Chapter 2
Mike moved fast. Before the sun was even up, he was already at Oliver's place, making his case against me.
He must've been worried I'd really go to the emperor and ask for a divorce, making him lose face.
Mike's the kind of guy who cares about rules and appearances more than anything.
Marrying a Princess and then dumping her? If word got out, it'd be a total disgrace for someone like Mr. Smith.
I took the gifts and gave a polite thanks.
"Thanks for your trouble, Butler. Please also pass my thanks to Oliver," I said.
Butler bowed and said, "The emperor said there will be a banquet tonight in the palace to celebrate the new graduates. He requests that you and Mr. Smith attend together."
Together, huh.
Oliver was definitely trying to warn me.
He wanted to make sure we stayed harmonious as a couple and hoped I'd drop the idea of divorce.
I nodded to Butler. "Got it."
After Butler left, my maid Emma was so mad she actually started stomping her feet.
"Princess, Mr. Smith is just too much! He ignored you for seven years, and now that you want a divorce, he's the one who went crying to the emperor first?" Emma fumed.
"He's not the one playing dirty here," I said, glancing at the courtyard full of gifts and letting out a soft laugh. "He's just trying to save face as the Prime Minister."
Royal gifts are basically the emperor's way of showing where he stands.
With Oliver refusing to let us divorce, Mike got to save face.
He never cared what I, the Princess, really thought.
Emma was still fuming for me. "But..."
"No buts," I cut her off. "Oliver called us to the banquet, so we'll go."
Divorce can't be rushed.
We just have to find the perfect timing—when Oliver has no choice but to agree.
By evening, Mike was back at the estate.
He'd changed out of his official robes and into a moon-white silk robe, which made him look even more noble and otherworldly.
We rode together in the carriage to the palace, not saying a word the whole way.
The carriage was cramped, and the clean, herbal scent on him seemed to seep into every corner, filling my senses.
I felt a bit uneasy and quietly shifted to the side.
His gaze seemed to linger on me for a moment, then shifted away just as quickly.
"Forgive me for my behavior yesterday," he said suddenly, his voice low.
He spoke up, his voice low.
I didn't respond.
He continued, "We're in this together as husband and wife. I hope you won't mention divorce again, Princess."
His tone wasn't up for discussion—it was simply informing me.
There was an air of authority that left no room for argument.
I let out a cold laugh inside.
So this is what he came up with after thinking about it all night?' I thought.
Not an apology, not an explanation—just a warning.
I pulled back the curtain and watched the city blur past outside.
"Relax, Mr. Smith. I won't mention divorce again—at least not until I find a reason even you can't turn down," I said coolly.
My words dropped the temperature in the carriage right back to freezing.
He stayed silent.
The banquet was held in the palace's grandest hall.
The hall was ablaze with light, music filled the air, and the newly minted scholars were all smiles, clinking glasses with the court officials.
When Mike and I walked in, the whole place went quiet for a second.
Every single pair of eyes turned to look at us.
Some were stunned, some were curious, and some were just plain jealous.
Mike walked with unwavering focus, escorting me to our table.
Oliver sat at the main seat, and when he saw us, he gave a warm, approving smile.
By the time the banquet was halfway through, the party was in full swing.
Mia Wilson, the Minister of Personnel's daughter, strolled over with a wine glass in hand.
She was just eighteen, at that sweet and lively age, her eyes boldly fixed on Mike.
"Mr. Smith, let me toast you," she said, her voice soft and carrying a hint of flirtation.
Mike gave her a slight nod, raised his glass, and drank it all in one go.
A blush crept up on Mia's cheeks.
Then she glanced at me, a subtle hint of challenge flickering in her eyes.
"I've always heard how devoted you and Mr. Smith are, Princess. Seeing you together today, you really do seem like a perfect match," she said.
But the look in her eyes was sharp, laced with venom.
"I can't help but be a little curious," she added.
She paused, her voice just loud enough for the nearby tables to hear.
"You and Mr. Smith have been married for seven years now. So... why is there still no child?"
That was a ruthless question—it cut right to the heart.
The whole hall was abuzz with murmurs.
Everyone's eyes landed on me, some full of pity, others just waiting for the drama to unfold.
A Princess who's been childless after seven years of marriage? That's an embarrassment to the entire royal family.
My grip on the wine glass tightened.
I could feel Mike stiffen beside me for a split second.
I thought he'd do what he always did—just say it's a family matter and not anyone else's concern.
He'd keep up that paper-thin facade of respectability between us.
But he didn't.
He just cast a brief, detached glance at Mia, his voice cold and distant.
"Mia, watch your words," he said.
There it is again—watch your words,' I thought.
Those same three words, as always.'
His words barely scratched the surface—so light, so meaningless, like he didn't even bother to defend me.
He didn't lift a finger to help me out.
To everyone watching, that was as good as admitting it.
Admitting there was trouble in our marriage.
And of course, everyone assumed the problem was me—the Princess.
In that instant, I felt my heart hit rock bottom.'