Home/I Am Trying to End This Wrong Marriage/ch 4

Chapter 4

“You had an acquaintance with the Duke of Alcester?”

“Ah... We were childhood friends.”

“Friends?”

Edward’s expression grew peculiar. He slowly looked back and forth between Dylan and Angela.

“I never would have imagined you had a male friend. And of all people, the Duke of Alcester, whom others find so intimidating. You must have been quite close to speak so informally and even call him by name.”

Edward placed a hand on Angela’s shoulder and spoke gently.

“I hate to cut this short, but perhaps we should end the conversation here. Over there, it seems some people are looking for you.”

There was no room for further talk. Angela, having replied in agreement, turned to Dylan.

“I’ll be going now. It was good to see you.”

With a warm smile, she departed alongside Edward.

Dylan watched them for a moment, then asked a young nobleman of similar age nearby.

“Those two—are they truly as close as they appear?”

“You mean the Duke and Duchess of Devonshire? Of course. Don’t they seem perfectly affectionate even now?”

As the nobleman said, outwardly they appeared to be an undeniably intimate couple.

Yet Dylan had noticed a subtle shift in Angela when Edward approached. There was no ease about her in her husband’s presence—not only in her tense posture, but also in the smile she directed at Edward, which seemed somehow strained.

Still, the change was not so conspicuous as to be noticed by others. It was only because Dylan remembered Angela as the girl who used to speak freely and comfortably, as in childhood, that he perceived it.

And besides, Dylan’s gaze—except when exchanging greetings with Edward—had been fixed on Angela the entire time.

‘Could there be a secret between them that others don’t know?’

As Dylan mulled this over, another person approached and spoke.

“It seems the Viscount couldn’t attend, so the Duchess of Devonshire came in his place.”

“Ah, I’ve heard she’s been avoiding meetings with her family, hasn’t she?”

The man beside Dylan responded to his remark.

Dylan had heard the stories too—how Angela, after beginning her married life at the Imperial Palace and later moving with her husband to the ducal residence, had grown distant not only from her close acquaintances but even from her own family.

“They say the Dowager Marchioness went to the ducal residence to see her daughter and was turned away without even a glimpse of her face.”

The man glanced sidelong at Angela, who was greeting other nobles alongside her husband, and whispered.

“And this very gathering—is it not only for nobles of the rank of Earl and above?”

As he said, Angela’s elder brother, who had become Viscount Panning a few years prior, was not entitled to attend.

Just then, a grating sound reached Dylan’s ears—a voice that had until then been silent.

“She was such a kind and wonderful person, but she’s changed so much since marriage. Ever since she married into the Imperial family, she’s done nothing but indulge in extravagance... Why should her family be ashamed of her?”

“It’s true that her marriage was a step below the Imperial standard. The Duchess’s extravagance is likely her way of erasing her past from that family. Still, to misuse Imperial property so recklessly—”

“That’s enough.”

Dylan turned his icy gaze toward the men who had been speaking.

“Ashamed of her family? What do you know of her that you dare speak such nonsense?”

The Angela Dylan remembered was a girl who had loved her commoner grandmother openly, without concealment. Even if he had had no contact with her since, the nobles’ words grated on him unbearably.

“You lot, who call yourselves Imperial nobles, are merely parroting the gossip of the aristocratic faction. And you still dare call yourselves loyal to the Imperial House?”

At Dylan’s contemptuous rebuke, the nobles quickly dropped their gazes.

“We apologize.”

Even if they were at a distance where they might not be overheard, mocking the Duchess in the presence of the Duke of Devonshire himself was beyond comprehension to Dylan.

The rumors of Angela’s transformation were already well known to Dylan as well, so there must have been others before who had spoken of her in such a way.

Yet in his eyes, she seemed no different from the Angela he once knew. What on earth had made her appear so changed to others?

Dylan turned his gaze once more toward Angela, standing yonder. The moment his eyes shifted to Edward beside her, Edward looked back at him.

Realizing Dylan was watching him, Edward merely offered a faint smile.

‘No matter how polite he means to be, that smile is far too relaxed.’

The nobles had glanced and whispered about Angela several times—could he truly have been unaware? He must have known full well what rumors circulated about his wife...

Angela’s earlier reaction, too, left an uneasy feeling.

‘I’ll need to look into this.’

From then on, Dylan began gathering information not only on Angela but on Edward as well.

He never imagined, of course, that Angela might be playing the part of a perfect wife at her husband’s behest.

---

That had been only a short while ago.

And now, to think that encounter would be the last time he ever saw Angela...?

Dylan could not believe the sudden news and fell into a long silence.

He had thought nothing could shock him more than when, after his parents’ death, he had seen his relatives’ true colors. Yet this feeling was just as staggering.

And unlike back then, there was now a hollowness in a corner of his heart—proving that this was no mere shock.

Was she truly such a special presence to him, even from that brief childhood connection?

Why did he feel so empty? Dylan could not understand his own heart.

He only swallowed his bitterness quietly, not wishing to show his feelings openly.

But just then, Kevin, who had momentarily turned his gaze outside the carriage, cried out in surprise.

“Lord Dylan! There’s someone over there!”

“What?”

Kevin pointed toward the river. They were passing along its lower reaches at that moment. Dylan looked and saw something dark blue floating in the water.

Though her back was turned and he could not see her face, it was clearly a woman in a navy dress.

“Save her at once.”

Dylan ordered the carriage to stop immediately. The knights of House Alcester waded into the river and pulled the woman out.

“The current’s been strong with the rain these past few days. There must have been an accident upstream,” Kevin said as they walked toward the riverbank with Dylan. Along the river that crossed the capital, it was common for nobles to enjoy pleasure boats, and occasionally someone would fall in and be rescued.

But this was the lower reaches, where no boats came. If she had drifted all the way from upstream, her chances of survival were uncertain.

“My Lord...”

When they finally drew close enough to see the woman, Kevin looked at Dylan with startled eyes.

Dylan too furrowed his brow as he regarded her.

“Lady Kruger?”

Penelope Kruger. The daughter of the Marquess of Kruger, well known to Dylan.

“Fetch a physician at once.”

Even if their relations were strained, having rescued Penelope, it was his duty to do what was proper. One knight departed to find a physician, while another checked Penelope’s breathing.

Then the knight looked at Dylan with an ambiguous expression.

“My Lord... The lady is not breathing.”

“Not breathing.”

Dylan sighed briefly in reply.

This was the lady who was vying with her brother for the succession of their house—a rare case in the Empire, likely influenced by her mother, the Marchioness.

Penelope was clever and capable, and many expected she would surpass her brother to become heir...

“Should we not inform the House of Kruger?”

As Kevin spoke with a worried face, Dylan was about to answer—

“Cough.”

Penelope, who had been said not to be breathing, suddenly coughed and winced.

“Did you not say her breath had stopped?”

At the sight of her regaining consciousness, Dylan stared silently at the knight who had confirmed her condition.

“It’s true! She was certainly not breathing, but...”

As the knight stammered in confusion, Penelope slowly opened her eyes. Her sharply upturned lids revealed gray irises that blinked dazedly at the sky.

It was the first time Dylan had ever seen Penelope—who always met others with a clear, piercing gaze—look so drained.

‘Well, having nearly drowned and come to, she must be disoriented.’

Thinking little of it, Dylan knelt on one knee to lower himself to her level and asked,

“My Lady. Are you conscious?”

Only then did Penelope turn to look at Dylan. And her eyes widened greatly.

“Dylan?”

Dylan?

At her sudden address by his first name, Dylan frowned.

---

‘How am I still alive?’

Angela lifted her heavy eyelids and stared blankly into the air.

Her whole body felt damp and soaked through. Lying on the ground, it seemed someone had pulled her out.

It wasn’t her husband—if it had been Edward, the surroundings would not have been so chaotic.

Coming to her senses amid the noise around her, Angela wearily shifted her gaze.

“My Lady. Are you conscious?”

From the other side came a familiar man’s voice.

Angela recognized the owner of that voice and felt a bewildered pang.

“Dylan?”

She had never expected Dylan to be here.

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