It Seems There Is A Discrepancy In Their Understanding

Several seconds of silence passed between the two of them.

In the gazes they held on each other was the shared conviction that there was a discrepancy in their understanding—but neither of them knew what it was.

Lucien was the one to break the silence.

“…You want to go to the domain?”

“Y-yes…”

“The sea…?”

“Yes. Seeing the sea has always been my dream…”

“…I see.”

“Yes…”

“Was that why you married into House de Broy?”

“Well…”

Marguerite thought back.

The biggest reason had been the royal order, and the fact that her sister had refused, but as far as Marguerite herself was concerned, the idea that she could see the sea if she went to the de Broy domain had been important.

“…Yes. I suppose I did have that expectation as well…”

So she answered honestly, but—

‘Why does it feel like the air suddenly got so heavy…?’

Lucien’s expression remained blank, yet from his unmoving body emanated an indescribable pressure—something like authority, or perhaps menace.

“I see…”

“…Um, did I make a mistake?”

At Marguerite’s timid question, Lucien let out a sigh.

He realized that his roundabout way of asking whether she had something she wanted to say already revealed his own hesitation.

“I was wondering how life here has been for you.”

“Life in House de Broy? Of course, I believe it has been wonderful.”

“……”

“…Did I make a mistake?”

“When you answer so immediately, it only makes me feel more at a loss.”

Even Lucien could tell that Marguerite was speaking from the heart.

Just as he had suspected, she truly did not seem to care about the attacks from House de Broy at all.

There was clearly some kind of disconnect between him and the woman who had become his wife. That much he understood. The problem was that he had no idea where it came from.

“It seems that you and I differ greatly in the assumptions underlying our values.”

“I’m sorry…”

“That is not something to apologize for. But I cannot understand why you would call your current life wonderful.”

At Lucien’s words, Marguerite’s shoulders had drooped, but she looked up again.

“Oh, in that case, it’s because I’m being allowed to live far better than I ever did at my family’ home.”

Meaning to say that he should not worry about it.

With a gentle smile, Marguerite stated it lightly—unaware that it was yet another bombshell.

“Better than at your family’ home…?”

‘Ah.’

Lucien’s expression grew even more dubious as he fixed his gaze on Marguerite.

“Wait. What kind of life did you live at your family home?”

“That is…”

She had lived a life so harsh that the harassment in House de Broy felt mild by comparison, but to say that aloud would be tantamount to revealing the circumstances under which she had been all but driven out in marriage. Only now did she realize it had been a slip of the tongue.

She closed her mouth, but it was already too late.

“Your sister said…”

At the mention of her sister, Marguerite’s expression hardened for the first time.

In Lucien’s mind, Isabella’s words at the banquet resurfaced.

—To make that sister your wife… how truly pitiable you are, Lord Lucien.

Lucien had taken it as a jab at his mother, Yumila. He had thought Isabella was trying to demean House de Broy by insisting that Marguerite was unwanted by House Clavel.

‘Could it be… that was her true feeling?’

Was it truly from the heart—that she had treated her own sister as a nuisance, and taken pleasure in sending her off to marry into their political enemy, House de Broy, to be bullied?

A shiver ran through him, making his hair stand on end.

What surged up was anger.