IDNT 13

Chapter 13

“Sonnet, is this…?”

“Sorry. Next time, I’ll propose properly. I was in too much of a hurry today.”

Sonnet gripped Layla’s hand tightly and lowered his head. He was holding her so firmly that she couldn’t pull away even if she wanted to.

As if he was afraid she might let go.

“Because that doctor is way too handsome.”

“Huh? You mean Rain…?”

“Yeah.”

Layla also knew Rain was good-looking. But that couldn’t be the reason he was confessing like this.

“I washed my hands thoroughly.”

Hearing that made Layla realize Sonnet was conscious of Rain.

‘Do you know how many germs are on hands? If you catch a simple cold, you’ll be bedridden for days, and yet you don’t even care about the germs from other people’s hands.’

In the original story, those two didn’t get along either. Sonnet only came to his senses much later, around the time Sieber married Rainier.

After Sieber’s marriage, Sonnet interfered with Rainier at every turn. He even accumulated military achievements and rose to the rank of duke.

“Rain’s a doctor. I think he spoke harshly because he was concerned. It would be good to follow his advice, though it’s not easy to do everything.”

Not that it mattered much—Rain wasn’t even a real doctor.

Even if it were an actual doctor and not Rainier, Layla wouldn’t have trusted him. He was probably someone planted to kill her.

“Sonnet.”

“Yeah?”

“I’d like some time to think.”

“Sorry. I was being stupid. Still, I hope you’ll think about it in a good way.”

If she hadn’t seen his face and heard his voice, she wouldn’t even have considered the possibility that he was sincere—it would obviously be a lie.

But his reddened eyes, ears about to burst, and flushed face looked almost genuine.

“Alright.”

That’s why she answered that way.

If she could survive by using him, then maybe it wasn’t such a bad method.

The next day, Sonnet stopped by the Aviere Count’s estate.

“Lady Layla is still asleep.”

Catherine, who was waiting at the entrance, spoke as soon as he arrived. Sonnet smiled kindly and replied,

“I’m here as someone else’s guest today.”

“Pardon?”

“This way, young lord.”

One of the countess’s maids, standing behind Catherine, led him inside.

As he followed, Sonnet thought her expression seemed a little fake.

Layla’s room was on the third floor. Most nobles had their private rooms on the third floor. So Layla’s, Sieber’s, and the Count’s rooms were all there.

What was unusual was that the Count’s office was on the fifth floor, while the Countess’s office was on the third.

Originally, the Countess’s office had also been on the fifth floor, but she had cleared out the library on the third floor and turned it into her study.

Sonnet vaguely understood the reason.

Layla’s mother had originally been an attendant of the current Countess, Sieber’s mother.

When Layla’s mother became pregnant, she made excuses about being abroad with her parents and left, only to return after childbirth to resume her affair with the Count.

Layla probably didn’t know the full story, but Sonnet knew that what he knew wasn’t exactly a secret—anyone in the know had heard about it.

That was why the current Countess hated Layla.

Unlike Sonnet, who had been born a commoner, Layla’s mother had been a noble from birth. And Layla resembled her mother astonishingly.

Someone who stirred up that kind of guilt could never be seen kindly.

Sonnet suddenly recalled the room where he had faced Layla and unconsciously lowered his gaze.

“Young lord?”

“N-No, nothing.”

Snapping out of it, he continued toward the Countess’s office.

When he opened the door, a floral scent filled the room. The office had been arranged like a garden.

Sonnet found himself staring blankly at the white hydrangeas there.

‘Sonnet, you’re so pretty too.’

He remembered Layla tucking a flower behind his ear and covered his mouth unconsciously.

“What’s wrong?”

“No, nothing. Greetings, Countess.”

“Welcome, Viscount Bruce.”

The Countess gestured for him to sit, so Sonnet walked toward the terrace where she sat and took a seat in the shaded spot facing her.

“Bring some tea.”

“Yes, my lady.”

When the servants withdrew, the Countess crossed her legs the other way and looked at Sonnet.

“I’ve prepared what you asked for. But will this really work?”

“It will. That child is very easy.”

As she accepted the documents he handed over, the Countess glanced at his golden eyes.

“Didn’t Layla love young lord Hugo?”

“She’ll love anyone she can depend on. Just like her mother.”

Sonnet didn’t know how to respond, so he stayed silent for a moment. Then, curiosity got the better of him.

“Were you really the former Countess’s maid?”

“You already knew that. Why ask?”

“Then it’s true that you and Layla’s mother…”

“Who knows?”

She swept her black hair—identical to Sieber’s—back and lifted her chin as she looked at him. Sonnet thought that unlike the careless Sieber, this woman was anything but careless.

“I was the first one to bear his child.”

“…”

“Does that explain it?”

“…Yes.”

Sonnet understood the implication.

The fact that Sieber was older than Layla was enough to show how deep the Count’s relationship with her had been. Not to mention the fact that she was brought in as his mistress the day after the former wife’s funeral.

“This is missing a signature and name.”

The Countess pointed at the document she had been scanning, now laid on the desk.

“I left that blank on purpose. Layla might change her mind.”

“You don’t need to worry. I heard you two were embracing each other yesterday.”

Sonnet remembered catching Layla when she nearly collapsed. Heat suddenly surged through him, and he scratched the paper with his nail, leaving a long mark on the corner.

“Are you really saying you don’t need a dowry, Viscount?”

“Yes.”

The Countess looked at him as if he were naïve. She looked so much like Sieber that Sonnet frowned as yesterday’s memory of Sieber’s actions toward him surfaced.

“If you need a dowry, I can arrange it. Just make it look like it came from the Aviere family.”

“Layla isn’t a child worth that much.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Clink.

A maid entered, and both stopped talking. After the servants finished arranging the teapot and cups and left, the Countess spoke again.

“I hear you have a mistress, Viscount?”

At those words, Sonnet clenched his fist slightly.

“When Layla dies, you plan to disguise that mistress as Layla, don’t you?”

“What…”

“I heard the mistress has pink hair. Blue eyes too. No matter how beautiful Layla is, if she’s been locked up in a mansion for ten years, not many will recognize her. In ten years, she might not even be the Layla we know.”

The Countess stirred her tea with a teaspoon, then set it down gracefully before taking a sip.

“She’d make a perfect substitute.”

“Countess.”

“If you think I’m a fool, that would be a mistake, Viscount.”

The steam rising from the tea felt unpleasant on Sonnet’s face as he leaned back and glared at her.

“There is no mistress, Countess.”

“Sure, if you say so.”

Seeing his angry eyes, she spoke in a soothing tone, as if to say she didn’t truly doubt herself.

“If this is a misunderstanding, then I apologize. Even if she’s not my real daughter, I do want Layla to marry someone good.”

Despite her sly smile, Sonnet didn’t touch the tea.

He simply waited as she finished reviewing the proposal he had brought.

“Time to get up.”

“Mmm…”

Even though the sun had fully risen and it was already midday, Layla didn’t want to get up. Normally, she would’ve been too sick to rise, but since yesterday her body felt incredibly light.

That made her want to sleep even more—not because she felt ill, but because she felt good and wanted to enjoy lying down leisurely.

“My lady.”

At the low murmur, her eyes shot open.

“Rain? In a patient’s room like this…!”

“It’s time for your medicine.”

“Oh.”

For a moment, she had thought something had changed since he hadn’t brought her medicine after becoming her doctor. But in the end, he still brought it to her, and she felt a twinge of disappointment.

“Usually, the maids bring it.”

“I have a strong sense of professional duty. I plan to feed it to you myself.”

So he really came to poison her?

Layla stared at him intently, thinking that.

Seeing her eyes brim with wariness, Rainier turned his gaze away and spoke quietly.

“Even if you look at me like that, you still have to take it.”

“Just leave it there. I’ll drink it.”

“You have to take it in front of me.”

Faced with Rainier’s firmness, Layla didn’t know what to do and just stared at him. When their eyes met, he deliberately looked away again.