MY UNEXPECTED MARRIAGE TO THE LOVELESS CEO

Chapter 7 🍂

Lisa's pov

It's been two days and the protest that is held against me is still active. I am sure my mom is happy the way this whole event has turned out to be. Finally, the tide has changed. Instead of its drowning poor, unpopular royal majesty, it's drowning the new face of the ruling house, the young, more popular figure the ruling house has ever seen.

I bury my face in the comfort of my palms. Why didn't I notice this earlier? That I'd become her black sheep in this scandal she refuses to be a part of? But again, no matter how malicious the newspapers can be with their poison, they still can't beat the support of my people. And I guess my mother is jealous of that.

"Good morning, Your Royal Highness,"

Jihyo greets me as I'm in the backyard of the royal residence with a few footmen standing in the distance to keep a watchful eye over me. "Morning," I sip the tea from the cup. Then, I notice few folded newspapers on her arm. "Anything I should be aware of?" I eye her and the secretary shakes her head.

"Apparently," she keeps her face straight as she begins her morning report. "While few newspapers are known for their uncivilised, poisonous thoughts, there are still few other rooting for you,"

"I see," I sip the tea again. Then, I glance lightly at the window. Roseanne's silhouette peeks from behind it. I look away. "The other day, as I remember," I hold the cup and the saucer carefully, eyes fixed on the secretary. "You mentioned about your poor mother, how she's dealing with her melancholia after your younger sibling passed away abruptly in her teen years,"

"I did, Your Royal Highness,"

"Well, tell me about that again"

"Oh,"

The woman looks surprised before pulling herself together. "It's a small place in Hyeongsan" she narrates. "In my seventeenth year, my father and I found ourselves incapable of taking care of my mother. So, we took her there. But years of untreated melancholia surely had taken a great toll on her that even after she was cured, she is still pretty much in her own, voiceless world,"

"I see," I look away for a second. From a distance, my eyes manage to register a flock of pheasants running across the field, probably in search of food. Then, I look back at Jihyo. "Is it possible for you to get me the number? The person you met in Hyeongsan?"

"Sure," Jihyo says. "I will have it passed to you before lunch," she promises. Then, out of the blue, a pale package is handed over to me. "Irene had someone deliver this to my place yesterday. The instruction is to have it safely delivered to your hands," she adds and I nod my head. "Thank you very much, you can go" I dismiss her before taking the pale package with me inside.

***

"Who is that?"

Roseanne questions. She pauses somewhere in the middle of the grand staircase. Eyes staring at me confusedly. "Who is who?" I ask, passing her by but she catches my arm and stops me from taking the next step. "Who is that bitch?" she asks and I sigh. "Roseanne, that is Jihyo, my secretary. How can you not know her?"

"Well, in this marriage I have a hard time understanding who is who," she throws her head backward, then her free hand doing some vague gestures in the air. "Last time I was introduced to Suzy as your best friend. Little that I know it's a different type of best friend; the one you fuck around senselessly behind my back,"

"Oh please," I hold the package in hand securely so that she won't take it away from me. "I'm not in the mood to fight off the silliest of things, Roseanne. Jihyo is just my secretary and nothing more than that,"

"Well, I hope so," the blonde finally let go of my arm. "Or I'm going to ask you for a divorce, Lisa. For real, this time,"

I sit in my study room after that. A faint, childish sketch of a butterfly sits impeccably behind a silver frame. I tear the wrapper of the pale package gently, until all that is left is another childish sketch of a butterfly again. This time, it's a little bigger than the last time, drawn exactly on the same type of milky coloured paper. I curl my lips. This will exactly fit inside the golden frame I keep inside the drawer.

And my guess is right. The sketch looks majestic behind the glass, and as I run my finger through its line, pretending I can feel the roughness of it underneath my fingertip, I read the letter that comes with it. The tiny dots that bump underneath my fingertips feel lovely as it tells me stories.

***

"Have this sent to Irene immediately,"

I keep the slate into the drawer of my desk, then lock that particular compartment. Jihyo takes the letter from the desk and tucks it inside her bag. "I will," she says before passing me a small piece of paper. "It's the doctor we talked about this morning,"

"Thank you, I will tell you if future meeting shall be arranged,"

"I'll take my leave," Jihyo stands up, bows her head, then exits.

***

Roseanne's pov

She invites me in, not even the slightest fear in her eyes from the moment she has the door opened. "It's a bit messy here," she ties her sleeping robe as we are inside the hall of her apartment. It's a decent apartment, I must say.

A familiar Rolex stays abandoned on the coffee table when she offers me a seat on her divan. "Oh, that one is Lisa's" she speaks, her back facing me as she rummages through the cabinet in the kitchen.

"She was here last week, did she tell you that?"

She walks back into the hall with two dusty glasses and a bottle of unopened wine. Then, she places the stuff on the coffee table, pushing the watch aside. "It's still early,"

She helps herself with the wine. Amusingly, she sips the content straight from its bottle, ignoring the two dusty glasses she brought with her. "Oh," she pauses, chuckling when she has her eyes on me.

I must have been staring at her in disgust. "I'm sorry, I forgot about you," she holds the bottle in hand as some of its content spills on her chin. "I'm pretty sure this one isn't your type. I heard they serve a better label where you live,"

"They do," I join the conversation. "The thing is that, I'm here to tell you something,"

"Tell me this," Suzy cuts me off, still laughing. Her messy hair hangs over her shoulders.

"Wasn't your poor, six feet underneath mother a poet or something?" and when I say nothing, she concludes it as the truth. In this case, she is right. "I expect someone who comes from someone like that, I mean, a family like that would have a better choice of words, right?"

"It depends on the recipient as well," I breathe out, clasp my hands. "You can't talk Shakespeare to a pig. It wouldn't understand. So what you do is make a choice; the lowest, most comprehendible type of language. Hence, it explains the language I speak to you right now,"

"I see,"

Suzy sips the content again. "So, what brings you to this luxury pigsty?"

"Stay away from my wife,"

I warn. "And what if I don't want that?" She looks at me. "What if I don't want to do that?"

"Then, you'll see," I rise from the divan. Suzy follows next. "Time to go back to the palace?"

I ignore her question. Then, she bows her head. "Well, farewell, Your Royal Highness, from your most loyal subject, the pig your wife runs after"

Then she smiles slyly as she watches me getting into the back of the Royce. I don't spare her another glance. I just can't.

But before the car moves, a knock on the window echoes. Suzy stands outside, still in her sleeping robe. "I'm sorry," she says when the window is rolled down. "But please give this back to Lisa," the Rolex exchanges hands and she smiles at me before excusing herself.