish. Are you alright?"

I looked in the wall mirror. Indeed, my face was flushed.

The next afternoon, I called Shawn to the drawing room. He wore his Royal Guard uniform. The navy blue suited his brown hair well.

"The uniform looks good on you."

"Haha, does it?"

"You must have drunk a lot last night, but you seem fine?"

"I'm naturally resilient. A night's sleep and the alcohol is gone."

Impressive stamina. He really suits being a knight more than a mage.

"I thought the Royal Guards were all stiff, but they’re different once you get to know them. They have loyalty and solidarity. They're on a different level from the guild members."

"You seem to like them a lot. I'm glad I recommended the Royal Guards."

"Well, I’m still a mage at heart. But Livia, why did you call me?"

"Brother, did you drink with His Majesty last night?"

"We drank together. Why? Did His Majesty talk about me?"

His title for Leto had changed since becoming a Royal Guard. He used to call him "the Emperor" or "that guy." Now, he respectfully referred to him as "His Majesty."

"Not exactly. I think you talked about me with His Majesty."

Shawn didn't understand at first, but then he snapped his fingers and looked a bit embarrassed.

"Well, I might have said something unnecessary..."

"It's alright. Tell me."

Shawn recounted the events of last night.

So he talked about the deceased Livia. It's surprising. A marquis’s daughter feeling inadequate.

Maybe it was a good thing.

Mentioning magic to Leto last night was hasty. Leto didn’t even know about Meril yet.

But now, he might think I want a divorce because of my feelings of inadequacy.

"Did I make a mistake?"

"No, brother. You did well."

"Really?"

Shawn's face brightened.

"Yes. Please continue to work for the royal family."

"Of course. Trust me. Call me whenever you need help. I'll always be in the palace."

Shawn smiled confidently. It felt reassuring to have a strong ally in the palace, even if he was unpredictable.

Soon, Lady Mare entered the room.

"Your Majesty, His Majesty invites you to lunch."

"His Majesty?"

I usually declined, but not today.

Last night, I realized something.

'Drawing lines with Leto is pointless. He easily crosses them.'

Avoiding him won't solve anything. He’s ready to pursue me as much as I avoid him.

In the end, the only option left is a head-on confrontation.

'Stay focused. And clearly reject him.'

I went to the dining room in time for lunch. Leto waited, looking immaculate. There were no traces of a hangover. Everyone seems to have excellent stamina.

"Welcome."

His voice was a bit hoarse. It was a new, languid tone.

I sat across from him.

"How do you feel?"

"I did drink a lot last night. But I'm fine. It's bearable."

He showed no signs of discomfort. Did he not remember last night? It would be better if he didn't.

The meal was fine until Leto brought it up.

"Faram failed to refine the indigo."

"What?!"

He chuckled at my reaction.

"Don’t be too surprised. It's just one failure."

I sighed in relief. It wasn't a complete failure.

"I couldn’t focus on the indigo because of my brother. I need to visit Faram soon."

"You? Why?"

"I need to encourage him."

Leto propped his chin on his hand and narrowed his eyes at me.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"It's sad. You’re so kind to other men."

"Are you picking a fight?"

"Of course not."

He laughed as if to dispel any misunderstanding. It was a bright smile, unusual for him.

At the end of the smile, he said,

"I'm sorry about last night."

'So, he remembers everything.'

I sliced a potato with my knife, pretending nothing was wrong.

"It's alright. You can get drunk."

"Drunken antics. I must be out of my mind."

He shook his head, pouring himself wine.

"You're drinking again?"

"Why? Are you worried?"

He asked playfully.

"If you don't want me to, I won't drink."

He slid the wine glass to the center of the table. The red wine swayed.

I looked him straight in the eye and answered.

"Yes. Don't drink. I don't want to talk to you when you’re drunk."

"...Alright. I'll stay sober."

He spun the wine glass playfully. The wine almost spilled, creating a dangerous wave. He watched the ripple intently.

"I like you. I'm certain."

...Here it comes.

Silence followed. He asked,

"Are you planning to say you didn’t hear me again?"

"No. I heard you clearly. You said you like me."

"Right. So, I want to hear your answer."

I put down my fork and knife. I straightened my back and clasped my hands.

"I have only one answer."

"And what is it?"

"I will divorce you, as I said from the beginning."

Leto shook his head as if he expected that.

"Sorry, but that's not an answer."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm asking if you like me or not."

"......"

"I asked the same thing last night. It might have sounded like drunken talk."

This must be about that question.

"Do you dislike me?"

"If not— does that mean you like me?"

He traced the rim of the wine glass with his fingertip. His touch was graceful and relaxed, as if casting a spell on me.

I took the wine glass away. His fingers hovered in the air.

I emptied the glass in one go. I placed the empty glass down with a thud. He looked at me, intrigued.

"If I liked you, I wouldn't have mentioned divorce in the first place."

"Then just say you dislike me. That’s all it takes."

"......"

"Right now. Look at me and say it."

Yes. A single word would end this. "I dislike you."

I opened my mouth... and closed it again.

I could talk about divorce a hundred times. But saying I disliked him was impossible. It was like being under a spell.

"It seems you can't say it."

"Maybe I've grown fond of you."

His lips curved slightly.

"That's serious. I’ll get my hopes up."

"Your Majesty."

He nodded, as if inviting me to speak.

"We will divorce. That fact won’t change. In this situation, what does it matter if I like you or not?"

"It matters to me."

Leto said firmly, as if this was non-negotiable.

"You are my wife. Your feelings matter more to me than this damn divorce."

"It might not matter to me."

"Then I’ll worry for both of us. Just like now."

I clenched my fists under the table. His unwavering affection felt overwhelming.

This was the kind of affection I had never received before. And Leto was the one trying to give it.

I calmed my mind.

"Stop this. You’ll get hurt."

"Hurt."

Leto muttered. He looked at me for a while, lost in thought.

"Livia."

"......"

"It hurts me more when you ignore your own feelings."

I didn’t ask why. He had already given the answer.

Because my feelings mattered most to him. Because I was his wife.

"I can wait."

"For what?"

"Until you give a clear answer. No matter which side it leans."

Wait? For a single-word answer like "yes" or "no"?

All for me.

I should have told him it was meaningless. But different words came out.

"How long will you wait?"

"Is that for me to decide? Until you're ready."

"It must be frustrating."

He laughed softly.

"I won’t have time to be frustrated. Do you think I plan to just sit and wait to win your heart?"

"......"

"I’ll do everything I can."

A declaration of war-like confession. An unwavering determination. I swallowed hard.

"Alright. Do your best."

I won't fall.