The Returned Husband Refuses to Divorce - Chapter 23

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Ines clenched her fists, pressing her fingernails hard into her palms.
The sharp sting brought her mind into focus.
“…Yes, it’s been so long. I hope you’ve been well all this time.”
Etiquette was necessary, but she couldn’t afford to sound servile.
Right now she existed here not as Ines, but as the Duchess of Evanhardt.
“You’ve arrived early. I was under the impression there was still some time remaining.”
Glancing to the side, she spotted a butler standing beside Helien.
The butler leaned in and whispered to Ines.
“I informed the head maid, but she wasn’t here…”
It seemed she’d returned in such haste that they’d missed each other.
‘Composure. Stay composed.’
Four envoys in all.
Only one of them truly demanded her attention: Helien Bron.
“From now on, I shall see to your comfort. This way, please.”
Ines signaled the butler with a glance.
“Tell His Grace I’m entertaining guests.”
The butler bowed and withdrew.
Ines led the delegation toward the Reception Room.
She felt eyes on her back.
‘It’s nothing. I’ve handled far worse than this.’
Though she had never become a Saint Candidate, Ines had been an exemplary student during her time at the Temple.
She could manage courtesies like this with her eyes closed.
A moment later, Helien’s voice drifted from behind.
“You haven’t forgotten your manners.”
“I learned from someone remarkable for quite some time.”
“Your speech has grown quite polished as well.”
“Living as a duchess requires such skills.”
Helien’s eyebrows twitched slightly.
Ines hid her cold fingertips, trembling with tension, within her sleeves.
She could not afford to show weakness here.
Even after entering the Reception Room, Helien’s gaze remained fixed upon Ines.
“You’ve changed greatly, Ines.”
Ines paused for a moment, then quickly composed her expression.
“Five years have passed. It’s only natural.”
“The you I knew then would never have spoken to me like that.”
Ines picked up her teacup and took a delicate sip.
Her hands no longer trembled.
‘I am no longer a Saint Candidate.’
Steeling herself, Ines set down the cup slowly.
“The past and present are different things.”
Helien’s eyes narrowed.
After a moment, she spoke with an enigmatic expression.
“I see.”
Ines added calmly,
“And in official settings, I would prefer to be addressed as the Duchess of Evanhardt.”
The priests around them shifted uncomfortably.
Ines did not flinch, meeting Helien’s gaze directly and steadily.
This was not the Temple—this was the Duchy of Evanhardt.
And she was its rightful mistress.
“Was my request unreasonable?”
Silence hung in the air.
Then the corners of Helien’s mouth rose ever so slightly.
“Understood, Duchess of Evanhardt.”
Her response was surprisingly compliant.
‘…I did it.’
Ines released a quiet breath of relief inwardly.
‘Just a little longer. Hold on.’
Her heart was turbulent. She felt pride in her own boldness before Helien, yet some corner of her remained diminished, uncertain.
“First, allow me to express my gratitude for traveling so far north. I am…”
That was when it happened.
Bang!
The Reception Room door swung open.
“……Zecade?”
He stood in the doorway.
His breathing was steady, his clothes unmarred.
Yet Ines sensed, oddly enough, that he had come here in considerable haste.
His expression was tenser than usual.
Blue eyes swept across the room, landing first on Ines.
Only after examining her with meticulous concern—as if checking for any sign of injury—did his gaze turn toward Helien.
In that moment.
“What are you doing here.”
The frigid tone of his voice froze the air itself.
Helien answered with composure.
“I arrived ahead of schedule and was shown in by the staff.”
“I told you to wait in the Guest Chamber upon arrival, did I not.”
“I happened to encounter your wife on the way to the Guest Chamber and could not avoid it.”
“Does the Temple not honor its commitments?”
Zecade’s eyes turned glacial.
“I was quite clear that I would not permit a Private Audience.”
Ines stiffened.
‘A Private Audience?’
Then she understood.
He had been determined to prevent himself and the Temple representative from being alone together.
“Zecade.”
Ines called his name with deliberate firmness.
Only then did he look at her.
“I’m fine.”
“But——”
“I said I would receive her myself. Nothing happened.”
Ines smiled softly.
“So please don’t be angry.”
Zecade studied her for a long moment.
A suffocating silence settled over the Reception Room.
“……Very well.”
At last Zecade exhaled slowly.
Then, turning back to Helien, he spoke with chilling finality.
“The banquet begins this evening. We shall meet then.”
It was effectively a dismissal.
Helien nodded without objection.
“Of course.”
Ines rose from her seat.
“Then I shall see you shortly.”
Helien and the Temple attendants withdrew from the Reception Room.
“…….”
Helien’s eyes gleamed softly in the darkness, having witnessed something unexpected.
* * *
Once outside the Reception Room, Ines cast a sidelong glance at Zecade walking beside her.
‘That was strange.’
He was always somewhat unconventional, but just now it had been pronounced.
Throughout the generations, House of Evanhardt had maintained cool relations with the Temple, yet never openly confronted them.
But moments ago, Zecade had seemed ready to throw the Temple representatives out bodily.
To act so recklessly was to invite trouble—even for a savior of the realm—and yet……
“Zecade.”
“Yes.”
“Why did you act that way just now?”
He fell silent for a moment, then reluctantly opened his mouth under the weight of her gaze.
“Are you not uncomfortable in their presence.”
Ines froze.
“……How did you know that?”
Did he know something she didn’t?
Zecade’s face turned cold.
“On the way back from the Capital, I heard plenty about what they say of you, madam.”
Yet Ines found herself reassured by his response.
‘He doesn’t know about Helien.’
She had no intention of hiding the past, but neither did she wish to lay bare the old wounds of childhood.
How could she explain that she’d failed to endure such harsh instruction, that she’d feared her teacher?
“I’m used to it. It’s not as though they’re saying anything untrue.”
“There is nothing acceptable about it.”
His answer was firm.
Zecade stopped walking.
“I did not place you here today to appease the Temple.”
His blue eyes fixed directly on Ines.
“I did it to show who the mistress of House of Evanhardt is.”
Ines found herself looking away.
“……Still, there’s no need to go that far.”
“For me, there is.”
That look again—so earnest she couldn’t brush it off as jest.
Too sincere to laugh away.
“You are worthy of respect at every moment. This is nothing more than the treatment you deserve.”
……Why did he do this for her?
It had to be because of the Title Succession.
Each time she met his eyes, Ines fell under the illusion that she was truly cherished, and it left her heart oddly unsettled.
“Thank you.”
Ines offered a slight smile.
There was nothing else she could say.
* * *
“What a sight.”
The young priestess Mariel pursed her lips.
“Did you see that woman earlier? The way she carries herself?”
“The Duchess of House of Evanhardt?”
“Just Ines Chartier, really.”
Within the Temple, Ines’s reputation was nearly ruined.
A failed Saint Candidate who never awakened proper Saint Power.
The sister who envied the great Saint Elise.
A woman who abandoned the Temple to marry a worldly nobleman.
It was the truth Mariel had heard repeated countless times.
“Seems she’s quite pleased with herself now that she’s become a duchess.”
“Mariel.”
At the cold voice, she flinched.
It was Helien.
“Mind your tongue.”
“……Yes.”
“This is the castle of House of Evanhardt. Show the duchess proper courtesy.”
Mariel bowed her head reluctantly.
Yet her displeasure remained.
‘Who does she think she is.’
Compared to the Saint, she was nothing at all.
Mariel was one of several junior priestesses recently recruited directly under Saint Elise, and she took considerable pride in that distinction.
Her participation in this delegation to the distant North had come solely because Elise had asked her.
“I’m asking you, please. Go and see how your sister is managing. I worry constantly that she’s so far away in that distant North without a single letter……”
‘The Saint truly has such a gentle heart. How could anyone call such a person blood kin to that……’
Mariel grumbled, her lips pouting.
In truth, she longed to return to the Capital where the Grand Temple stood.
It was then.
“Excuse me……are you not the ones from the Temple?”
A maid approached with a bright, eager smile.
“I am Julia. I’ve come to attend to you priestesses. Please, if there is anything you need, do not hesitate to ask.”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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