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Chapter 38
“The rumors have already spread throughout the mansion. They say that maid will become the Countess in place of Lady Rose.”
“What? How dare a lowly maid act so presumptuously!”
Tercia’s shout made the servant flinch. The servant, however, quietly nodded without denying her words.
“Yes. She’s said to be very cunning. The Count is utterly smitten with her. Not only did she entice the Count with her fair looks, but she’s also trying to manipulate the Wenss family for her own gain.”
“Hah…!”
Tercia was infuriated. She had chased away the fox, only for a mouse to creep in.
“Don’t get worked up. We can deal with it quietly.”
Cedric remained remarkably calm in the face of Tercia’s anger.
“Killing a mere maid who isn’t even a noble? That’s nothing.”
Cedric’s slow words carried a deadly undertone. Yet Tercia couldn’t hide her frustration.
“Suppose we, notorious as we are, kill that maid. Do you think Eric wouldn’t suspect you?”
Cedric twitched, raising an eyebrow at Tercia’s words.
“We can kill the maid… but your relationship with Eric might become irreparable.”
Tercia walked toward Cedric, her heels clicking sharply on the floor. Stopping in front of him, she crossed her arms and let out a heavy sigh.
“I’ve told you countless times: don’t drift apart from Eric. He’s grown now, fully capable of thinking for himself.”
Tercia gave Cedric a sidelong glance, her expression slightly disapproving.
“So please, stop the corporal punishments. You’re too old for that now. Acting like that will only make Eric resent you.”
Her tone softened, becoming almost a whisper.
“If the woman he cherishes dies, who do you think he’ll suspect first?”
“….”
“He’ll suspect both of us, the ones who care the most about him.”
“I’m Cedric. What does Eric know to say such things…”
Tercia interrupted his arrogant words.
“Eric isn’t as foolish as you think. He’s been observing you for over twenty years. How could you possibly think he wouldn’t notice?”
Cedric recalled the incident with Eric from before.
‘Come to think of it, even then he realized I was behind the poisoned cosmetics.’
Cedric frowned in annoyance.
“So what’s your point? You want to watch that wretched maid take over the Wenss household?”
Tercia’s eyes gleamed with malice as she tapped her fan against her chin.
“You need to learn firsthand how futile it is to stare at a tree you can never climb.”
“Remember when you suggested Eric divorce so he could remarry immediately? I already arranged a proposal back then.”
“Yes. To the Dicar Marquis family.”
A week ago, Tercia had quietly arranged a marriage proposal with the Dicar family—finally to find a partner suitable for Eric. While it would have been fine to wait, the priest’s prophecy about Eric’s short life if he remained unmarried had prompted Tercia to act swiftly. Divorce first, remarriage immediately after—no gap.
“Luckily, they responded positively. They said their youngest daughter, raised well, would be a perfect match for Eric.”
“The youngest daughter of the Dicar Marquis… she must have just reached adulthood.”
“A handsome pair, finally. Eric will find his match.”
Tercia smiled subtly at Cedric.
“Send a letter to the Dicar family immediately. The sooner, the better.”
To think that Doana imagined she could become Countess after Rose’s dismissal—how naive. Tercia chuckled at the maid’s futile dream of rising above her station, planning to make her realize how ridiculous it was to desire what was beyond her reach.
Not even half a day later, the letter reached the Dicar household. The marquis glared at Cedric’s letter with cold, unfeeling eyes.
“They really have crossed the line. Scheduling it as soon as possible, huh?”
Crumpling the letter in his hand, he tossed it carelessly onto the floor. Though he had responded with polite words, he hadn’t wanted to accept the proposal. It angered him—but he had a plan.
Two women, strikingly similar in appearance but dressed very differently, sat beside the marquis. One sat upright, exuding elegance; the other, smaller and timid, shrank under his gaze.
“Father, so in the end, you really want me to marry into the Wenss family?”
“Yes. These wretched people have seriously underestimated me. How dare they try to pawn off their reckless son on our family?”
The marquis slammed the desk, teeth gritted.
“How dare a mere count belittle me! And trusting the Duke of Plice while acting so boldly—ridiculous.”
The Wenss family, aware of the marquis’ intentions to switch allegiance to the emperor’s faction, made their enticing proposal. Though it promised security if they married off their daughter, he hesitated to part with her, and so prepared a contingency plan.
He looked at the smaller girl beside his daughter.
‘Even I can see the resemblance.’
Though not identical, they looked strikingly alike.
“Don’t get angry, Father. You’d collapse again,” said his daughter, gently calming him.
“I’ve already prepared for this,” she added, pointing to the humble girl beside her. The girl flinched at the gesture.
“Ah… yes. Had I done nothing, I dread to think what would have happened.”
The marquis’ daughter looked at the girl with a cold, assessing gaze. The girl flinched, realizing her life had become entwined with a dangerous plan.
“If you cut long hair, it grows back, but short hair doesn’t lengthen quickly, does it?”
The girl flinched at the icy gaze. ‘She really intends to use me as a substitute for her sister!’
The marquis’ daughter had purchased the girl as a slave and locked her in a private room. Though frightened at first, she found her life there surprisingly comfortable. She could not step outside her room, but was well-fed and bathed. Three days after arriving, she was allowed into the marquis’ daughter’s room—and there, she saw a woman who looked uncannily like her, almost like a mirror image.
‘At first… I had hope.’
The girl thought she might be the lost daughter of the household. But after hearing their conversation, she realized it was a cruel deception: she was to be passed off as the daughter.
Her heart sank. She trembled with fear. Where would she be sent next? Clearly, the person behind this was far from sane.
“Hey.”
The real daughter of the Dicar marquis called to the girl, lifting her chin to examine her face.
“It’s amazing. How could you look so much like me? Father, were we really not twins?”
“What nonsense! Twins? I was right there when your mother gave birth. That child is merely a slave who happens to resemble you.”
The marquis’ words were true. His daughter smiled, satisfied.
“My face isn’t exactly common… lucky you, slave, to inherit such looks.”
The girl flinched. Beauty was a curse for a slave, isolating her and bringing the harshest treatment.
“Do you have a younger sibling?”
The girl’s eyes widened at the word. She had been separated from her sister for five years, sold to different places after their parents’ death. She had survived each day without hope of seeing her again.
“Yes. If you obey, I’ll let you meet your sister.”
The girl’s eyes lit up with hope. She clung to the marquis’ daughter, pledging to do anything. But the daughter pushed her hands away, warning her:
“Calm down. Do you think you can meet your sister if you fail at my task? You must perfectly impersonate me. You have three days.”
“Three days… I have to act exactly like her. Only then can I see my sister. I have to succeed.”
Her resolve hardened. In three days, Eric would marry—not Doana, but this woman. Doana, unaware, continued dreaming of becoming Countess, blissfully ignorant of the real plan unfolding around her.
