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Duchess Bovary was crying on the stairs of the shop.
"I don't know how many times this was your last relationship.
You don't even want to hide it anymore."
“You've been through a lot, ma'am...”
I sat down on the stairs next to the Duchess and patted her back.
My consolation encouraged her to feel comfortable, and she unleashed all the resentment and anger she had been harboring.
The Duke's eleventh new mistress, Stephanie, was an unknown stage actress twenty years younger than the Duchess.
"She showed up at this sweet shop without realizing it.
I didn't want to see her, so I politely told her that this wasn't her place and she had to leave.
She stared at me for a long time before she sent her maid to deliver this letter to me."
I crumpled up the tear-stained scrap of paper.
I carefully opened the letter, which was torn like a piece of paper, and I read it while furrowing my eyebrows at its contents.
[Claire, you're the one who doesn't know where you are.
The Duke of Bovary's body and soul are mine, as are his status and wealth.
Isn't it true that you, Duchess who has no affection for the Duke, are using my fortune to frequent this upscale department store?
I will return the insult I received from the Duke today.
There will soon come a day when you won't be able to use 'Bovary' after your own name.
– Stephanie Bovary]
“You are truly astonishingly bold, Miss Stephanie.”
I clicked my tongue at her ignorant and reckless provocation.
Duchess Bovary exclaimed as I carefully folded the letter again, trying to prevent it from tearing.
“How dare you write to me on behalf of the Bovary family!
As if she were the Duchess!”
“That's right, Miss Stephanie has no rights to Bovary.”
“But do you know what happened after that?”
A cold sarcasm appeared on the Duchess's face.
She continued in a sharp voice.
“Soon the manager of the sweet shop appeared, looking embarrassed, and told me that I had to vacate the place.
I felt very embarrassed!”
"the boss?"
“That insolent girl used my husband to do this.
He is the owner of this shop.
She showed me who was closer to Bovary!”
Duchess Bovary trembled.
She cried, filled with shame and anger.
“I knew he was a playboy ever since we were married.
But I put up with it for twenty years, remembering the duties and dignity of a lady of the duchy...heck.”
“You have performed this role perfectly, Madam.
You deserve the title of the most influential person in Imperial society.”
“I'm so angry that I can't take it anymore.
I'm still working hard for the Duke...”
She said that today's meeting was also intended for women from families with close working relationships with the Duke of Bovary.
The Duchess trembled sadly.
I held her hand tightly and whispered to her.
“It is not your fault, madam.
It is the fault of the Duke of Bovary who insults and humiliates you instead of acknowledging you.”
The Duchess stared at me with a complicated expression.
Then she smiled slightly.
“I feel relieved to be able to say this.”
“I'm glad you feel this way.”
I answered in a gentle voice, as if I was trying to calm her down.
The Duchess seemed to have stopped crying and regained her composure.
She stared at the napkin in her hand, perhaps feeling anxious about what she had confessed to me.
“I've never told anyone this before...
Strangely enough, even though it's my first time meeting you, ma'am, you seem to make one feel at ease.”
“Many say the same thing.”
I gave the Duchess a gentle smile.
It was understandable, as these were counseling skills I had honed while dealing with clients seeking divorce from cheating spouses.
Duchess Bovary bowed her head towards me.
“Please forgive my rudeness to the Archduchess.
This may seem like an excuse, but it was not entirely my will.”
“It was not your will...?”
I asked with a puzzled expression, and the lady lowered her teary eyes.
“My husband is from His Highness the Crown Prince’s class.
He threatened to stay away from Archduchess Richard.
So I respected his opinion.”
The Duchess was silent, a regretful expression on her face.
Then, as if determined, she clenched her hands.
“But now I don’t want to live with him anymore.
Even if it means giving up everything I enjoyed.”
I stared at her after she finished speaking.
I immediately entered a state of optimism.
"Oh, ma'am.
I've been waiting for that."
"Yes?"
“I can help you.
Quickly and accurately.”
She looked at me, surprised by this sudden turn of events.
With a clear look, I took out my notebook and pen.
“How much revenge do you want?”
“Revenge...what does that mean...”
“If you wanted to take revenge on someone for your psychological suffering, who would it be?”
I raised my pen, my gaze sharp.
Duchess Bovary stammered at this sudden turn of events.
“Well, uh…my husband and the women he dated, right?”
“Okay.
The scope of revenge will be your husband and all the women he had affairs with.”
I quickly wrote down her request in my notebook.
Then I turned to her, who blinked, and continued.
"If you have what you have now, you don't have to give it up.
I will make sure your possessions are divided to the greatest extent."
“So... you're saying you'll help me with my divorce?”
I nodded with a smile, tore the paper from the notebook I had finished writing, and extended it to Duchess Bovary.
“Of course, and I will do everything for you, Duchess.”
Duchess Bovary's wide eyes fell on the last line of the note, which was double-lined and highlighted.
Divorce + alimony + division of property = zero gold!
∗ ∗ ∗
The Duchess Bovary, who had grown more friendly towards me after our chance meeting in front of the pastry shop, entrusted me with the work relating to her divorce.
I agreed to stay at the Bovary Palace as a temporary guest to help her.
The Archduke seemed upset at the news of my absence from home for a while.
From his perspective, he seemed upset that I was away because of another client.
“No matter what case I take, you always come first!”
It was only after I shouted 'My first Archduke' that I obtained his approval to reassure him.
After a few days.
In the reception room of the Duke of Bovary's palace.
Duchess Bovary's hand, which was meticulously writing down my words on luxurious paper, stopped.
I asked her, who was much older than me, to check on me as well.
“Elena, didn’t you say you would help me divorce me?”
Her face was contorted with worry, as if no matter how much she thought about it, it still seemed strange to her.
I smiled at her, trying to reassure her.
"Absolutely.
Writing a response to his eleventh lover's letter is the first step toward a successful divorce."
“But this...this is not what someone filing for divorce writes?”
Duchess Bovary glanced nervously at the sentence she was writing in her elegant handwriting, forgetting all the rules of aristocratic etiquette.
[Dear Miss Stephanie.
I know very well that you and my husband, the Duke of Bovary, enjoy a life of leisure.
He often continues these fleeting encounters.
The first was Miss Rosaline, and the Duke presented her with a seven-carat diamond ring and twelve dresses.
The second was Miss Lillian, and the Duke gave her her living expenses for a fifteen-month engagement and a yacht.
The third was... the fourth was... (etc.)
The tenth, Miss Patricia, was given a villa by the Duke in the countryside.
I wonder how much affection the Duke showed to Miss Stephanie, eleven.
The Duke may soon have a twelfth mistress, but I will remain his wife, and I still love him very much.
Of course, I think the Duke esteems me more than Miss Stephanie.
I will always be here.
-Claire Bovary]
I nodded satisfied, looking at the perfectly written letter.
“Absolutely not.
This is the kind of letter a woman seeking a divorce should write.”
“But it's as if I acknowledge all of that man's mistresses...”
The Duchess could not continue, for fear appeared on her face at the mere thought.
I continued my speech on any topic.
“It looks like the Duchess is still in love with her husband?”
“Yes...”
Duchess Bovary continued, a look of worry on her face.
“I seem to have literally copied what my parents always said.”
“The Zacharias family opposes your divorce, right?”
“They are worried that the long-standing union between our families will fall apart because of me.”
The Duchess sighed dryly.
Claire Zacharias, the Duchess's maiden name.
This is also why she put up with her husband's betrayal for so long.
The House of Bovary and the House of Zacharias, the two most influential ducal families in the empire, had been at war for decades.
Tired of the hostility, they concluded a political marriage for peace, and the result was the Duke and Duchess of Bovary.
“My marriage was strictly a family affair.
To show trust, I established a joint venture, identifying the main family interests.”
“I get it.”
I answered, flipping through the pages of documents listing the origins of the ducal family.
“After the death of the former Duke of Bovary, my husband, who inherited the title of Duke, took over the management of the joint venture.
He is deliberately excluding me.”
“Maybe you're worried that if you file for divorce first, you might lose your business rights.”
“That's right.
My husband denies the achievements I've made in the Duchy family.”
“This is why you need me.”
When I looked at her with a deep, confident look, her smile returned slightly.
But worry remained on her face.
“Won't this letter make me look ridiculous and look down on me?”
“No, that's the gist of it.”