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Chapter 61
The Marchioness Bled had been quite close to Tersia. That was, of course, until the death of Marchioness Bled’s husband.
“She’ll bring all this bad energy with her. Why did she even come if she’s in such a foul mood?”
Tersia had always treated the Marchioness with great respect, as the latter held a higher status. In turn, the Marchioness had found Tersia endearing.
But now, widowed and rendered useless, the Marchioness no longer warranted Tersia’s friendliness.
Tersia glared at the Marchioness, who in turn met her gaze with icy, piercing eyes.
An invisible spark seemed to flare between the two women. Once inseparable, they now exchanged nothing but hostile looks.
“Tersia, I thought some unavoidable circumstance kept you from attending your husband’s funeral.”
The Marchioness forced a bitter smile as she looked at Tersia’s murderous glare. It was the first time she had faced Tersia since her husband’s death. Tersia hadn’t even sent a single letter of condolence.
The Marchioness had genuinely cared for Tersia. To her, Tersia had been a true friend, someone to comfort in sorrow and celebrate in joy.
But she had been the only one who felt that way. Tersia had only ever fawned over her when it was convenient. Once the Marchioness became helpless and alone, Tersia severed ties faster than anyone else.
“And what are you going to do, glaring at me? A widow left all alone.”
Tersia sneered, mocking the Marchioness.
“The Duke of Plice long ago abandoned the Bled family.”
There was no need to curry favor with the late Marchioness anymore. Her husband had died, and she was now reduced to insignificance.
“Ah, how careless of me. I didn’t make my contribution.”
Tersia beckoned a servant over and whispered in his ear. The servant bowed and left, returning shortly with a blank check.
“You came for money, didn’t you? Don’t worry, I’ll be generous. I hear the late Marchioness had quite a bit stashed away. The crown will confiscate it soon… Is that all right?”
Tersia made a point of humiliating the Marchioness.
“Oh my, really?”
“Seems so. The Countess of Wens has a sharp eye for information.”
“How pitiful.”
The noblewomen whispered amongst themselves. Already grieving her husband’s death, the Marchioness trembled in shame from the insult delivered by someone she had once cherished like a younger sister.
Tersia filled in the blank check with ten million res. To her, it was a modest sum.
She stood, approached the Marchioness, and placed the check on her chest.
“I can’t just pass by as your sister. Come to me if you ever need help. Don’t worry about repaying this money.”
“Tersia!”
Ignoring the Marchioness’s cries, Tersia signaled one of her guards. As the guard approached, she gestured toward the Marchioness.
“Escort her out politely.”
She dismissed the Marchioness as if shooing her away. Dragged out by the guard, the Marchioness tore up the check and threw it to the floor.
Tersia shook her head, sitting back down.
“Why act like that when you have no money? You don’t need to cling to pride.”
Wearing a calm expression, she addressed the other noblewomen.
“Shall we continue our earlier conversation?”
Though some of the noblewomen were appalled at Tersia’s sudden shift in demeanor, no one dared to show it.
At that moment, Tersia had no idea that the blade she had thrown would return to her like a boomerang.
A few days later
Roze’s expression had brightened considerably. She now had the trump card named Cern.
Cern, accompanied by Jane, had immediately knelt before Roze. Roze had been astonished by his apology for deceiving her all this time.
“I never expected Cern to be Cedric’s subordinate.”
Moreover… he was Cedric’s secret son. Roze was more shocked by this revelation than by his deceit.
“He doesn’t look anything like him…”
Cern looked completely different from Eric, who was the spitting image of Cedric.
“The enemy is close. The old sayings were never wrong.”
Although Cern had deceived her with an innocent face, Roze forgave him. His past was pitiful, but more importantly, the information he brought was valuable.
Cedric’s schemes no longer intimidated her in the least.
“Everything is going smoothly. I hope this luck continues into my business.”
Lying on her bed, Roze murmured to herself. She wanted to leave the life-or-death struggles with the Grand Duke behind and focus solely on her business.
Her eyes wandered to the old wooden ceiling above. The water stains revealed leaks, and this house was far more dilapidated than the Wens estate. Yet she didn’t mind. This place was better than the cramped studio she had lived in her previous life.
Closing her eyes, she smoothed the creaky bed.
“When my business succeeds, the first thing I’ll do is buy a proper mansion for my parents.”
Not a dilapidated old house, but a comfortable home. After a few days together, they already felt like her own parents.
Just then, the sound of hooves came from outside the window.
“Oh? Are they already here?”
Thinking it was the Count and Countess of Serviat, Roze rose and ran to open the front door.
“You’re here…”
Her smile froze at the sight of Eric standing outside.
“…Why are you here?”
Frowning, she looked at him. He had already remarried, finished his wedding, and yet had come here—what could he possibly want? Perhaps to personally return some of her belongings left at the Wens estate?
Roze glanced past Eric’s shoulder. Some guards stood by the carriage, but none carried her luggage.
“Why are you here?” she asked again, crossing her arms and glaring.
Eric looked at her arrogantly, tapping the creaky door with his fingers. Then he glanced around the shabby house, frowning.
“No matter how many times I come, I can never get used to this shabby place.”
“Stop with the pointless talk and just say why you came.”
Roze narrowed her eyes, wary, as Eric barged inside without permission.
“Wait, why are you going in?!”
“Do you expect me to stand there idle without offering any hospitality?”
Hospitality? He was acting as if he were a guest. Roze intended to send him away immediately.
“What are you doing?”
“Coffee. Don’t add sugar. I don’t like cheap sugar.”
Sitting at the table with his legs crossed atop it, he spoke arrogantly.
Roze approached, pointing angrily at him.
“What am I supposed to do? We don’t even have coffee here.”
Eric knew she was deliberately cold, yet he spoke regardless.
“You’ll protest just enough before coming in, right?”
“Do you even know this counts as trespassing?”
“Stop clinging to pride and just let me take your hand.”
Rubbing his eyes as if exhausted, he continued,
“Don’t you see I came straight after my honeymoon, pushing through my fatigue?”
Roze couldn’t communicate with him. He ignored everything she said, only speaking his mind.
“Who asked you to come? And why are you doing this after remarrying? Stay happy with Doana, your new wife, and leave me out of it.”
“You… really aren’t affected at all, are you?”
“Of course not. I suppose you wanted to see me suffer watching you with another woman?”
“It’s not about wanting. That’s just who you are—self-centered, living only for yourself.”
Eric lowered his legs and stood, reaching as if to embrace her.
“What are you doing? Are you insane? Why would I want to see you? Stop deluding yourself!”
Roze shoved his hand away, glaring. The unexpected coldness pricked Eric’s heart.
“Hah.”
He sighed low and spoke in a commanding tone:
“In three years, I’ll restore you to your title as Marchioness. Until then, endure and hold on. Doana’s child will be registered under you.”
Roze frowned at the sudden mention of Doana’s child.
“You wanted a child, didn’t you? I’ll make sure you can raise one.”
This man was clearly insane.
“Who said I’d raise Doana’s child? No way. And I have no intention of going to your estate.”
Eric, trying to sway her, couldn’t help but flare up at Roze’s cold response.
“If only… you hadn’t had a miscarriage, none of this would’ve happened!”
“…What did you just say?”
Who caused the miscarriage? Roze no longer wanted to deal with him. She shoved him with all her strength.
“Get out! Leave my house at once!!”
Despite her anger, Eric didn’t budge, only grasping her wrist.
Then—splash!
A bucket of water drenched Eric. Shocked, he turned sharply, meeting the cold gaze of Roze’s father. He had thrown the bucket to the ground, hearing it roll across the wooden floor.
“You insolent man! How dare you speak to my daughter like that!”
Demon’s anger flared to the point his face turned crimson as he grabbed Eric by the collar.
