Divorce Manual

Chapter 17

"May I ask if there's something that you're looking for?"

I shrug my shoulders slightly at her probing question after she has recovered from the surprise. "Just?"

"What?"

Is the word just shocking to you?

"No, I thought I was being too harsh on her."

It seems that my words have appeased Catherine, who's been on edge while forcing herself to be polite in front of me.

Then, what is your plan?

All the possibilities run through my head.

"Libby has been sent to the ranch."

She clears her throat and says sharply, pointing her chin upward.

"Ranch?"

"Yes."

"She's a maid from the city, so it must be hard to be in such a place like that."

"She's a child who's done something impolitely against you. Therefore, she needs to be made an example of for other children."

"Hmm."

I tilt my head at her unexpected response. I thought it would end with a few days of suspension or a pay cut.

The ranch.

It's really is the worst place of all.

Because this world is similar to the medieval times, the messy and unsanitary conditions of the ranch are indescribable. It's very easy to get sick. Just cleaning the cow's body or picking up the poop on the ranch floor is too hard for the weak maids to handle.

But she left her close associate to a place like that.

So you've left her there for 15 days?

Frankly speaking, I couldn't believe it after how Catherine has reacted previously.

"Then, is she still at the ranch?"

I'll have to check with my own eyes.

"Yes, your grace. For the time being there, her probation—"

"It must be hard because she's never done it before."

"I think punishment should be hard."

There's a lapse of silence.

Gentlemen, this is what we call a gapbunssa (a feeling or mood change after something's said).

Catherine's comment is so out of the ordinary that the atmosphere becomes quieter as she's lost in her thoughts. She also seems to miss the intention behind my words.

Otherwise—you wouldn't have laughed so softly and so proudly.

The smile on her face, as if she really doesn't know anything, looks genuine.

Is that not what you really want to say?

The words get stuck in my throat.

"Haha." I then give an awkward laugh. It doesn't make sense to discuss common sense with a person who has none. I'd then become strange. "Yes, right."

What should I do?

Just imagining being here and trying to survive for the next year and a half among these people make my temple pounds heavily.

"It'll never happen again."

However, I don't want to get mixed with Catherine, a person who has tried to choke me by the throat while faking a smile to my face.