The Abandoned and Terminally Ill Lady Married a Monster - Chapter 56
Chapter 56
Her supposed uselessness had to be grounds for divorce. Slightly bewildered, Aili pressed on. “And… I can’t have children. I’m… infertile. My family tricked you. They married me off knowing I couldn’t conceive. You were deceived.”
Infertility, whether male or female, was a critical issue in aristocratic marriages. It was such a significant flaw that it was sometimes concealed, but if discovered, it was grounds for divorce—even social ruin for the family involved.
Ailee’s voice trembled, her words trailing off as she spoke of her inability to bear children. The sheer sadness of her situation made her want to laugh. She had never heard of laughter being a response to grief, but there it was.
“Now that you’re well, you can divorce me and find another… suitable lady…”
“Ailee.”
“…and live happily…”
“Ailee Blashur.”
What?
Ailee’s words abruptly ceased. Her family name, Lizziana, had been replaced with Blashur. It followed imperial law for the wife to take the higher-ranking family name, but they were discussing divorce. Why address her that way, especially after she’d just confessed her infertility?
Daykin repeated “Ailee Blashur,” a look of profound satisfaction on his face.
“You don’t need to know anything. Not estate management, not courtly etiquette. If you wish to learn, I’ll provide tutors.”
Ailee’s clear violet eyes wavered.
“If managing the estate is difficult or unpleasant, I’ll handle it. You needn’t involve yourself with the tiresome social scene.”
Had he heard a single word she’d said?
Ailee, utterly bewildered, could only open and close her mouth, speechless.
“And children… well, that’s excellent news. There’s no need to risk your health. I was worried about that, actually.” Daykin cheerfully concluded. “So, there’s no reason for a divorce.”
“But… what…?”
Reasons for divorce abounded, yet he claimed there were none. Any other family would have rejected her at the first mention. In fact, she wouldn’t even have been considered for marriage. Everyone believed her children would inherit her supposed defects.
Yet Daykin, the man who had married her, smiled with an air of utter contentment. …Why?
“Is there anything else? Tell me. I’ll agree to anything… except divorce.”
Ailee’s head dropped. She feared he would see the tears she wasn’t even shedding. She felt as though she should be crying, though she couldn’t explain why. That feeling, that strange certainty, prevented her from looking up.
Daykin gently cupped her face in his hands. His touch, firm yet warm, sent a comforting heat through her.
“Although… if my wife truly doesn’t wish to be the Grand Duchess, I suppose I could relinquish the title.” His blue eyes, gazing into hers, held the warmth of springtime. She had always thought of blue as a cold, sharp color. Could it be warm? Could it glow with such tenderness?
“We’re wealthy enough. Perhaps a year-round stay in the warm south wouldn’t be so bad.”
Relinquish the title of Grand Duke?
Why… why go to such lengths? What am I to you? I’m useless, incapable of anything. Why isn’t that enough to let me go?
For the first time in her life, Ailee encountered someone who saw her intrinsic worth, not her utility. The warmth was so unexpected, it felt almost cruel. Is this tragedy or comedy? she silently asked the world that had crafted such a poignant scene. Lacking any formal education in such matters, she couldn’t discern the answer. But one thing she knew: for someone who loved a person with so little time left, it would be a tragedy. To lose power, to lose everything, would be devastating for him. She couldn’t bear to imagine the despair he would face if stripped of his title.
“Ailee, what shall we do?”
If she remained adamant about the divorce, he might actually abandon everything, title and all.
What to do… what to do…?
“…I’ll stay.”
“A good choice.”
“But I have a proposition.”
Ailee took Daykin’s hands, slowly drawing them down, squeezing tightly before attempting to release them. He held fast, refusing to let go. With her hands still captive, she spoke. “You’ll regret this. Marrying me, that childhood promise… Feelings change easily.”
Daykin paused at her implication that his feelings were fickle, but his expression remained relaxed, encouraging her to continue. Aili, glancing at him nervously, pressed on. “This is for you. A grace period. If, after a month, I don’t irritate you beyond measure, I won’t mention divorce again.”
Irritate? Not dislike, not even disappoint, but merely irritate? Daykin frowned slightly at the low bar she set. But he would agree to anything. If such an absurd condition would keep her from fleeing, he would seize it. Without hesitation, he replied, “Then I suppose we’ll never divorce, Ailee.”
Watching his confident smile, Ailee offered a bitter one of her own. If his feelings remained unchanged after a month, she would tell him everything.
Whether it’s changing feelings or death that parts us, you’ll understand why we can’t be together.
As their wager began, Daykin, with a gentle laugh, kissed her forehead.
“I love you.”
The sweet poison was already coursing through her veins.
