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Chapter 47
“I was the only one who proposed the marriage; they just came along as witnesses.”
Lianel’s explanation only added to the confusion.
‘What kind of wedding requires thirteen witnesses?’
The butler barely managed to keep his composure.
“F-first, please come inside.”
The only reason they weren’t turned away at the door was that the young mistress of the mansion had been informed that guests would arrive.
‘Though no one mentioned there would be this many people!’
The servants were flustered, but skillfully hid it behind calm expressions.
“I’ll bring more chairs.”
The sitting room had basic furniture for guests, but it was far from enough for fourteen people.
By the time the room was packed, the son of the chairman, Ersen, peeked in.
“Why are there so many?”
“They said everyone is part of the party…”
Lianel lifted her gaze to meet his.
Norman Rikel had doted on the son he had late in life and spent his later years boasting about him to his former empress wife. However, he had never taken his son out in public.
[He was weak as a child due to an accident.]
His wife had died from poisoning at the hands of relatives who coveted Norman’s wealth, and though the son survived, he had been too weak to be taken outside.
[Still, he’s a precious son.]
And now, that son was standing before her.
‘Skeletal development is appropriate. Nutritional state is decent.’
He bore no resemblance to Norman, however, taking after his beautiful mother instead.
The boy looked at Lianel and crooked his lips into a smirk.
“Stepmom?”
“Not yet.”
Ersen plopped down opposite Lianel and called a servant to bring cold water. He downed it in one go and slammed the cup on the table, splashing droplets everywhere.
“But soon you’ll have to call me that, right? That way this house and fortune are mine too. Right?”
It felt as if the temperature around them dropped by two degrees.
While everyone froze, Til whispered in shock:
“Didn’t you say he’s fourteen?”
For someone from a fallen noble family, the boy’s rudeness was outrageous.
‘Even a servant’s son would behave more politely than that…’
Mel answered,
“He’s still a minor. Kids that age are all like this.”
“But the princess…”
“That’s because she’s excessively mature.”
Royalty were raised from a young age to serve as examples, making them inevitably more mature than their peers.
The only one keeping calm was Lianel.
“The empire’s inheritance law isn’t so lax that marriage alone grants wealth. Property is divided based on the continuity of the marriage and the degree of contribution to wealth creation. If the family has a legitimate heir, you can be pushed down the inheritance line.”
“So you mean if I’m not around, you inherit the Rikel estate?”
“Yes.”
“Team lead!”
Wilbrin was alarmed by the conversation.
They had come to spy on the interior, gather information, and meet the sequestered chairman. Yet now, they risked angering his son instead of winning his favor.
“So when are you going to kill me?”
“That would be pointless. Anyone who murders another to obtain inheritance is stripped of their rights.”
Til poked Lianel’s side in disbelief.
“Team lead, isn’t that a bit much to say?”
Only then did Lianel explain.
“Murder and hiding a corpse are crimes with a high risk of being discovered. It’s irrational to take such risks for a bank on the verge of bankruptcy.”
Til sighed at the overly detailed explanation.
‘Ugh, I shouldn’t have said anything.’
It was her fault for expecting human emotions from a machine.
Ersen, meanwhile, felt a subtle intrigue.
‘Who is this woman?’
Everyone tiptoed around him, even his father pitied him. Yet Lianel made no effort to please him.
Her expressionless face reminded him of a cold, rigid encyclopedia—sometimes even violent in its one-sided delivery of knowledge.
But…
‘She doesn’t seem to have any ulterior motives.’
Strangely, he didn’t dislike her.
‘Maybe it’s her astonishing honesty.’
Seeing someone lay everything bare from the start was oddly comforting.
Ersen straightened his posture.
“So why are you here?”
The tone remained sulky, but he asked.
“To see the chairman.”
“So the marriage proposal was just an excuse?”
“Yes.”
Duke Vinsenheim, who had worried about this, breathed a huge sigh of relief.
“Why use that method when a normal approach existed? Do you like shock therapy or something?”
“I expressed my intent to visit normally but was refused.”
“Then usually you’d give up! No one forcibly barges into another’s house!”
“I thought someone other than the chairman rejected us, so I came to be refused directly by him.”
She came not to meet the chairman but to be personally rejected—suggesting she suspected the chairman might be unable to see visitors.
‘I see… but why say it like that?’
“You know, you’re really strange. Be honest… you don’t have any friends, right?”
“Before I answer, we must define what constitutes a ‘friend.’”
“Huh?”
“If a friend is someone with whom I can share sincerity, then I have many friends.”
“No, that’s just garbage.”
Pouring out your thoughts one-sidedly doesn’t make someone a ‘friend.’
Ersen, though baffled, felt a strange sense of déjà vu.
‘Didn’t the former empress have a similar personality?’
His father often said she was sharp and capricious, yet kind. Thinking that way made her hard to reject.
Above all…
‘It’s been a while since I last saw my father.’
After the former empress died, the chairman suddenly grew distant from the vice-chairman and his wife, eventually shutting himself in his room for nearly six months, avoiding even his son.
Waiting endlessly had proven pointless.
‘I can’t wait any longer.’
Worry also pressed on him, remembering how thin his father looked the last time he saw him.
‘But he never said not to let these people in.’
Even forcefully, it was acceptable. Ersen wanted to pin hope on this capricious variable.
“Follow me. Father is this way.”
When Ersen knocked on his father’s bedroom door after two months, Dr. Lucy blocked him immediately.
“The chairman needs stability. Even as your son, you shouldn’t—!”
But that lasted only briefly.
“Are you bringing the new stepmother in?”
“Excuse me?”
“Are you letting this woman marry your father?”
Ersen nodded toward Lianel.
Lucy flinched.
She had long manipulated the chairman under the guise of being his physician, even obtaining the “holy water” drug.
‘I hadn’t planned this from the start…’
But she had no choice.
‘The chairman decided to resume banking immediately after the former empress’s death!’
Her husband, Dudvan, had gradually siphoned the bank’s funds during the chairman’s tenure at the special taxation office. Now, before traces could be erased, discovery was imminent.
Fortunately, the timing worked. Even if the chairman didn’t appear, the excuse of mourning the empress’s death justified his seclusion.
The plan was to plunder the Arsen bank and Norman’s personal assets, then remove the chairman and foolish son at the right time.
‘And now she’s the mistress?’
There could be no variable allowed to see inside the family at such a moment.
“Even you must see this is ridiculous, right? So let me see my father.”
Ersen’s reasoning had merit.
“At least she should see the man she’ll marry.”
Lucy looked at the chairman. His hazy gaze wandered as if lost in a dream. He didn’t even recognize his own son.
‘Will she be discovered?’
Lianel, apart from being overly expressionless, was like any other noblewoman. A properly raised woman wouldn’t marry a walking corpse.
‘She’ll probably run… or faint.’
“Very well then.”
That was the permission granted.
“Who’s there?”
Surprisingly, as soon as Lianel stepped inside, the chairman blinked multiple times and stood up.
It had been nearly six months since Ersen last heard his father’s voice.
His eyes welled up.
“Father?”
“Chairman?”
“What! H-how…!”
The chairman looked around slowly, as if trying to gauge his location. Then he finally focused on Lianel.
“And what brings such a distinguished guest here…?”
“To propose marriage.”
“?!”
The chairman sprang to his feet.
What exactly transpired and the conversations exchanged remained a secret between the parties.
Yet many would recount the scene.
“It was a miracle.”
A bedridden man had risen to walk; if that’s not a miracle, what is?
The chairman even shouted and moved violently, showing his vitality.
“The first gamble I took, and the first hope. And it was the right choice.”
Ersen agreed with the butler.
“She is surely divine.”
The butler, who had longed for the master’s recovery, said the same.
Wilbrin, however, had a different opinion.
“Even disbelief could be divine, I guess… whatever.”
Til scowled.
“How can anyone be so blasphemous?”
Well, that’s roughly how it went.
