Danae smiled gently.
“See? You’re good at things, too. So stay put. I’ll bring in the money.”
“Alright… but don’t overdo it.”
“Don’t worry. I’m more energized than ever.”
Danae’s eyes sparkled with life.
Theo, entranced, blushed.
“Um, Danae… if it’s not urgent, maybe upstairs for a bit…”
Danae glared, smacking his back.
“Watch your mouth in front of the kids! I’m busy, so don’t even dream of it.”
She pushed him aside and opened the door.
As Livia dragged Theo away, Helena scurried to Danae, whispering.
“Mom, leave Catherine to us and go with peace of mind.”
“…!”
Helena’s sweet smile brought tears to Danae’s eyes. Her daughters knew everything, unprompted.
When did they grow so much?
They still seemed like babies to her.
Yet, they’d grown, ready to rebuild the family their parents had faltered.
Proud yet guilty, she thought, they’re too good for me.
With renewed resolve, Danae stepped out.
* * *
“The blisters are abnormal, a disease I’ve never seen. I can prescribe fever reducers, but they’ll only help temporarily.”
A doctor from the south shook his head after examining Rebecca.
Zeppelin, too drained to rage, sank into a chair, face buried in his hands.
The twentieth…
For a week, the empire’s best doctors had seen Rebecca.
Most said there was no hope.
A few boasted cures, only to be exposed as frauds and beaten.
Of course. It’s not a disease—it’s Devil’s Claw poisoning.
Rebecca breathed heavily.
The symptoms were worse than she remembered—millions of insects crawling over her from head to toe.
Scratching would burst the blisters, causing unbearable pain.
But she had no regrets.
Zeppelin’s hollow eyes, torn between fear of losing her and revulsion at her blistered form, fueled her strength.
She spoke weakly.
“Zeppelin, give up on me. I’m fine. You have Alicia.”
“No. You’re my only wife, Rebecca.”
“Alicia would be hurt hearing that.”
“I don’t care. Rebecca, how did this happen? My lovely Rebecca…”
It was pitiful yet laughable.
Sitting far away in a lavish chair, handkerchief over his nose, he claimed concern.
Knock, knock.
A cautious knock sounded.
With doors open to air out the stench, Rebecca instantly knew who it was.
“Excuse me.”
Octavio whispered to Zeppelin, who listened gravely before shouting.
“What? The vineyard?”
“You should go at once.”
“Damn it, now of all times…”
“Leave this to me and go with ease. Also, the temple contacted us.”
“The temple? Didn’t I say it’s pointless?”
“It’s a last hope. Worth a try.”
“No. Tell them it’s unnecessary.”
Octavio’s persistence failed; Zeppelin waved dismissively.
Irritation flickered across Octavio’s face, then vanished.
Zeppelin looked at Rebecca softly, his eyes heavy with fatigue.
“Rebecca, I need to step out. Octavio will care for you, so stay calm.”
Stay calm? How much calmer can I be?
The phrase seemed habitual for him.
Rebecca nodded faintly.
As Zeppelin left, Octavio took his chair, smiling as always, his narrow eyes dissecting her.
“Any discomfort?”
Rebecca studied his ever-present grin.
She’d known from her past life that Zeppelin relied on him, but thought it was mere trust in a lifelong servant.
Zeppelin wasn’t one to open his heart.
But observing Octavio’s recent actions, she reconsidered.
He had a knack for disarming people.
With a few questions, servants spilled secrets, often unaware.
Witnessing this, she grew suspicious.
Was Zeppelin’s twisted nature solely from his father?
Octavio was the estate’s snake, coiling around his master, whispering sweet poison.
She didn’t want to think about how many had succumbed to his bite.
Meeting his gaze, she spoke.
“I’m fine. By the way, what’s Kanna up to? The new maids are inconvenient.”
Octavio answered without hesitation.
“Kanna’s thriving in her new role—her calling, it seems. The lord deemed her unfit to serve you. The new maids are capable; please bear with them.”
After Robert’s death, the hounds were restructured.
Personnel decisions were Octavio’s domain.
Suspecting Kanna’s ties to Robert, he’d sent her to the laundry.
He’d also noticed Rebecca winning over servants, assigning unfamiliar maids to her.
Trapped in her room, Rebecca was effectively hobbled.
But she didn’t mind—waiting was enough.
From Zeppelin and Octavio’s talk, Yulian had started on the Rose Grapes.
Rose Grapes, hardier than other vines, had one weakness: Svana aphids.
These pests blackened leaves and softened fruit.
Normally, an issue a month away, Eustaf’s involvement hastened it.
Killing Svana aphids required a specific, banned pesticide.
The only solution was Tamara ladybugs, which needed precise breeding conditions.
Rebecca had tipped off Tanisha.
Tanisha acted fast, buying up ladybugs nationwide after Rebecca urged her to monopolize them.
With low demand, it was easy.
The ladybugs’ offspring had hatched, so Zeppelin likely had more than needed.
Now Tanisha just needs to rake in the money.
Rebecca smiled faintly.
“Pleasant thoughts?”
Octavio didn’t miss a beat.
She eyed his constant smile, noting she rarely saw him otherwise.
“Yes. Recalling memories with my husband.”
“Your bond is always heartwarming.”
“Don’t you have much to do, lingering here?”
“I was just leaving. I’ll call the maids. Rest well.”
Octavio bowed with a sinister smile and left.
New maids entered promptly.
“We’ll attend to you.”
Skilled but soulless, they applied ice packs to her feverish blisters.
The stinging cold made Rebecca wince.
If things went smoothly, waiting was no issue.
But “temple” from Octavio and Zeppelin’s talk nagged her.
Zeppelin, pro-emperor, avoided temple contact.
Octavio knew this.
Deep in thought, she wondered.
A reason to involve the temple…
He thinks it’s a divine illness.
Octavio’s motives grew murkier.
Was he genuinely trying to cure her by involving the temple?
A divine illness would be debunked instantly by temple scrutiny.
Someone like Octavio wouldn’t believe the saint rumor.
Was it a show to divert Zeppelin’s focus, proving he’s doing all he can?
Even if the temple exposes a fake saint, he loses nothing.
With Robert dead, he could pin it on him, dodging blasphemy charges.
But…
Can I use this?
While her body lay still, Rebecca’s mind raced.
* * *
“This is a fake. The petal pattern’s slightly off. We should cut ties with this supplier.”
Examining a vase, Danae advised Tanisha.
Tanisha, wide-eyed, checked the spot.
Indeed, it differed subtly from the catalog’s original.
While the salon was being built, Danae frequented Tanisha’s shop to select furnishings.
She hadn’t given her full name.
But her hair, blue eyes, and features made it easy to guess she was Danae Obelia—Rebecca’s mother.
Like mother, like daughter.
