The End of a Fake Marriage

Episode 03. Damn You Alexander

Crash!

“Oh no, I’m sorry! What do I do now? I’ll clean it up right away!”

If it weren’t for his long, black monk’s robe, he would have looked just like the local oddball. Renee clutched her forehead and sighed deeply. About 19 years ago, at the young age of 17, her uncle had chosen the path of a monk and had never looked back, dedicating himself wholeheartedly. He was undoubtedly a good person—kind, naive about the ways of the world, and innocent… Yes, he was indeed kind. But…

“How can you be so impractical?! We still haven’t paid off the last desk you bought, and now a blackboard? A blackboard? And what’s this about 200 boxes of chalk?”

“I-I’m sorry! But it was such a bargain, you see. They were offering a 40% discount, so I just couldn’t resist…”

“Bill Chander is the guy who always talks about 40 percent off! Did you believe that guy again?”

“I’m sorry, Renee! oh my! I don’t even know anything about the world!”

Roderick Hazlin fell as if sliding at the feet of his nephew, who was 13 years younger than him, and cried out for his hands. Renee’s fists, which she was clenching tightly, were shaking.

‘Should I just hit him once?’

‘Can’t I just kick it once?’

‘What if I grab the collar and shake it? okay.’

Even that head of hair that looks comfortable in the hand……

‘…Never mind. It’s not worth wasting my energy.’

Renee slumped down in her chair with her shoulders relaxed. The credit to Chander Lumber Company was already 33.8 million Renin. The annual budget for the mansion, which was saved with great care, was 20 million Renin. It was a huge amount of money that far exceeded that amount. Renee held her throbbing head. My uncle lived as a monk for 20 years and then suddenly left, so his economic sense was completely lost. It was all the more so because he had enjoyed everything his family had to offer when it was the wealthiest. I’m so short of money.

Cousin Binchester, who ran a soap factory, bought Renee’s land for a generous price, saying he wanted to expand the factory. It was only two months ago that he managed to raise a surplus of 22 million Renin by selling a part of Whitehall land to Binchester. I felt like I could finally breathe a little easier, but even if I used all that money to pay off my debt, it wasn’t enough. Renee closed her eyes tightly, and the words that Bill Chander had flirted with last week came to mind.

“Renee, you know the debt is still debt, right?”

“If you don’t pay it off within a month, the interest will increase by 50%. Return the goods?”

“What are you talking about?”

“They’re practically used up, how can we resell them?”

“Oh, come on! Just become my wife, Renee. I’ll write off the remaining debt as your dowry. If you give me two sons, I’ll even renovate that poorly built orphanage of yours! I’ll get some of the kids’ good jobs at the lumber company too. Isn’t that great? Ah!”

‘That damned “Ah! Ah! Ah!’

Bill Chander, a man nearing forty, was a divorced father of two daughters. He’d been married three times, and except for his first wife, none of the marriages lasted more than two years before the women ran away. Rumor had it that he had some seriously perverted demands in bed. Rene shuddered at the thought. The idea of being tied to Bill Chandler was revolting. His greasy, opportunistic demeanor made her skin crawl. She’d rather deal with a thousand unpaid bills than marry that sleazy man.

Rene forced herself to focus. She needed a solution, and quickly. The financial strain was unbearable, but giving in to Chandler’s proposal was out of the question. She had to think of another way to secure the funds or pay off the debts. Her mind raced through possibilities, but nothing seemed viable in their current situation. As she sat there, overwhelmed by the weight of responsibility, a knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. These are truly ridiculous demands, such as asking her to sweep the chimney naked, tying her to a bedpost and beating her with a horsewhip, or making her wear a tiny dress that a 12-year-old would wear and setting her up outside.

I recognized Renee from the time she was over 18 when she carefully started telling me nonsense like she was joking, how her clothes were so ripe that they would explode, and how she liked the man she had met with three wives to handle that level……

‘Crazy guy.’

Rather than becoming that guy’s fourth wife, it was better to pretend to be crazy, run to the royal palace with my hair down, and beg to borrow some money.

“…… It’s Renee. I got this by selling some of my fountain pens and clothes.”

Roderick, who was hesitant as he watched his nephew say nothing, quietly held out his pocket. There were six 100,000 renin notes, six 10,000 renin notes, and 30 shillings.

“……”

She knew. This was all her uncle had. This man had literally scraped together every penny, down to his last pair of underwear… But that just made it all the more suffocating and painful for her. With a sigh, Renee grabbed the bills her uncle offered and stood up abruptly.

“Before I come back, make sure to process all these receipts. And go through the land register to find people who haven’t paid their tenant fees. Also, review the bank pamphlets thoroughly and make a comparison chart of interest rates for each type.”

“R-right now? Oh, okay! I’ll do it right now, yes!”

Roderick Hazlin scrambled to grab the pile of papers and sat down at the desk. Renee glared at him with a stern look before storming out of the office with thundering footsteps. Her chest felt like it was going to burst from the pressure. She needed to cool off.

***

Psssh—

Along with the sound of air escaping, white foam bubbled up. Renee quickly put her lips to the narrow neck of the bottle and gulped down the lukewarm beer.

“Ah, that’s good.”

Wiping her wet lips with her fist, she crouched down and stared at the sea beyond the sandy beach.

Beer was a drink her grandfather had often enjoyed. It was her grandfather, Felix Hazlin, who had first introduced her to the taste of beer.

“Hahaha. How does it taste, Renee? I prefer this to expensive, fine liquor. If you know the taste of beer, you know the taste of travel. Indeed.”

To Renee, who had never left Whitehall in her life, these were incredibly romantic words.

‘The taste of travel.’ “What is that, grandpa? Is this bitter and unpleasant taste really the taste of travel?”

“Oh, now that I think about it, I’ve only left Whitehall once. sixteen. A train running towards Kaliba. My heart pounding as I ran towards an unfamiliar place. The first time I tried makeup. A foolish excitement that promised me that I would surprise you. And the cold and heartless rejection of being kicked out without even seeing a single hair of your head.”

Renee, who was thinking back to that day, which is now quite blurry, burst into laughter.

When I thought about it, it really did resemble the taste of beer. The more you swallow, the more bitter your throat becomes.

Just 10 years ago, she could never have imagined that her life would become this difficult……

Indeed, no one could have guessed that such a terrible war would break out so suddenly. Looking back, three years have already passed since the war that seemed like it would never end, ended.

My grandfather was right when he said that living is like a sailboat sitting on the sea.

There is no way to predict when and where we will encounter a storm or whether we will reach land safely with God’s protection.

“…… So, this crisis will end someday.”

Let’s endure. Endure it. Just endure it.

It was time to unconsciously mumble and put my mouth to the beer bottle again. The sound of heavy footsteps on the sand came closer and closer to her.

“Is there anyone who would come around here?”

Renee poured the remaining beer deep into her throat, thinking of the people remaining in the mansion. The lukewarm and bitter taste was full of flavor today. The footsteps grew closer and closer, and an unfamiliar shadow fell over her small shadow, sprawled on the white sand, staring blankly out to sea. The thick smell of cigarettes mixes with the blowing sea breeze.

‘A very, very foreign scent.’

She turns to look back at the shadow’s owner with a strange sense of déjà vu, but a large man sits down beside her.

He offers her a cordial greeting. “Hello, Renee.”

A grown man’s voice, vaguely familiar, yet completely different. A gleam of astonishment slowly spreads through her wide orange eyes, the way it does when you’re confronted with something you can’t believe.

‘This can’t be happening.’

The oily eyes that stare back at her are crooked, and a wisp of cigarette smoke drifts between smiling lips.

His eyes were a brilliant blue, sparkling more beautifully than the sea beyond the white sands. That same blue gaze had adorned countless magazines and newspapers, accompanied by a smile that was both beautiful and aloof.

“It’s been a while,” he said.

He was her damned first love, the one she had sworn she would never see again, the one she had vowed to forget. The nightmare of her first journey. Renee’s breath began to tremble uncontrollably.

“Do you remember me?”

“ …Of course. How could I ever forget you, you damned Alexander?”

***

Renee, who was busy pulling out books from an old bookshelf to check behind them, suddenly lifted her head to check the clock.

Eleven o’clock.

By coincidence, she had checked the time exactly on the hour. It was the arrival time for Alexander, as the secretaries had previously informed her.