Chapter 58
“So then—what about the virus? Can you really say with certainty that the virus had no effect on the miscarriage?”
I thought carefully, then answered.
“Well, it’s true that pregnant women are physically weaker and more vulnerable to illnesses. But viruses almost never directly cause miscarriages. When did you have the virus? Was it during early pregnancy?”
“……”
“If so, while it might affect the fetus, it doesn’t directly cause miscarriage. In fact, it’s much more dangerous if it happens right before or right after birth.”
“What…?”
“And since you said you recovered without any trace left, that means this wasn’t your first infection. Which makes it even less likely the virus caused it.”
Mabel bit her lip hard, clearly shaken.
The duke, who had been listening quietly, asked with a doubtful tone,
“Can you take responsibility for those words, young lady? What you’re saying is very different from what other doctors have told me.”
I knew he was asking not to scold me, but to give me space, so I nodded firmly.
“Yes, I can. Medically speaking, miscarriages are unfortunately very common. Especially in early pregnancy.”
“……”
“Many people blame the mother, but in truth, most miscarriages are simply beyond human control. It is more a matter of fate—something neither doctor nor mother can prevent.”
People avoided talking about it, but miscarriage could happen to anyone, more often than most realized.
So I could say with certainty:
A miscarriage is never the mother’s fault.
Suddenly, I remembered something from my intern days.
‘Miscarriage is essentially like an accident—bad luck. But mothers will always look for someone to blame, because the pain of losing a child is so great.’
I had never experienced it myself, so I could never know how deep that pain went.
But seeing Mabel scream in rage that “they killed her child,” I thought:
Maybe at first she blamed herself. And later, to survive, she directed her resentment toward Rubian.
“So now, let your child go. Instead of blaming anyone, it’s time to pray that your baby rests in a better place.”
“Uhh… uhh…!”
At that, Mabel broke down, crying like a wounded animal. She beat her chest and sobbed heavily.
‘Now that she’s realized miscarriage wasn’t anyone’s fault, it must feel like her whole world is collapsing.’
But still—out of her grief, she had killed her closest friend and scarred the children too.
Her pain I could understand, but her crimes demanded punishment.
“Mabel Milgrain, hear this.”
The duke, thinking the same, did not wait for her to finish crying.
At his nod, the knights quickly bound her.
“In the name of the Blaine Duchy, I sentence you, criminal Mabel Milgrain, to life imprisonment—for murdering the duchess and abusing the young lady.”
Such was the duchy’s power: instant judgment. No defense, no lengthy trial.
‘Life imprisonment…’
It was harsh, but considering the duchy had suffered the most, perhaps it was mercy.
And truly, for Mabel, life in darkness—forever repenting—was the cruelest punishment of all.
She had lost not only her child, but also the people she had once called family.
‘There’s no room for sympathy.’
As the knights pulled her up to drag her away, the duke raised a hand.
“Wait. One last question.”
Mabel lifted her hollow eyes.
“Who was the first to tell you about the supposed danger of Ascicle oil?”
I widened my eyes at the sudden question.
Mabel thought for a moment, then suddenly snapped her head up to glare at someone.
Her eyes carried a deadly edge. I flinched—then the duke burst into laughter.
“Haha!”
He waved his hand as if dismissing her.
The knights yanked Mabel roughly out of the office.
The door slammed shut behind her. Then the duke turned back, his gaze fixed on someone.
“…So it was you, Roman.”
I whipped my head toward him in shock.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
The duke wore a twisted smile, almost self-mocking.
Roman simply smiled calmly, as though nothing was amiss, and spoke in his usual serene tone.
“As expected of you, my lord.”
His words nearly made my eyes pop out.
Wait—what?
The betrayal of both the head maid and the steward?
“Leopold, explain this to me as well—what’s going on?” Marquis Heres demanded.
The duke sighed wearily.
“You and I… we’ve both been played.”
“What do you mean…?”
“Recently, I found traces of someone in the household communicating with outsiders. If it had only been Mabel, I would have closed the matter there. But…”
He shook his head.
“As you just saw, Mabel’s motives were personal. Which means someone else pushed her, manipulated her emotions, and kept outside contact.”
Then I remembered: Roman had always obeyed the marquis’s orders, never Chade’s or the duke’s.
‘So Roman had his own agenda from the start. That’s why he never served Chade or the duke properly.’
At that moment, Chade stepped forward.
“The documents my uncle showed me earlier—Roman, you were the one who delivered them, weren’t you?”
“……”
“Even though the handwriting was different, I recognized the style. The way the information was gathered—it was yours.”
The marquis stiffened in disbelief as Chade walked toward Roman.
“And you were the one who advised me to imprison the doctors ‘for Lily’s sake.’ Was that just so you could later use it as evidence to accuse us to the crown?”
“…Yes, that’s right. But everything collapsed once that unlicensed young lady appeared.”
Roman glanced bitterly at me.
“So you must have been disappointed when I released those doctors.”
“……”
Roman let out a dry sigh, neither admitting nor denying it.
‘So Roman was the real mastermind…’
My scalp tingled as the truth hit me.
The duke’s voice was low.
“Then whose orders were you following?”
Roman smiled faintly.
“Orders? None. Everything I did was my own decision. I was only delivering justice to this duchy.”
“…What?”
“Do you know why this empire can’t truly unite, my lord? Because of this duchy.”
His tone turned scornful.
“What meaning is there in a house that refuses loyalty to the crown?”
“You dare…”
The duke growled, glaring at him.
The room was silent, tension sharp as a blade.
“Hhh… hhhh…”
Suddenly, Marquis Heres buried his face in his hands, gasping violently.
He wheezed, clutching his chest, and then collapsed heavily to the floor.
The shock had been too much.
“Heres!”
The duke rushed forward to catch him.
Alarmed, I hurried over too.
“Lay him down! Let me check! My lord, stay with us!”
I knelt by his pale face and pulled out the stethoscope I always carried.
Finally, it was useful.
“My lady, what’s happening? Is he all right?” the duke asked in panic.
But I focused only on the sounds in my ears.
Instead of steady beats, the rhythm broke into irregular thuds.
In my mind’s eye, I could almost see his heart—shaking violently like an earthquake.
…A-Fib. Atrial fibrillation.
