A Way to Confirm Your Husband’s True Feelings - Chapter 69

“Actually… I only realized it after coming to the capital, but… I think I was a bit too excited about leading a new lifestyle in the territory. I’m sorry if I acted too familiarly all this time. From now on, I’ll try to act more composed, like a proper Margravine.”

Caesar truly believed he could love her no matter what side of herself she showed him. But the one exception was this—drawing a line and distancing herself. Too excited, she said. Too familiar. But to him, all of that had been… happiness.

Perhaps her decision to stop greeting him morning and night was what she now considered ‘more composed’. But Caesar couldn’t bring himself to ask. Even mentioning it felt like it would burden her—as if saying I’m upset because you stopped, so please continue doing something that tires you was something he couldn’t do.

In the end, all Caesar could do was silently accept her change.

“Beatrice, I… It doesn’t matter to me what kind of person you are.”

To him, it was a statement meant to show understanding, but even so, the situation didn’t improve.

It was as if an invisible wall had gone up around his wife. The affection that had been given so naturally had vanished as if it had all been a lie. Caesar racked his brain for a way to pull himself out of this sudden chaos and despair, but it was no easy task.

From the beginning, he hadn’t even known what it was he had done to earn Beatrice’s affection. If only he knew the answer, he was confident he could become the kind of husband she wanted… but he had no way of knowing.

The love that had arrived like a stroke of luck disappeared just as suddenly. If he had never known it, he could have lived without it. But now that he had tasted its rapture, the sense of loss was unbearable.

Days passed so painfully that he wondered if it wouldn’t have been better to never have known such feelings. Just as he feared, it seemed the goddess of fortune had played a cruel trick on his life once again.

He had to try something to win back his wife’s love, but he was always stopped by fear. Not even knowing what he had done to lose her, he worried that any misguided attempt would only make things worse.

Even if his insides burned to ash, he had to give her time. If he just held on and waited, he believed that one day, his kind and gentle wife would take pity on him and turn back to him.

But every time he saw Beatrice no longer approaching him, his heart twisted in pain. Waking up every morning to an empty space beside him, he still hadn’t gotten used to it. Even just holding her hand while she slept—he desperately longed to feel her soft breathing and warmth once more.

Thus, day after hellish day passed, and the New Year’s Ball approached. From that point on, Beatrice’s behavior began to take a strange turn.

That day, as Caesar watched his wife dressed more beautifully than necessary, he was overcome by a base jealousy and suspicion. Her affection for him had long since run dry, so for whom had she adorned herself? He felt a rage that even he knew was irrational.

It was the first time he had ever held his wife in his arms while dancing—and the face he least wanted to see appeared. Still sleek and loathsome—Edgar Tyrenion.

‘……’

Was it just his imagination? As soon as the crown prince appeared, his wife slipped her hand out from his arm. A chill crept up his spine as dread washed over him, and all he could do was clench his fists in silence.

To make matters worse, he had no idea that the two had been exchanging letters. A seed of doubt planted itself deep in his chest and only grew.

But Beatrice, who could not possibly know how he felt, left with her sister.

With her gone, he had no motivation for anything. He passed the time aimlessly, waiting for her to finish her conversation and return, but all the conversations he overheard made his mood even fouler.

“Did you see the youngest Ducal Lady Estern here tonight?”

“Of course. Though I suppose we should call her Margravine Valentin now.”

“Ah, right. Silly me, I keep forgetting these days.”

“Well, looking at her, it’s understandable. She may be newly married, but is that the face of a married woman?”

“Indeed. Still as beautiful as ever. With looks like that, even if she divorced three times, men would still line up for her.”

The idle chatter of socialites, gathered in threes and fours under the guise of socializing, was enough to give him a headache.

It wasn’t just the lingering interest in Beatrice despite her having a husband that bothered him, he also couldn’t shake the inferiority complex that said that he wasn’t enough of a match for her, which was why that attention never faded.

He knew full well what people said about their marriage.

“A start-up noble with nothing but ambition, hah. He managed to ensnare the youngest Estern girl, can you believe it?”

“Poor lady. Must be so naive, still so young. She probably just got swept up by his looks.”

If it were just about himself, he wouldn’t have cared what people said behind his back. Compared to the foul-mouthed brawls of commoners in the streets, the snide gossip of aristocrats was laughable at best.

However, when it came to Beatrice, it was a different story.