CHAPTER 5 – The Germ-Infested Count’s Daughter
The bustling streets of Leongrad resembled scenes from a medieval film.
On one side of the red brick-paved road, a freight wagon driven by Dwayne slowly passed by.
Clip-clop, clip-clop.
Marie had gotten off the wagon at the entrance to the city and was walking.
Because of Dwayne’s large frame, there was no space left on the coachman’s bench, and they couldn’t exactly have a noble lady sitting exposed in the cargo area.
“Welcome, my lady. What kind of book are you looking for?”
The bookstore owner greeted Marie warmly.
Though the shop seemed to mainly serve aristocrats, no one recognized Marie, who had been confined in her home for a long time.
“Hello. I’m not here to buy books. I came wondering if someone might need the books I have.”
“We usually only sell books, not buy them, but… Oh! What a rare book!”
The owner’s face lit up the moment he saw the book Dwayne had brought in.
“Thank you for bringing such a precious volume to us. Please wait a moment!”
He disappeared to the back and returned with an invoice and a thick envelope filled with cash.
It was more than enough to rent a small house.
“I won’t have to sleep on the streets now.”
Just as she stepped out of the bookstore with a bright expression, she saw a familiar face getting off a carriage.
A noble lady in a red dress stood out with her dazzling blonde hair, sparkling eyes, slender figure, and tall height.
But what truly caught the eye were her luxurious dress and jeweled accessories.
She was clearly the daughter of a very wealthy family.
‘That woman… Where have I seen her before…?’
Her face was familiar, but Marie couldn’t quite place it.
“Oh my, isn’t that Lady Edith Peridan, the most beautiful noblewoman in Leongrad!”
A gentleman passing by greeted her cheerfully.
“What brings you here? Looking for something at the bookstore?”
“Yes, I stopped by to see if they got any new interior design books.”
“Oh, of course. Looking for interior design books. Is the Peridan family now leading Leongrad’s housing trends?”
Edith Peridan put on a sorrowful expression with her lovely face.
“They say the Whitehouse family has gone bankrupt. It’s such a shame.”
She pouted her bright red lips in a coy, charming way.
Anyone would say she was the epitome of a graceful and beautiful noblewoman.
“That’s right. I heard only the Count’s younger sister is left. I wonder what’ll happen to her. The family is ruined; at least she should marry well.”
Edith then whispered softly,
“It’s unfortunate. There’s a rumor she killed her parents and even consumed her brother… I wonder if anyone would marry her now.”
Her voice sounded full of concern and pity.
The gentleman asked in shock,
“What? Are you saying Count Henry Whitehouse died because of her?”
“Oh, of course. Why would someone as frugal and scholarly as Henry suddenly jump into trade? It was her—his sister’s—extravagance and wastefulness that pushed him.”
Her voice wasn’t loud, but it was just loud enough for those nearby to hear.
‘Edith… Peridan…?’
Marie repeated the name silently, trying to recall where she had seen that familiar face.
At that moment, a faint pain stirred in her chest.
It felt like an old wound hidden within the body of Marianne Whitehouse was reopening.
“Oh my, isn’t that the germ-infested Count’s daughter?”
“I heard she caught some plague and infected her parents, leading to their deaths.”
“Right, she gave them the illness and only she survived.”
“My goodness, killing your own parents—that’s horrifying!”
Years ago, Marianne had reluctantly attended a formal ball.
Henry, her brother, had forced her to go in hopes of finding her a suitable marriage partner after her long years of seclusion.
But no matter how beautifully Marianne had dressed, she couldn’t hide the years of isolation.
“Marie, lift your head a little. Try to talk to people!”
Henry had urged her gently, but Marianne never lifted her gaze.
She fidgeted nervously and kept her eyes averted.
“No one’s asking the Whitehouse girl to dance.”
No one approached her either.
“Well, of course. I heard she can’t even hold a proper conversation.”
“Yeah, she’s so timid she won’t even make eye contact.”
“Tsk, tsk, they say she’s an uneducated noble girl.”
Some gentlemen, urged by Henry, had invited her to dance.
But Marianne didn’t even respond, nor could she meet their eyes.
“My, Lady Peridan, look at that. She’s ignoring people’s kindness!”
“Indeed. I’ve never seen such an ill-mannered and uncultured noblewoman.”
“Yes, she should learn from Lady Peridan.”
“Oh, I’m only doing what I’ve been taught, hohoho.”
Then it hit her.
Edith Peridan was the very noblewoman who had mocked Marianne at that ball, calling her a “noble lady without manners or refinement.”
“Lady Peridan, you’re truly humble. A role model for all noblewomen.”
“No, I still have a lot to learn. It just seems that way in comparison to Lady Whitehouse.”
“Oh, is that it? So the Whitehouse girl was the real issue. Hahaha.”
“Hohohoho.”
Marie’s cheeks flushed red, and tears welled in her eyes.
“H-Henry… I… I want to go home. Please.”
“No. You can’t live like this forever. You have to at least try!”
In the end, Marie broke down in front of everyone.
“Please… please let me go home…”
“Can’t you try just a little? Are you going to live like this forever?”
“I… I can’t do this… Please…”
“Fine, do whatever you want!”
Henry, angry, took Marie straight home.
“I’ve done all I could. I give up.”
After that, he stopped trying to introduce her to society.
He began traveling abroad and took on interior design projects to distract himself from the suffocating atmosphere at home.
Eventually, the butler was left solely in charge of Marie, and her condition only worsened.
“Tsk, tsk. What will happen to the Whitehouse Count’s daughter now?”
Edith’s sweet voice snapped Marie out of her memories.
“Maybe she should go beg the Royal Supreme Court? So she doesn’t starve to death? Hahaha.”
“Do you think an uneducated lady like her could even do that? Hohoho.”
“…”
Marie turned to look back—Edith and the gentleman were already walking into the bookstore.
“The Royal… Supreme Court?”
Marie’s eyes sparkled.
From beside the carriage, Dwayne asked hesitantly,
“M-Miss… are we going… back to the bookstore?”
“No… I think I’ll go to the Royal Supreme Court.”
The Royal Supreme Court was filled with a solemn air.
Its stiff and plain interior design gave it the typical cold atmosphere of a government office.
“Why can’t the auction be canceled? The bond hasn’t even matured yet.”
On one side, Marianne Whitehouse stood firmly questioning a court official.
“Because the debtor, Count Whitehouse, is deceased. The maturity date no longer applies. The heirs have signed documents refusing the debt.”
The clerk responded in a flat tone, repeating the same explanation.
He was used to dealing with stubborn people who refused to accept bad news.
‘Isn’t she tired of asking when I’ve already told her no?’
This lady had been pestering him for nearly 30 minutes.
‘She’ll give up soon.’
But he hadn’t realized that Marie was deliberately asking questions.
Her first goal was to learn about Leongrad’s laws and related procedures through this official.
She needed information before she could take action.
“I’m the Count’s only blood relative. I never signed anything.”
“Let’s see… Oh, here’s a signed document.”
“Signed by Nathan Barrett?”
“Yes. As the next in line to inherit the title, Baron Barrett has the authority to sign.”
A chill ran down Marie’s spine.
“If the family head says he’ll take you in, the King will have no choice but to allow it!”
She remembered Nathan, covered in white paint, fleeing the house.
What if he really gets royal permission to marry me?
She could end up being forced into marriage.
Not only did she need to save the house, but she also needed to stop Nathan.
“Why does Nathan Barrett get to inherit the title? Isn’t it true that women can inherit titles too?”
“Yes, it’s not strictly prohibited. But female heirs must pass a very rigorous eligibility assessment.”
Marie’s face brightened.
“Is that so? Then how do I apply for the assessment?”
Even just applying could buy her some time.
“Well… it’s extremely rare to pass…”
“I still want to apply. What do I need to do?”
The clerk tilted his head, then rummaged through some documents.
Marie waited anxiously.
“Oh no… The Royal Court sent three notices. Lady Marianne Whitehouse refused delivery all three times.”
“…Refused delivery?”
“Yes. So the application period has already ended.”
“That can’t be…”
She vaguely remembered her hysteria after Henry’s death.
“Henry’s not dead! He’s not dead!”
The memories were hazy, but she must have refused to accept his passing.
She probably didn’t even read the legal notices.
“Let me see.”
“Pardon?”
“Let me personally check the refusal records.”
“…Sigh. Very well.”
The clerk sighed, showing clear annoyance, and reluctantly handed her the documents.
“This name is…”
