Chapter 37 - So the day to meet Ania again could be a little closer.
“Milord….”
As I returned to the mansion with a heavy heart, Allensia, who greeted me, seemed like she might burst into tears at any moment, with her eyes welling up.
“What’s the matter?”
“There’s a letter from the Brontë family….”
With an anxious heart, I looked at the letter Allensia handed to me.
A letter with the official seal of the Brontë family…
As I read its contents, my heart swelled.
I wondered if it was a letter from Ania, but as I took in the letter’s contents, I couldn’t help but sink down.
『As of today, the marriage between Ania Brontë, the eldest daughter of the Brontë family, and Edward Radner, the eldest son of the Radner family, has been annulled.
– Valentine Brontë 』
I couldn’t even begin to guess what had happened.
To annul a marriage.
Something was wrong.
Thinking so, I immediately ordered a verification of the letter’s authenticity, but the seal alone crushed my hopes.
I immediately wrote and sent two letters.
One is for Ania, and the other is for Eldrigan Lionheart.
And a hellish week passed.
The first response that arrived was from Eldrigan’s letter.
『An official letter has been sent from the Brontë family declaring the annulment of the marriage, and a letter has also come from Ania stating that she no longer loves Edward Radner and wishes to annul the marriage with him.』
I couldn’t believe it, so I went to the Brontë family, but I was turned away at the door.
“The master has ordered not to allow anyone from the Radner family in.”
I shouted in frustration, but I couldn’t set foot on Brontë’s land.
There was no reply to the letter I sent to Ania.
As if… Ania Brontë had completely forgotten me.
.
And another week passed.
Once again, a letter arrived from the Brontë family.
It was a letter announcing the official marriage between Ania Brontë and Julio Redbury.
In disbelief, I tried to confirm the truth somehow, but I could do nothing.
The response that arrived from Ania contained only one sentence, asking me not to look for her anymore.
“In the end, is this how it will be….”
Hellish time passed.
I denied and denied it, but I had to admit:
Ania Brontë… never loved me from the start.
To her, Edward was not someone she loved but merely a simple toy.
Just as it was depicted in the novel.
It was devastating, but I accepted it.
Didn’t I already know it would end up like this anyway?
Didn’t I already know that the end of this relationship was destruction?
I just denied it and turned my head away alone.
But it still hurt.
The time I spent trying to meet Ania felt empty.
For two weeks, I lived like a dead person.
I rejected the meals prepared by Allensia, barely eating, barely moving from my room day and night.
Edward’s body reflected in the mirror was pitiful.
His once disciplined body now seemed dejected, his shoulders slumped, and his unkempt beard was scruffy.
Dark circles under his eyes were like a heavy burden of pain.
“……”
However, there was still belief in Ania.
Ania is not that kind of woman.
The Ania I knew…
She’s not the kind of woman to maliciously hurt me to that extent.
But another letter arrived from the Brontë family.
A letter stating that Ania Brontë and Julio Redbury had annulled their engagement.
It was then that I finally realized.
I meant nothing to Ania Brontë.
Just like those other men, I was just a man to play with.
But I was a man worth playing with for longer than those men.
Once I admitted it all, my heart felt at ease.
The emotion called love is not eternal.
It’s a feeling that eventually cools down.
So I will forget you.
Ania Brontë.
What you gave me wasn’t love… I will forget the fact that I loved you too.
I will somehow survive… and return to where I used to live.
But it hurts.
It hurts so much it feels like my heart is crumbling.
I couldn’t just discard all the memories like thorns that had been stuck in me.
I pulled out all those thorns.
But in the process of pulling them out, holes were left behind.
Unhealable painful wounds.
***
Ania Brontë, just three days after being married to Julio Redbury for a week, one day slashed Julio’s face with a knife.
It was an action done unintentionally as he brought his dirty lips too close to her face while they were having a meal.
Fortunately, the cutlery wasn’t sharp enough to leave a significant scar, but the Redbury family lodged a formal complaint with the Brontë family.
In the end, the Brontë family had to pay the price for injuring the face of the second son of the Redbury family.
Along with compensation, they requested a divorce, and Valentine Brontë humbly accepted.
They knew from the beginning that it would end up like this when they forced the marriage.
Ania, taking after her mother, was more stubborn than anyone else.
But it was an unavoidable decision.
The Brontë family was gradually losing its former glory.
It wasn’t just a problem unique to the Brontë family.
Times were changing.
With the advancement of technology, emerging entrepreneurs were amassing vast wealth, and as a result, the noble status of the aristocracy wasn’t as strong as it used to be.
Even though Valentine himself called himself an incompetent duke, he knew enough to know his position was still valuable.
He knew the monarchy would collapse sooner or later, and a new era would dawn.
So, the nobles had to stick together.
They had to maintain the nobility of their lineage by forging strong bonds between families.
Although using Ania weighed heavily on his conscience for that purpose, the world was not forgiving.
The Redbury family and many noble families were facing ruin due to business failures.
They had to survive in the changing times.
That was the heavy burden that Valentine Brontë, as the Duke Brontë, had to bear.
To protect his daughter.
For the sake of the many people working for the family.
And so, even after the annulment of the marriage with the Redbury family, Valentine Brontë married off his daughter several more times.
Of course, the outcome was always the same.
Ania did not welcome marriage and tried by all means to annul it.
Valentine Brontë was crumbling more and more.
He thought everything he had done was for the sake of the family and his daughter…
Both were gradually being destroyed.
After a long time, he went to visit his father’s tomb.
The late Duke Brontë.
He couldn’t help but feel so inadequate living under the achievements and glory his father had amassed.
“Father….”
He kneeled before the tomb of the late duke and lightly brushed the gravestone.
If only his incompetent self could follow even in his father’s footsteps, could he have made the family and his daughter happy?
Valentine shifted his gaze to beside his father’s tomb.
[Ryan Brontë]
It was the tomb of his son, who had passed away from illness fifteen years ago.
Unlike his incompetent self, his son had inherited his mother’s brilliance.
He had promised himself that he would pass on the family duties to his son when he grew up.
It would have been better than his incompetent self holding onto the title of duke.
But there was no way his son could come back to life.
Miracles like the dead returning to life didn’t exist in this world.
Valentine Brontë shed transparent tears in front of the two gravestones.
***
“Sir, may I come in?”
“Come in.”
I turned my chair and looked at the woman returning with a report in her hand.
She spoke with concern as she looked at the report in her hand.
“It’s about the factory expansion project… The Emperor sent a letter expressing concerns about the destruction of the northern forests.”
“And?”
“He wants to hear your opinion, milord.”
“Couldn’t he have spoken with the Crown Prince?”
“Prince Eldrigan shares the same opinion as the Emperor.”
I grumbled irritably.
When will they stop interfering with his life and ruining everything?
Now, they come and meddle in every little thing I do.
“Well then, at least give me some money. That’s what the royal family wants anyway, isn’t it? The northern forests and whatever else are just excuses. It’s all just a scheme to extort money from my pockets.”
“I’ll do that.”
“Give them enough, so they won’t bother me again.”
As the secretary bowed and left the room, the office finally fell silent.
Another morning arrived.
The view of the estate could be seen from a distance.
The sight of the brilliantly shining estate bathed in sunlight came into view.
The neatly arranged streets and the sight of the estate residents walking with happy expressions were visible.
“Ugh….”
Seeing that sight, his head throbbed painfully.
I took some pills from a shelf in the office and hastily swallowed them with water.
Then I picked up the phone and called my assistant.
“Fire the new personal physician we hired. Their medication only intensifies my headaches.”
“Yes. I’ll do as you say.”
“And for the western branch, since their recent performance was poor, I’ll go myself. Have a car ready.”
“I’ll make sure of it.”
As I impatiently hung up the receiver, the headache finally subsided.
I put on the coat hanging in the corner of the office and left the room.
People in suits followed closely behind him.
“Don’t follow me.”
“Yes, sir.”
As he descended from the mansion, a car with a design similar to the early Ford automobiles was waiting, and one of the waiting employees opened the door for him.
I naturally got into the car.
The soft feel of the seat was comforting.
“Let’s go.”
With a rumble, the car smoothly departed from the mansion. The view of the estate flashed by outside the window.
Two years had passed.
Ania Brontë.
It has been two years since I was betrayed by that woman.
The estate flourished.
The internal combustion engine I invented brought a sudden advancement to the empire, and my hands were filled with considerable money.
The estate surpassed the Redbury family’s previous state in just a year, and I even established a company named ‘Edward’ after myself.
It was a company that manufactured internal combustion engine automobiles.
Nobles, who used to ride carriages and slow trains just a few years ago, have now purchased Edward Motor Company’s automobiles.
Thanks to that, well-paved roads and Edward Motor Company’s cars could be seen all over the empire.
It was amusing.
Those individuals indulged in vanity even as their families declined.
“Hmm…..”
Nevertheless, I was gradually deteriorating.
The hole in my heart that I thought would be filled once I earned money remained empty.
Instead, it only seemed to grow larger, engulfing me.
“Ania Brontë….”
I still couldn’t shake her off.
I would never love that woman forever, until the day I die.
Even if someone held a knife to my throat and told me to love Ania Brontë…
I would never love her.
Yet, why did her face occasionally come to mind?
I still couldn’t understand why the image of that woman, who looked like she was about to collapse in front of the mansion, kept popping up in my mind.