Chapter 46
Danae smiled softly.
“See? You’re good at something too. So just stay quiet. I’ll be the one making money.”
“Alright… but don’t push yourself too hard.”
“Don’t worry. I’ve never felt more full of energy.”
As Danae spoke, her eyes sparkled with life.
Theo stared blankly at her, then flushed red.
“Uh, Danae… if it’s nothing urgent, maybe we could go upstairs for a bit…”
Danae rolled her eyes and smacked him on the back.
“Can you not say stuff like that in front of the kids! Forget it, I’m busy—don’t even dream about it.”
She shoved Theo aside and opened the front gate.
While Livia dragged Theo away, Helena scurried over to Danae and whispered:
“Mom, leave Sister Catherine to us. You can go with an easy mind.”
“……!”
Danae’s eyes grew misty at her daughter’s pretty, smiling face. She had never spoken of it, yet her daughters already understood everything.
When had they grown so much?
In her eyes, all three of them still seemed like little babies.
But now, they had grown tall and strong, working to restore the ruined family their parents had left behind.
She felt both proud and guilty for how quickly they’d grown.
I don’t deserve daughters like them.
And so, Danae stepped forward with renewed determination.
“Such abnormal blisters… this is an illness I’ve never seen before. I can prescribe medicine to reduce her fever, but it will only bring temporary relief.”
The doctor, who claimed to have come from the southernmost provinces, finished his examination and shook his head.
Zeppelin sank into a chair, burying his face in his hands. He didn’t even have the strength left to get angry.
That makes twenty…
For nearly a week, the Empire’s most renowned physicians had examined Rebecca.
And most had only repeated that there was no hope.
A few had boasted they could cure her, but when their lies were exposed, they were beaten and thrown out.
Of course. This isn’t a disease—it’s demon’s claw poisoning.
Rebecca gasped for breath.
The symptoms were far more agonizing than she remembered.
It felt as though millions of insects were crawling under her skin, from head to toe.
If she scratched rashly, the blisters would burst, unleashing unbearable pain.
But she had no regrets.
Whenever she saw the hollow-eyed Zeppelin watching her like she was already half-dead, new strength would well up inside her.
Yet Zeppelin, though terrified of losing her, could not stop gagging at the sight of her blistered, ruined body.
Rebecca forced out words toward him.
“Zeppelin… you can stop. Let me go. I’ll be alright. You still have Alicia.”
“No. You’re my only wife, Rebecca.”
“If Alicia heard you say that, she’d be hurt.”
“I don’t care. Rebecca, how did this happen? My beautiful Rebecca…”
It might have been pitiful—but it was laughable.
There he was, sitting far away in a luxurious chair, handkerchief pressed to his nose, acting worried.
Knock, knock—
A cautious knock sounded.
Since every door had been left open to air out the stench of her body, Rebecca could easily guess who it was.
“Pardon me.”
Octavio approached Zeppelin and whispered something.
Zeppelin listened gravely, then started in alarm.
“What? At the vineyard?”
“You should go at once.”
“Damn it. Of all times…”
“Leave things to me here, and go without worry. Also—the Temple has sent word.”
“The Temple? Didn’t I say it was pointless nonsense?”
“Still, it may be the last hope. It wouldn’t hurt to try.”
“Forget it. Tell them no.”
Zeppelin waved his hand irritably, refusing Octavio’s persistence.
For a moment, annoyance flickered across Octavio’s face, then vanished.
Zeppelin turned to Rebecca and spoke gently, his eyes heavy with exhaustion.
“Rebecca, I’ll have to step out for a while. Octavio will look after you. Stay quiet.”
Stay quiet? How much quieter could she possibly be?
The phrase seemed to have become a habit of his.
Rebecca gave a faint nod.
When Zeppelin left, Octavio immediately took his chair.
He wore his usual smile, his narrow eyes glinting as he studied her from head to toe.
“Do you feel any discomfort?”
Rebecca gazed at his smiling face.
She’d long known, even in her previous life, that Zeppelin leaned on Octavio.
But she had assumed his trust was nothing more than faith in a longtime servant.
Zeppelin was not someone who opened his heart to others.
Yet after watching Octavio’s recent moves, Rebecca began to reconsider.
He had a remarkable gift for disarming people.
With only a few questions, he made servants spill their secrets—most without even realizing it.
After witnessing that several times, Rebecca’s suspicions deepened.
Could Zeppelin’s warped personality really be only his father’s doing?
Octavio was the serpent of this mansion.
A dangerous snake, coiled around its master’s neck, whispering sweet poison.
She didn’t want to imagine how many had died slowly from his bite.
Rebecca stared at him, then spoke.
“I’m fine. By the way, Octavio—what’s Kanna doing these days? It’s inconvenient, all these sudden maid changes.”
Without hesitation, Octavio replied:
“Kanna is doing well in her new duties. It seems to suit her. From what I’ve seen, the Count decided she wasn’t fit to serve you directly. The new maids are capable, so please endure it for now.”
After Robert’s death, the staff among the hunting dogs had been completely reshuffled—Octavio’s sole authority.
Perhaps suspecting Kanna’s close ties to Robert, he had banished the talented girl to the laundry.
And he seemed to have noticed Rebecca’s growing rapport with her servants, because he’d replaced Emily and Susan with new faces she didn’t know.
Confined to her bed, Rebecca was effectively bound hand and foot.
But she didn’t mind. All she had to do now was wait.
From Octavio and Zeppelin’s conversation, she gathered Julian had begun cultivating the rose grapes.
This improved strain was sturdier than other grapes, but had one weakness: the Svana aphid.
The aphids blackened the leaves and turned the fruit to mush.
It should have been a problem a month later, but Yustaf’s interference had brought it sooner.
Killing the Svana aphids required a particular pesticide.
But that poison was outlawed, leaving only one solution: the Tamara ladybug.
Since their breeding conditions were delicate, their environment had to be artificially managed.
Rebecca had told Tanisha about this method.
And Tanisha had moved swiftly.
At Rebecca’s urging to monopolize the supply, she had already bought up every Tamara ladybug across the country.
Since there hadn’t been much demand, she managed it easily.
Now that the hatchlings had emerged, Tanisha surely had more than enough to meet Zeppelin’s needs.
All that’s left is for Tanisha to rake in the money.
Rebecca smiled faintly.
“Thinking pleasant thoughts, are you?”
Octavio, never missing a beat, asked.
Rebecca studied his ever-smiling face. Come to think of it, she had rarely seen him not smiling.
“Yes. I was recalling memories with my husband.”
“Ah, of course. You two always did have enviable harmony.”
“But don’t you have much work to do? Should you really be here?”
“As it happens, I was just about to step out. I’ll call a maid for you. Please rest well.”
Octavio gave a courteous bow, his shadowy smile lingering as he left.
Almost as soon as he was gone, new maids entered.
“We’ll attend to you, madam.”
Their hands were skilled, but their movements lacked spirit, like lifeless dolls.
Cold ice packs pressed against her fevered blisters.
The biting chill made Rebecca screw her eyes shut.
If things went smoothly, waiting was no problem.
But the word “Temple,” overheard earlier, nagged at her.
Zeppelin, as a staunch imperial loyalist, had to be more cautious than anyone in dealing with the Temple.
Octavio surely knew that.
Then why involve them?
So he thinks this is a divine illness…
That thought only made Octavio’s intent more suspicious.
Would he really drag in the Temple just to cure her?
Besides, if they came to investigate, her “divine illness” would be exposed as a lie immediately.
Surely a man like Octavio didn’t actually believe the rumors of her being a saint.
So was this all just a performance?
A staged act to make it look as though he was doing everything possible to save her?
Even if the Temple exposes me as a fake saint, what does he lose?
Robert, the original accuser, was dead. Blame could be shifted onto him, and charges of blasphemy might be brushed aside.
But then…
Could I use this?
Though her limbs lay motionless, Rebecca’s mind was spinning rapidly.
“This one’s a fake. See here? The flower petal design is slightly different. It’d be better to cut ties with this seller.”
Danae spoke as she inspected the vase closely.
Tanisha widened her eyes and examined the detail Danae pointed out.
Sure enough, the catalog’s genuine design differed subtly.
While the salon building was under construction, Danae frequently visited Tanisha’s trading company to choose furnishings for it.
She had never given Tanisha her full name.
But with her golden hair, blue eyes, and distinct features, it wasn’t hard to guess that she was Danae Obelia—Rebecca’s mother.
Like mother, like daughter.
