Despite Charles' shocked and distorted look, my mouth doesn't stop talking. "Have you never thought that?"
"Mhm..."
"You should look at the mirror again."
Charles' expression with his mouth opened as if he's drawing a perfect contrast with my smiling face turns drastic in real time, but it doesn't matter much.
I'm rather angry at what he said.
Yes, I'd like to say let's get a divorce.
I wish I could say it because it's all I want.
But, he says, "Right," as if it's to calm down the anger that has been rising in himself.
"—Yes, I can do that." He then accepts my words with a nod and a long sigh. "It's because looking too handsome can be repulsive to some people. Yes, I understand."
Of course, it's his own interpretation.
Are words being filtered in your ears?
If not, how can he stand to say such ridiculous words?
"Ah. Yes."
I nod perfunctory because I didn't want to respond to his pride with a laugh.
"What?"
Don't say anything. If I do, I have to stop myself.
As soon as he's about to put the plump claws in his mouth, he asks, "Is that all?"
I put my hand down at his question. The thought of will you divorce me if I bring you any other reason crosses my mind for about 0.1 seconds.
He asks. "Do you need another reason?"
"... ..."
"If you're really just trying to get a divorce for that reason, you will ruin your face."
No?
For a bit, my heart pounds with anticipation,
"You'll adjust."
"... ..."
" I can't get divorced because I'm too handsome."
...What?
At that moment, I'm dumbfounded as if someone has hit me on the back of my head.
Are you serious? From beginning to end, you don't seem to be joking, given your face is serious all the time. Isn't it worse if you're serious? If so, do handsome people not have any humility about themselves?
The impudence of saying, I'm very handsome, very, very handsome.
I can't believe that he can say this with a straight face.
That's amazing cause I wouldn't even say anything like that if I'm to die.
Looking at his face after he spoke without any modesty, "Whoo—" I breathe in softly and avoid eye contact. I wanted to shake my head, but I hold myself back.
Honestly, I wanted to ask why can't I get a divorce just because you're handsome, but the moment I mention it, I think the conversation will become longer, so I stay quiet.
Today's goal is to finish the meal quickly and safely. I don't want his good looks to appear in my head anymore. Therefore, I will look straight at him in the face one more time.
Then I'll get used to it.
Besides, he's just saying what he's been thinking all his life.
Does that mean that I also have to do that too, from now on?
Right now, I'm also so stunning that I give myself chills.
Even before coming down to the dining room, Abella's appearance was beautiful and perfect like always.
She's even prettier if I tilt my head slightly to the right.
Look back and forth in the room, I tilt my head a little—
What are you doing?
I shake my head, creeping myself out.
I can't do it even if I die.
It's as if I'm asking myself if I'm pretty.
Even if I die, I cannot do that, or else, I'll eat my own hand.
My head's hazy as if I'm disgusted at myself thinking about saying that again.
"... ..."
I could see the tip of Charles' eyebrow slightly rising, looking at me strangely.
He's asking why, what, and why.
Even though I'm upset inside, I also know very well why he's frowning with such expression.
"I'm full." I turn back, pretending that I did not see anything.
The butler, Curtis comes closer and wipes my mouth with a napkin. He then asks as he clears the plate. "What would you like to do for dessert?"
Curtis, with his gray hair up nicely, is a longtime confidant of Charles. His presence is insignificant when he's by Charles' side.
Hmm.
I look to the side, turning my attention which was previously directed at Charles away.
Hmm.
Near the door is Ledin, Charles' escort.
His number 1 and 2.
Sitting in front of me is Charles Diago. As soon as I see them in front of me, a thought crosses my mind.
I'm a little sad that there are no three aides on my side.
"I'm fine." The crestfallen look on Charles' face from my rejection is sweeter than the dessert itself.
How should I say it?
I bite my lips, unable to hide my devilish smile.
"So there is no very obvious reason for divorce—" Charles opens his mouth as if he's winning this conversation.
"When you asked me if that was all, I have no choice but to add one more thing." I cut off his words and raise my head.
Then he looks up and wipes his hands meticulously with a napkin, not forgetting to put it away hurriedly.
What should I say to give you a shock?
"A second thing?" Charles hastily adds. "So...?"
However, I take my time answering so that I can enjoy staring at Charles' face. I make sure to look up from time to time with a thoughtful and hesitant look. I repeat the action over and over. Pushing the boundary as much as possible since Charles' patience is thin.
"It—" Before I'm cut off, "First night." I then chew my lips slightly and lift my head. "Thanks to my husband, who ran away without a moment's notice, I cannot stand solitary nights anymore."
"... ..."
"I'm a woman, too."
There's a limit to living with just seeing a man's face. I did not say anything vaguely.
At the end of my words, he says nothing. Counting the silence of 0, 1 and 2 that falls in the dining room as background music,
"If you're not going to eat the claws, could you give them to me?"
I covet his claws with a very bright smile.
.
.
He listens to the sounds of Abella eating the claws, then touches the table with his fingertips. His black eyes glows in the darkened space as he mulls over what she said.
To be honest, I thought she brought up the story of divorce because she wanted to get attention. Rather than answering yes, I would rather sit down and list the conditions that put her in a corner.
I tried to give her a bit of comfort and hold myself back.
'I can't stand my husband who ran away the first night. Are you serious?'
"Ha, this is so annoying."
With a long sigh, he closes his eyes and chews on his lips.
"Curtis."
"Yes."
"What happened to Abella?"
"She was seriously injured." Curtis, who was close by, pushes up his glasses. "Besides that, nothing else."
"That's right."
"Yes."
"But how can it be?"
"Well, I don't know--"
Charles tilts his head slightly, "Is she tired of spending money?"
"Is there anyone who gets tired of it?" Curtis then tilts his head, too.
"Right?"
"Yes."
To be honest, even his mother and sister have never been tired of spending money. The more money and power, the better. That's why he wants to earn more, to have more power.
All conveniences and values in life needs money and power, Charles.
His mother taught him that, and most of the people he knew weren't tired of spending money. Instead of spending time having fun, spending money, she wanted a divorce.
"Any contact from the baron?"
"None."
What a strange woman.
The first time Abella accepted his marriage proposal, she was still a woman of common sense.
That's what he thought.
But—
'Please divorce me.'
He couldn't figure it out after she came to his office and proudly told him that she wanted a divorce.
"Pay attention to her."
"Yes."
"Anyone approaching her on the side, especially the fourth prince." When he gets up from his seat and pulls his jacket slightly to touch up his appearance, he looks at her reflection in the window. His face looks tired, even though he often hears that he's handsome.
You look exhausted.
Abella's words with crab meat in her mouth comes to his mind. He laughs until air left his lungs. Then he turns toward Ledin's direction.
"Your excellency."
"Meeting?"
"Yes, it's the North Tower."
The smile long disappears from his face.
.
.
.
.
Note: looking back, Charles' always been a fool~~~