**Chapter 51 — Did You Think I'd Simply Let You Go?**
*I Ended Up Living Next Door to My Ex-Husband*
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"...I finally found you."
The words had barely left his mouth before Cedric swung down from the horse in a single motion and came straight toward me — eyes fierce, jaw set, moving with the single-minded urgency of someone who had been running on adrenaline and very little else for the past several hours.
Each step closed the distance between us, and with each one, an inexplicable pressure gathered in the air around him.
"Cedric, how did you—"
His hand closed over my shoulder before I could finish.
The grip was firm — not rough, but unmistakably certain, as though he needed the contact to confirm something. A brief, faint wave of relief passed through his eyes as they found my face.
Then it was gone, and the sharpness returned.
"Rebecca."
His hand tightened.
"Did you truly think I would simply let you leave like that?"
His voice was low and winter-cold. The skin beneath his eyes was shadowed with sleeplessness, his hair — always immaculately kept — disheveled in a way I had never seen before. Even his eyes, usually so clear, carried the dull weight of exhaustion.
I blinked at him.
"What do you mean, *leave*—"
Cedric dragged a hand roughly through his hair and let out a breath.
"Answer me."
The harshness in his expression wavered, then gave way to something that looked, briefly and painfully, like anguish.
"Did you really try to run away with another man?"
The muscle in his jaw jumped as he caught himself — as if the words, spoken aloud, had reignited something in him all over again.
"If you did it to punish me, say so. I'll accept that. I'll endure whatever you see fit to give me."
I stared at him.
He was not making sense. Any of it.
The first priority, clearly, was to calm him down before this became any more of a spectacle. I reached up and tried to gently remove his hand from my shoulder.
He noticed immediately and held on more firmly, his gaze cooling.
"...Actually, it doesn't matter what answer you give."
The corner of his mouth curved into something that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"Even if you were trying to leave — I have no intention of letting you go quietly."
"Cedric." I kept my voice even. "Why are you here? And what is this about me leaving with another man?"
He exhaled — long, ragged, carrying the accumulated tension of someone who had been awake since before dawn running on nothing but fear and forward momentum.
"Don't pretend you don't know, Rebecca. Where were you going, dressed like that at dawn, with all of that luggage?"
Only then did I remember to look around.
Every villager in the square had their eyes fixed on us. This needed to stop before it spiraled further.
"Cedric, there's clearly been a misunderstanding, but this isn't the moment — can we please speak about it later, somewhere—"
"I don't care about misunderstandings." His grip didn't loosen. "Come back with me. That's all I'm asking. I won't demand explanations."
I stared at him.
This man had the most extraordinary talent for not listening when he had decided he already knew the answer.
I let my irritation show plainly on my face. Something in his expression shifted — a flicker of something almost chastened beneath the stubbornness — and he exhaled again.
"...I know." His voice dropped. "I know how cold I was to you, and I know it makes no sense for me to be standing here like this now. But Rebecca—"
I had had enough.
I removed his hand from my shoulder with deliberate firmness and gestured at the space around us.
"Cedric. Do you know where you are?"
He blinked. Looked around for the first time — truly looked, rather than scanning for threats.
"...Hm?"
As I had suspected: he had no idea. He had ridden here so focused on finding me that the location itself had barely registered.
He took in the villagers. The small houses. The faces watching him with a mixture of awe, confusion, and bewilderment. His gaze landed on Chief Devon, and he went still.
"Devon? What are you doing here?"
Devon raised an eyebrow.
Cedric continued his survey of the crowd and began, visibly, to reassemble the situation in his mind.
The maids were beaming. The villagers were gaping. My expression, I imagined, was somewhere between exasperation and disbelief.
The sound of hooves interrupted the silence — and then, at the village entrance, the unmistakable crest of the Twins family carriage came into view. Through the window, a small hand waved frantically.
"Your Highness! Here! Bianca is here too!"
The entire square turned to look. Everyone except Cedric, who seemed to have reached his limit for surprises and had simply stopped reacting to new ones.
The carriage pulled in and stopped. Before it had fully settled, the door flew open.
"Your Highness!"
Bianca launched herself across the square and directly into my arms. I caught her on instinct, and held her while the crowd erupted around us.
"Princess Bianca — she's embracing the Grand Duchess?"
"Didn't she used to cry if the Grand Duchess so much as looked at her?"
"Why is she clinging to *her*?"
Bianca pressed her face against my shoulder and spoke in a muffled, slightly reproachful voice.
"Your Highness. Where have you been since before dawn? You weren't leaving us, were you? Me and His Highness?"
"Leaving?" I looked between her and Cedric, genuinely at a loss. "Where did either of you get that idea?"
Chief Devon chose this moment to step forward with the quiet authority of someone who had watched enough chaos unfold and decided it was time to redirect it.
"Your Highness the Grand Duke." He inclined his head. "It's good to see you, though I confess the visit is unexpected. Might I ask what brings you here?"
Cedric turned to him, his expression suggesting he found this question equally baffling.
"Devon — what brings *you* here?"
I closed my eyes briefly.
"Cedric. This is Gray Zone Village."
He looked around again. Slower this time. And this time, it seemed to register — the faces, the community, the quiet markers of who these people were and where they had come from.
"Then you really weren't..." He stopped. Recalibrated. "You weren't running away?"
"Why would I run away? I haven't done anything worth running from."
I gave him a pointed look. He had the grace to clear his throat and glance away.
"I saw you leaving before dawn, dressed plainly, with a great deal of luggage. I thought—"
"I dressed plainly to avoid being recognized after what happened with Duke Bold. And the luggage was gifts." I turned and nodded to Mina.
Mina, visibly suppressing a smile, directed the maids to set the bundles down at Chief Devon's feet. One by one, the bags were arranged before him.
Chief Devon looked at the collection in front of him with an expression of slow-dawning bewilderment.
"All of this... you brought for us?"
"For the children, more specifically." I shifted Bianca in my arms and looked past him toward the little ones watching from the edges of the square. "Living this far up the mountain, I thought they might be short on certain things. Toys. Snacks. Things that children tend to like."
I glanced down at Bianca.
"Our Bianca is fond of things like that too."
Bianca giggled and tucked herself more firmly against me.
"Your Highness — you still haven't told me why you came all this way! I was beside myself since dawn!"
She was using her aggrieved voice, which meant she wasn't truly angry. I patted her back.
"I came to apologize to the people of this village."
Silence.
Cedric looked at me sharply. "Apologize? To the people here?"
"Yes. They were treated poorly because of me. Many of them lost positions they had worked hard for, through no fault of their own." I met the eyes of the villagers around us — some still hostile, some simply watching. "I know I have no right to ask for forgiveness. But I'd like the chance to try."
The villagers exchanged uncertain glances. As one, those glances drifted toward Chief Devon.
Devon said nothing.
Bianca, however, stepped neatly in front of him with small, purposeful footsteps.
"Deacon Devon! It's been such a long time!"
Devon's stern expression softened involuntarily, the way it tends to when faced with a determined child.
"Indeed it has, Princess. You've grown."
"I have!" Bianca clasped her hands together. "Devon, would you please just listen to Her Highness — just once? As a favor to me?"
"Princess, I appreciate your—"
"She's completely different now. I promise. She's kind to me even when I'm a bother, and she's gentle with all her staff, and she—" Bianca paused, reconsidered, and delivered her closing argument with great conviction: "She's just *different*, Devon. Please."
A murmur ran through the crowd.
Cedric stepped forward.
"Bianca's right." His voice was measured and quiet. "Rebecca has changed. More than I would have believed possible, had I not seen it myself. I'll stake my word on it."
The murmuring stilled.
Chief Devon stared at Cedric for a long, considering moment. That Cedric — of all people — was the one vouching for Rebecca appeared to have struck him somewhere unexpected.
Cedric continued, unhurried.
"I understand you have no reason to take that on faith. I didn't, at first, either. Trust built from words alone has its limits, and I won't insult you by pretending otherwise."
He paused, pressing a thumb thoughtfully to his chin.
"So perhaps, Devon — something like this."
At that moment, Bianca stepped forward again, clearly having rehearsed this part. She glanced back once at her nanny and Mina, who both gave her encouraging nods.
She took a breath. Squared her small shoulders.
"Devon." Her voice rang out with the full force of a child who has decided to be brave. "Please let the two of them stay in the village tonight!"
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