She was divorced. Fuck.
“Haha… life…”
Vendia Rose’s body slid weakly down as she leaned against the carriage window.
Thud.
Half-collapsed on the seat, her empty eyes stared at the luggage piled across from her. She was in a carriage returning to her family’s estate after leaving the ducal house due to divorce—but it still didn’t feel real.
“Does that make sense? Divorce is that easy?!”
Yes. It had been easy.
In other novels, divorces took months. Even in the free democratic world she came from, there was usually a one-month waiting period for mutual divorce.
But here—here…
“Three weeks to get divorced. Haa… this is a conservative aristocratic world, but divorce is the most radical thing here?”
She let out a hollow laugh, completely dumbfounded.
From what she had heard, divorce in this world was supposed to be extremely complicated and time-consuming. Even if both parties agreed, the divorce application had to be submitted to the temple, and review alone took at least two weeks.
After review, the couple would be asked again if they still wanted to proceed. If they didn’t change their minds, the temple would allow them to break the vow they made before God. Then they would stand before God again and confess their wrongdoing.
After that, the documents would be sent to court, where another two to four weeks of review took place. Only after a court appearance and approval would a divorce judgment be issued.
Even after that, the couple had to stand before God once more and formally annul their marriage vows. Only then was the divorce complete.
Just hearing the process made it sound long and exhausting.
And she had completed all of it in just three weeks.
“Why? Wasn’t this clearly a regret story?”
Vendia clutched her head in confusion.
It had been two weeks and three days since she possessed this body.
When she opened her eyes in a feverish, aching body, she had become “Vendia.”
Honestly, she didn’t even know the exact title of this world’s novel. She had read too many works, and all the names were similar anyway.
Or rather… was this even a novel world?
She had many doubts, but based on the original owner’s remaining memories, she concluded it was a regret story.
“Vendia, sold off like she was being traded to an old marquis, ended up in a marriage of convenience with Denros when she learned he was being pressured by the Emperor and his parents to marry a princess…”
Vendia had proposed a contract marriage—she would be a quiet, harmless duchess who wouldn’t interfere with him. Denros accepted.
Of course, the previous Duke and Duchess of Kalvermer opposed the marriage with a lowly baron’s daughter.
But Denros went ahead anyway, and they became husband and wife.
“He really did torment her a lot.”
Even if Vendia never showed it, the previous duchess constantly dragged her out under the excuse of social gatherings.
And in front of servants and acquaintances, she humiliated her.
“My goodness, the dowry from the ruined Rose Count family is just this body? What exactly made you think you could enter our family?”
The mother-in-law always insulted her family and hurled abuse.
The Kalvermer family itself was wealthy enough not to care about dowries, but the Rose Count family was drowning in debt—so she despised Vendia for it.
“Don’t even dream of producing an heir. How did something like you end up in our family…”
And the father-in-law looked at her like she was a bug.
“As you see fit.”
And her husband—cold, detached, completely unreliable.
He was rarely home because he was busy.
So even as a duchess, Vendia had no power.
No love from her husband. No support from her family. The power balance was entirely in the mother-in-law’s hands.
There was not a single ally in the Kalvermer household.
Not even herself.
“She thought she just had to endure it because she was the one who proposed it first.”
Vendia sat up straight and looked out the window. The unfamiliar yet faintly familiar conifer forest rushed past as the carriage sped forward.
They had already left the imperial capital’s central district, so she was likely nearing the count’s estate.
“If I just look at that hellish in-law situation and that husband, this really is a regret story… but is this the part where things change after the divorce?”
While she was still lost in regret-story thoughts, the carriage slowed and eventually stopped.
She got out, stretching her stiff body, and saw a two-story mansion with a red roof.
It couldn’t compare to the ducal estate, but as a count’s house, it looked decent enough.
‘But no one’s here to greet me.’
Not even a single servant had come out. Not that she expected much.
As she grabbed her luggage from the coachman and reached for the door handle—
Bang!
The door suddenly flew open.
“You idiot! How dare you come here?!”
A man burst out, shouting like an enraged bull.
‘Ah, I know that face.’
Her original memories told her who he was.
Her older brother, Kalbasa Rose.
“If you married into that house, you should’ve clung to it like a leech! Divorce? DIVORCE?! Are you insane?!”
He was short, stocky, with a belly that stuck out like a sausage—and he looked even more furious than she was about the divorce.
“What kind of behavior did you even have to get divorced!”
Then another voice joined in.
A middle-aged woman this time.
Her mother, standing behind Kalbasa in flashy clothing.
‘Weren’t they supposed to be in debt?’
Why are they so flashy?
She was covered in jewelry—earrings, necklaces, anything that could be adorned was glittering.
“Haah, what are we supposed to do now? Your father’s business is going to collapse again!”
“……”
Vendia clenched her lips and looked at them.
Her brother glaring at her like he wanted to tear her apart, her mother looking at her like she was useless.
“Vendia Rose!”
And then her father’s booming voice echoed from inside the mansion as he stormed toward her.
They wouldn’t even let their divorced daughter inside—this was how they treated her at the door.
Well. They had originally tried to marry her off to some old marquis for money anyway.
She realized it instantly.
There was no place for her in this family either.
Maybe that was why—
A familiar feeling she had sensed since possession resurfaced.
Loneliness.
Then this… what is this?
“Is this a family regret story?”
Or maybe… a revenge-satisfaction story?
With a trash family like this, it wouldn’t be surprising.
“Wait—what did you just say?! Apologize to the duke’s house right now! Crawl back and beg them to take you back!”
Her mother’s sharp voice cut through her thoughts.
They were crossing the line again and again.
Honestly, she was the one who got divorced, not them.
“I didn’t do anything wrong, so why should I apologize? If you want, you go beg them yourself.”
She replied flatly.
“You crazy brat?!”
“The crazy one is you. Sausage.”
She shoved her brother’s shoulder aside and brushed off his grabbing hand.
“What, you’ve lost your mind?! You really went crazy?!”
“Vendia! How dare you ruin our family!”
At that moment, her father’s voice joined in as his heavy fist came flying at her.
Too slow.
Vendia simply stepped back.
“Ugh!”
The count overextended his swing and lost balance, crashing to the ground with a loud thud.
“Father!”
“My dear!”
Her brother and mother rushed to him in shock.
“I-I’m dying! I’m dying!”
“Nearly dying from that potato-sack hand… was me.”
Vendia shrugged.
“This brat! Apologize to your father immediately!”
“You’ve truly gone mad!”
“Get out of this house right now!”
The three of them shouted nonsense all at once.
Ignoring them, Vendia stepped inside the count’s estate.
She was already divorced anyway. She had already endured enough.
Now it was time to pay it back.
And honestly?
She liked that idea.
Because she was very confident in situations like this.