IWPU 19

Chapter 19

“Ha, ha—don’t.”

“What do you mean ‘don’t’? Are you some kind of gigolo luring rich ladies? A host? Huh?”

I grabbed Rant’s cheek and pulled hard. His plump cheek stretched easily as I applied pressure.

“You think just because you’re a little older now, you can ignore what your noona says, huh?”

Rant grabbed my hand. My palm still rested on his cheek, now covered by his own warm hand.

“Your words are like the heavens to me. I haven’t forgotten.”

There was tenderness in his dark brown eyes.

“What happened at the palace?”

Rant gently pulled my hand down. I let go of his cheek. It was a little red, but unlike when he was younger, it didn’t show too much. The herbs the butler had been bringing for his skin seemed to be working.

“Yeah, I got bitten by a mad dog.”

A huge, rabid one at that.

“Did you get hurt?”

Rant quickly scanned my body.

I shook my head, and Rant let out a sigh of relief. I pulled him into a hug. Just a year ago, I had to bend down to hug him. Now that he’d grown so much, it was the other way around.

“You smell like sweat.”

Despite looking uncomfortable, Rant hugged me back. He smelled like warm sunshine.

“Miss!”

Just as I was being comforted in Rant’s warm embrace, someone called for me urgently. I turned my head toward the voice. Mari was running toward me from the main building, out of breath.

“Miss, it’s an emergency!”

Mari looked extremely flustered.

“We’ve just received word—Count Peaceon is critically ill!”

Count Peaceon returned exactly two months after leaving that day. Coincidence or not, it was the same day he had once “died.” He moved into a mansion close to the Ellient estate.

The Ellient family lived on Elberod Street—one of the most expensive neighborhoods in the imperial capital, reserved for high-ranking nobles. Even if you had money, getting a house there wasn’t easy. Yet within just two short months, the Count had managed not only to buy a mansion but also completely renovate it.

The Count frequently traveled between the Peaceon and Ellient estates, always wanting to talk with me. As if trying to make up for the years he’d ignored me, he devoted most of his time to me.

He was an excellent conversationalist—well-traveled, knowledgeable, and witty, like a seasoned merchant. He told me fascinating stories about strange customs in foreign countries, his own experiences, and amusing tales he had picked up along the way. Sometimes, he spoke about the Marchioness—her childhood, and the happy times they’d shared. But every time he spoke of her, his face twisted in sorrow. It was clear her suicide had left a deep scar.

He grieved most for the nanny.

The Count returned shortly after the nanny had been expelled. To him, she had been like a daughter—the Marchioness. He was devastated that someone he’d known since her childhood had committed such a crime. He apologized to me, the Marquis, and Rant, blaming himself for everything.

He tried to track down the nanny, but to no avail. For a man with a powerful merchant guild to fail meant she was intentionally hiding. Eventually, he gave up looking.

Though he hadn’t followed the Marchioness in death like he had once tried, he was clearly a shadow of his former self. Despite the Marchioness’s efforts to help with restorative medicine and nutritious food, nothing worked. Her death had drained him—physically and emotionally.

As time passed, even moving became a struggle. For the past few months, he hadn’t even been able to get out of bed. Everyone around him had slowly begun preparing themselves for the inevitable.

And today might be the day.

I instructed Mari to prepare the carriage. She left the training hall immediately. Rant looked at me, concern written all over his face.

“Are you okay?”

The Count was the first person to truly treat me like family after acknowledging who I was. No matter how much I had tried to prepare myself for this day, I wasn’t okay.

“I’d be lying if I said I was.”

Rant hugged me tightly. His warm hand slowly rubbed my back. Even he didn’t offer empty reassurances. Somehow, he too sensed this might be the end.

“Should I come with you?”

From the Count’s perspective, Rant was an uncomfortable presence—possibly one of the reasons his daughter took her life. Yet the Count neither hated nor resented him. He pitied him, knowing the hardships of being an illegitimate child. Still, that didn’t change the fact that Rant was a painful reminder of his daughter’s death.

The Count treated Rant kindly, but couldn’t hide the sadness in his eyes whenever he saw him—his daughter’s shadow always lingering.

Rant, perceptive as always, avoided the Count when he visited. I didn’t stop him.

Though neither intended harm, their mere presence caused each other pain. It was better they didn’t meet.

It would have comforted me if Rant came along, but the Peaceon family didn’t see him kindly. They didn’t know the full truth behind the Marchioness’s death, but they did know Rant arrived at the Ellient estate right after her passing. Even if it wasn’t his fault, they didn’t like him.

Out of respect for the Count and me, they never said anything outright, but the atmosphere was clear. Today, the Peaceon estate would be filled with family members who had been summoned because of the Count’s condition. I didn’t want to bring Rant into that.

“I’ll be fine.”

“But…”

I slipped out of Rant’s arms and headed to the carriage waiting outside the training hall. Rant followed behind, still visibly worried. Mari had worked quickly— the carriage was already waiting at the main building.

The Marquis was standing by the carriage. When he saw me coming, he stepped inside first.

“Go in. I’ll be back soon.”

“Yes, please return safely.”

Rant hugged me again. He didn’t say a word, but I could feel his concern—worried I’d be hurt again. I patted his back twice, letting him know I’d be alright.

Sensing the urgency, Rant released me, and I climbed into the carriage with his eyes still on me.

The Marquis was already seated. I sat opposite him, and the carriage began moving. The Peaceon estate was just over ten minutes away by carriage. I wished we could get there faster.

As I sat with my head down, anxious, a warm hand covered the back of my right hand.

Startled, I looked up—blue eyes met mine. The Marquis’s gaze was steady and strong. Somehow, that steadiness comforted me. I managed a shaky smile. He tightened his grip slightly, and didn’t let go until we arrived.

“Welcome, Marquis.”

“Welcome, young lady.”

The Peaceon household staff greeted us as we stepped down from the carriage.

I barely acknowledged them as I rushed into the mansion. Normally, noble bedrooms were located on the second floor—for safety, to allow time in case of emergencies. But the Count’s was on the ground floor, a decision made by the Marchioness due to his declining health.

Inside, the atmosphere was surprisingly calm. Servants quietly stepped aside as I passed, bowing their heads. I headed toward the Count’s room. I’d visited enough to know the way well.

“El?”

“Bi?”

A small girl stood in front of the Count’s room. I called her name and approached.

El was the daughter of the Count and the late Marchioness. This time, the child had survived. But perhaps because she had escaped a death she was originally fated for, she was born frail.

“Why are you here alone?”

Instead of answering, El reached out her arms. I picked her up. Her tiny maple leaf-like hands gently felt my face. She was blind—a congenital condition that couldn’t be cured.

She hugged my neck. She was scared. The Count was her father, and even though she was young, she could sense the change in atmosphere.

“I want to go see Daddy.”

El whispered softly. She must’ve been waiting by the door, unable to go in.

“Where’s your nanny?”

El didn’t answer—she just rubbed her face into my chest. I understood. No one wanted a child to see their dying parent. They’d likely tried to keep her away from his room.

Despite the chaos, I couldn’t imagine the Marchioness leaving El alone. She must have slipped away from her nanny and come here by herself.

“El, you can’t wander alone.”

She didn’t respond. I gently patted her back.

Just as I was deciding whether to bring her in, the bedroom door opened. A young man in his early twenties stepped out. He bowed to me and the Marquis.

“It’s been a while, Marquis.”

The Marquis gave him a nod, acknowledging him in silence. I didn’t recognize him, but the Marquis clearly did.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. Lady, I’m Evan Lee.”

Evan Lee Peaceon!

The moment I heard his name, I remembered. He was the Count’s heir.

He had suddenly appeared after the Count’s death and declared as his successor, shocking everyone—especially the Peaceon family.