My Crippled Ex-Husband Is An Emperor

Demands

The Duke's family were hardly done with him. Styles assumed the separation rites were all that was left, but he was dead wrong.

They wanted compensation. Not just any compensation but twenty bags of silver.

“Mother, there is no need for all of this. He has signed the papers, all we need to do is perform the rites tomorrow and I'm a free woman. There is no need to drag this,” Mona reasoned with her mother.

“I beg to differ. This useless man here wasted two years of your life. He made you lose suitors who would have been very valuable to us only to turn into this. He needs to pay for emotional support for bringing this disgrace upon us,” Duchess Elena argued.

“Twenty bags of silver? Mother, are you forgetting that Styles is a deadbeat husband? He has nothing other than the clothes you see him on. Where do you expect him to get twenty bags of silver from? He can't even boast of ten, Mom.”

Styles would have appreciated the words of defense if it weren't a direct insult. Their demands were absolutely ridiculous.

If anyone deserved emotional support, it was him. They couldn't expect him to compensate them for disrespecting and constantly humiliating him.

“Don't be stubborn, Mona. Mother is right. He should pay for wasting your time and disgracing us,” one of her brothers concurred.

“I do not care what you want from him, alright? I just want to be separated from him as soon as possible. Asking him to pay such a ridiculous amount would cause an unnecessary delay in the process,” Mona complained.

‘Good to know. I would have been surprised if you had my best interest at heart,’ Styles thought with a scoff.

“You don't have to bother about that, dear. The rites will be held tomorrow as scheduled. After that, we will decide what to do with him if he doesn't pay up.”

Styles watched them discuss him like he wasn't in the room with them. They talked about all kinds of punishment they would meet out on him.

When he finally got the chance to return to his room. He searched his bags and eventually fished out some writing materials. Sinking the block feather into the golden ink, he wrote quickly on the black paper and stamped it with the royal seal.

Concealing it in a white envelope, he leaned back against his seat to think.

“Hey,” It was the girl from the previous night.

“Hello, hallway savior,” he teased and she laughed.

“I'm glad you still have some wit left in you. With everything going on, I don't expect you to have any funny bones left, or any bone at all.”

“Fair enough,” Styles chortled.

She sat on the mattress opposite him.

“Everything will be alright. Don't lose hope.”

There was nothing worth hoping for but her kind words touched him.

“Are you this nice to everyone?” He asked.

“Just the ones I like,” she shrugged.

“Can I ask for a small favor?” He asked her.

“Sure, as long as it doesn't involve poisoning your in-laws,” she whispered, stealing another laugh from him. The girl was effortlessly funny and it warmed his heart.

He handed the white envelope to her.

“Can you post it to this address without trying to read the contents?” He asked.

“Which of the contents? The one in the envelope or the address on the tiny piece of paper?” She wiggled her brows.

“The one in the envelope of course.”

“Don't worry. I'm expertly trained in minding my business. I have a lineup of chores so I will just go post this quickly, alright?”

“Thank you.”

The next day, some guards stormed into his room to fetch him for the separation rites. They held onto his wheelchair tightly as if they were afraid he would escape.

Styles said nothing to this. He wanted to get everything over with as soon as possible.

The priest was already present to perform the rites and Moma seemed a little too giddy. Unlike her, Styles saw nothing to be excited about.

He just lost two years of his life to a woman that was never meant to be his.

As tradition demanded, they were supposed to turn around the fire in an anticlockwise direction seven times, denouncing their vows before tossing the marital ornaments into the fire.

Styles hesitated a second before casting the ring into the fire. They signed the separation scroll once again and the priest declared them officially separated.

Once rites were completed and the Priest was escorted home, Styles expected a moment of peace but his mother-in-law and her sons struck again.

“And where do you think you are going? Have you forgotten that you seized to be a member of this family from the moment you cast your ring into the fire?” Duchess Elena started.

“I am fully aware,” Styles’ voice strained with exhaustion.

“So why are you stepping back into my house like it is yours?”

“I intend to leave. I only wish to take my belongings with me,” Styles answered.

“Belongings? Everything you own, including the clothes you have on was gifted to you by my daughter. You cannot leave with any of that,” she stated.

Styles glanced at Mona who looked away quickly, pretending she wasn't part of the conversation.

“Not forgetting the twenty bags of silver you owe us,” one of the brothers, Klein, reminded.

“But that wasn't stated…”

“In the papers?” Joel, the other brother, completed. “Perhaps not in the one you signed yesterday but it was boldly and legibly stated in the one the priest presented to you.”

Styles' fists clenched against the arms of the wheelchair. They were getting on his last nerve.

“If twenty bags of silver is all you want, be rest assured you will get it before sunset today. If that is all, can you kindly let me be now?” He seethed.

The brothers exchanged glances and then laughed.

“Listen to him speak, mother. If twenty bags is all you want you will get it before sunset,” Klein mimicked. “He talks like he is the offspring of a wealthy man when in reality, he is a nobody.”

“I would like to see you deliver that money before sunset. If you don't, we will sell off that wheelchair of ours and lock you up in the dungeons for the rest of your life!” Duchess Elena threatened.

Styles huffed inwardly and rolled away.

“The arrogance of this man! Where did you find this scallywag from again?” Joel asked Mona.

She rolled her eyes and focused on admiring her beautiful nails.

Meanwhile, in a faraway empire, a five-star General stood in the heart of the palace, surrounded by the council members.

"General, a letter arrived from Xori City in Kinji State," a guard came running in to inform him.

"A white envelope?" he frowned. "Send it to the servants."

"But General, it has the royal seal on it," the guard informed.

"The royal seal?" The General repeated. He took the envelope and examined the seal. It was indeed the royal seal of the Black Empire.

He opened it to reveal the royal black paper. He carefully opened the letter and his eyes widened when he saw the golden ink.

Tears of joy built up in his eyes.

"Is it really from a royal?" One of the council members asked.

"Even better. Get the chariots ready along with twenty bags of silver. We are going to bring the Prince home."