Chapter 35
“It’s already morning.”
Agnes slowly raised her body in the faint sunlight.
Her eyelids were heavy, and her mind was hazy as if fogged.
She had clearly fallen asleep, yet she didn’t feel refreshed.
It was because she couldn’t sleep until dawn even after Lionel left yesterday.
Twisting her body, her injured leg ached.
Agnes frowned and carefully massaged her leg.
The chill-seeped right shin had been particularly numb these past few days.
According to the doctor, the nerves were already damaged, so it was more likely phantom pain than actual pain.
There was no particular solution. The doctor’s only advice was painkillers if it was too hard.
“They’re not even very effective…”
Clink.
Agnes swallowed a cheap painkiller on an empty stomach.
Frowning at the bitter taste lingering in her mouth, Agnes lay back down on the bed.
“By the way, why has Lionel’s attitude changed?”
Last night, she had talked with Lionel for quite a long time.
Though the ending was a bit unfortunate, unlike other times, Lionel had listened to what she said.
“He even said he believed me.”
A soft, hazy smile faintly appeared on Agnes’s lips.
Of course, she knew that “believe” didn’t include the past rumors.
Still, it was fine.
She liked the fact that she had been helpful to someone, and especially because that someone was Lionel.
Good-for-nothing. Burden.
In her life where no matter how hard she tried, she was treated as a cumbersome luggage that was awkward to discard rather than helpful, this was her first such experience.
“…It would be good if I could be more helpful.”
Agnes turned sideways, still with her numb leg.
‘To do that, it’s better not to mention the accident…’
The reason she couldn’t tell Lionel about the carriage accident was initially because of fear.
Then because it seemed Lionel wouldn’t particularly want to hear her story.
And now, because she didn’t want to burden him with guilt.
It wasn’t as if Lionel had done it on purpose.
Above all, she didn’t want to make their relationship, which had just slightly improved, awkward again.
“…If my leg gets a little better, maybe I can tell him then.”
The doctor had twice concluded that the damaged leg had almost no chance of recovery.
Nevertheless, Agnes was steadily doing rehabilitation.
There was no visible change yet, but she couldn’t bring herself to give up a leg that was still properly attached.
The process wasn’t easy without professional help.
Agnes traced the bumpy scar.
Lionel had already suffered enough because of the Bardo trading company.
She didn’t want to add herself to that.
‘Anyone hearing this would think I’m incredibly altruistic.’
Agnes let out a self-mockery toward herself.
In truth, this was closer to greed than altruism.
The greed of not wanting to be a burden at least to Lionel.
A faint hope had just appeared that she might be useful to him, and she didn’t want to destroy it herself.
***
“Agnes. Are you skipping lunch today too?”
Agnes, staying in the room as usual, was about to nod but hesitated.
It had already been several days since Lionel visited this room.
Agnes was trying to eat in the dining room as much as possible, as Lionel had told her.
But pushing the wheelchair three times a day was too exhausting, so naturally she only went once a day.
And that one meal was usually dinner.
Today, in the same context, she had skipped breakfast.
No matter that she was only a nominal mistress, the maids seemed to notice when Agnes kept skipping meals.
Her choice to avoid troubling others seemed to have made the servants uncomfortable instead.
“No. I’ll have lunch today.”
“Then I’ll inform the chef that you’ll be having both lunch and dinner today.”
“No—,”
I don’t need dinner. Agnes held back the words.
The wheelchair was still uncomfortable, but it was something she could endure with a little effort.
No need to trouble others unnecessarily.
With that resolve, Agnes cautiously asked the maid if she could obtain an etiquette book.
“An etiquette book? Yes, it’s possible, but why such a thing…”
“Just because. I don’t know much about noble etiquette. It seemed good to know it to avoid mistakes.”
“Understood. I’ll tell the butler.”
The maid clearly looked surprised.
She seemed shocked that ‘that’ arrogant Agnes would say she wanted to learn something.
“Thank you.”
Agnes smiled bitterly.
She had been in this mansion for quite some time and thought she had been careful.
Yet it seemed she couldn’t overturn public perception.
‘Let’s be a little more careful in my behavior.’
Agnes gripped the thick wooden wheels with difficulty.
However, without even rolling the wheels a few times, Agnes had to give up going to the dining room.
An uninvited guest had arrived.
Agnes slightly frowned at the servant blocking her path.
“A guest looking for me?”
“Yes. Your father has come.”
***
Agnes’s expression hardened as she entered the drawing room.
“Isn’t there better tea than this? It’s a ducal house, after all, tsk.”
Adrian was holding an expensive porcelain teacup, clicking his tongue and sneering.
The gold ring on his finger gleamed in the sunlight.
Adrian’s visit was clearly a breach of etiquette.
Not notifying in advance aside, coming without notice knowing full well it was mealtime.
“What brings you here?”
“Oh, my daughter. No, should I now call you duchess?”
Adrian spread his arms toward Agnes. As affectionately as possible.
For someone who had recently pushed Agnes into the investigation room, it was extremely brazen behavior.
“I was worried I might have given unnecessary testimony, so I came to check. Don’t misunderstand, I never meant to trouble you.”
Lest any sparks fly to him. Adrian added hypocritically.
“I’ll definitely find the one who stole the trading company documents, so don’t worry too much.”
Adrian lifted his teacup. The steam from the black tea flickered like a snake in Adrian’s glinting eyes.
“I saw in the article you were at the grand theater terrorism site. You weren’t hurt?”
“As you can see, I’m fine.”
“Didn’t you see anything there?”
He asked casually, but Adrian was probing Agnes.
Whether she had seen any clue linking to him at the scene.
And whether Lionel’s suspicions had turned toward him.
Adrian had been on edge these past few days, blood drying up in anxiety. Fearing he might be named an accomplice in the terrorism.
But as a day or two passed, and even today there was no particular reaction from Lionel, he had come on his own.
To check directly rather than remain anxious.
Knowing his true intentions, Agnes lifted her teacup with an expressionless face.
She wasn’t naive enough to fall into the trap Adrian had laid.
Telling him here that he was suspected would only give him a chance to cut his tail and escape.
“Well. I was too flustered to remember well.”
“Did His Grace say anything? Perhaps about me.”
“No. His Grace has no interest beyond Rebelt.”
“Ah, ahaha. Right. Then he has no interest in me at all.”
Adrian’s mouth corners rose slyly.
Relief was fully visible on his face.
“Of course. What would you know.”
Contempt he couldn’t hide seeped into the end of his words.
Adrian believed Agnes didn’t have the guts to dare lie to him.
To satisfy that arrogance, Agnes lowered her gaze like someone who knew nothing.
Meanwhile, Adrian, now unrestrained, puffed up and lifted his chin.
“More importantly, Agnes. What on earth have you been doing with the work all this time? The trading company is in a terrible state lately.”
“What do you mean?”
He opened his leather bag and pulled out a bundle of documents.
On the old paper were densely packed contract termination notices and deficit statements.
“What is all this—”
Agnes’s eyes widened.
In the short time, all the contracts she had handled had turned into deficits.
Bewilderment filled Agnes’s fair face.
“How do you plan to take responsibility for this?”
“Why ask me that?”
“Isn’t this because you didn’t properly finish things? Useless as ever.”
Adrian clicked his tongue.
“Anyway, since the deficit happened because of you, you fill it.”
“What?”
“Are you so stupid you can’t understand words? You became duchess, so you must be receiving quite a bit of money. Invest that!”
Called investment, it was almost robbery.
Moreover, knowing full well that even with restoration, the Valheim finances were poor.
It was a demand close to absurdity.
“Ah, sorry. I momentarily forgot that the Valheim family is only shiny on the surface.”
“Father!”
“If things are really bad, at least return the dowry given to you. What’s family for. We help each other in times like this.”
Adrian was committing rudeness as naturally as breathing.
In the dining room, Lionel was looking at the wall clock second hand with a bored face.
On the table, food for two—including Agnes’s portion—was set.
Tick. Tick.
Listening to the dry second hand sound, Lionel tilted his head.
“…She’s late.
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