Chapter 38 – A Tipping Point
After the meeting, Bella left the confused retainers in Caelan’s care and made her rounds through the ducal estate, letting the staff know that she had awakened.
Her sudden reappearance turned the entire manor upside down.
“L-Lady Bella?!”
“What are you talking about? Lady Bella’s still in her bedcham—huh?!”
“Lady Bella?!”
Every servant who caught sight of her froze in place, murmuring “My lady? My lady?” like they were seeing a ghost. But once they saw her smile and calmly continue walking, they began hopping in place with joy, unable to contain themselves.
They didn’t dare approach her directly, but they hovered nearby, whispering to one another, giggling with delight. Seeing this, Bella was reminded of what Jena had said before she collapsed—it had been true.
Servants peeked out from every corner to check on the commotion, their eyes widening when they recognized her. They rubbed their eyes, unable to believe what they were seeing.
Only the butler—who had seen her awaken that morning—remained composed. Still, there was a subtle hint of resentment and hurt in his gaze, and Bella gave him an awkward smile as she looked away.
It wasn’t until she stepped back into her bedroom that she was finally free of the attention.
Originally, she had planned to go straight to the study. But when the butler followed her, determined to block her way with a firm “you are not entering” expression, she gave in and returned to her room.
“Milady…”
Jena was waiting for her there.
“Yes, Jena.”
“Are you really all right?”
“I am. You don’t need to worry.”
Bella looked silently at Jena, who stood with her hands clasped and tears welling in her eyes.
She didn’t know what kind of expression she was making, but when their eyes met, Jena’s lips trembled and lifted slightly in a shaky smile—before she finally burst into sobs.
It reminded Bella of when Jena had once fallen to the ground, pleading for help. But this time, her tears were different.
“I-I’m sorry, milady… I’m so sorry because of me… hngh—!”
“Yes.”
The apology was familiar, but this time it was laced with overwhelming relief—as though the worst had passed and she could finally breathe again.
It reminded Bella of the day Jena first confessed everything to her.
She had been trembling then.
It was a late evening, long after everyone had gone to bed, when Jena knocked on Bella’s door.
She entered, visibly distressed, her face crumpled. She hesitated as soon as their eyes met, and a flash of regret crossed her face.
But then she closed her eyes, braced herself, and spoke as if expelling a final breath.
“Milady… there’s something I must confess.”
At the time, Bella had already begun investigating Jena.
So she had expected something, but the truth Jena revealed was far beyond what she’d imagined.
“I… I’ve committed a terrible sin, milady. My younger sister… she’s being held hostage. I had no choice. Hngh…!”
Her sister was in the hands of the viscount. He’d threatened her: obey or her sister would die. Jena had followed orders without resistance.
She hadn’t known the full extent of what she was involved in. But when she realized her actions were harming Bella, guilt consumed her.
Despite Bella’s status as duchess, she had always been kind to the staff—and to Jena. That warmth had shaken her.
“The assistant head cook… she’s involved too. When I sent money to the Ahoa Trading Company, I think some sort of item was sent to the assistant cook in return. One day I was late sending the payment, and the assistant head cook came straight to me. She said I must never delay again.”
“Do you know what the item was?”
“I didn’t hear exactly, but… but…”
“Yes?”
Unable to speak, she clutched her chest and began crying again. Bella waited, letting her cry it out.
“She showed me a black powder. Mixed with pepper.”
Black powder.
Bella’s mind flashed back to the day Raina and Haldeir ruined her portrait. She had overheard a strange conversation among the maids.
“You didn’t know? The assistant cook collapsed, saying she was sick.”
“I saw her sneak a bunch of pepper into the soup behind the head cook’s back.”
“She’d asked to borrow money from the head cook, got turned down, and now she’s messing with food? That’s crazy.”
“And then she accidentally inhaled the pepper herself and ran out looking like she’d seen death!”
She had dismissed it as gossip at the time, never imagining the assistant cook’s malicious acts were hidden in those whispers.
Jena continued.
“She said it causes infertility… that black powder…”
Infertility.
Bella felt her breath catch, her hand instinctively resting on her stomach.
In her previous life, she’d been told her womb was unusually cold—she hadn’t been born that way. It had been the viscount’s doing all along.
She remembered the doctor’s vague explanation and the grim conclusion that she would likely never conceive.
She hadn’t known how to react back then. She’d sat in shock until nightfall, then cried beneath the covers.
She’d never specifically dreamed of having a family. But that didn’t mean she hadn’t wanted one. Watching children cling to their mothers had made her long for someone to look at her that way.
In both timelines, the viscount had stolen that from her.
The only difference now was Jena—who had chosen to confess and give her a chance to fight back.
All because she had spoken kindly to a servant a few more times.
If she’d done the same in her past life, maybe she could’ve known and prepared sooner.
Why hadn’t she?
“I’m sorry… so sorry, milady…”
Lost in thought, Bella heard Jena add that the viscount had insisted she serve Bella warm ilang tea—never cold or even lukewarm.
Bella asked, “But sometimes you’d suggest other teas, or bring me lukewarm ilang…”
“Yes, milady.”
“Was that on purpose?”
“Y-yes…”
When Jena prepared the tea herself, it was often less hot. Bella had thought nothing of it—any ilang scent had been fine. But now she knew it wasn’t a mistake.
She looked down at Jena, who was kneeling at her feet.
Jena had followed the viscount’s orders. But she had also resisted in secret—and confessed it all in the end.
Why had she?
Guilt? A sudden change of heart?
“Jena. Why are you telling me all this now?”
“Ah, that’s…”
Jena hesitated, then pulled out a crumpled note from her chest and handed it over.
“It’s a letter from my sister. She sent it to me in secret.”
Jena had been saving every bit of extra pay Bella had given her to secretly support her sister. Her sister, in turn, paid someone to pass the letter along without the viscount’s knowledge.
Unni, I hate that you’re doing bad things because of me.
Remember what Mom and Dad said?
That doing bad things leads to punishment.
I don’t want you to get punished because of me.
Nobody here’s giving me medicine anyway. I think they’re letting me die.
So I’ll take the punishment for the bad things you’ve done.
But from now on, promise me you’ll only do good things.
I love you.
Jena wept uncontrollably, showing Bella the note with its smudged ink and rushed handwriting.
Whether the tears were Jena’s or her sister’s, the message bore both their pain.
Watching Jena sob so violently, Bella made up her mind—this girl could change everything.
“Jena. Stand up.”
“Hngh… I’m so sorry, milady…”
“You’ve got a lot of work to do now.”
“Wh-what?”
After hearing her story, Bella had entered the assistant cook’s room and swapped the black powder with real pepper.
It had been pre-mixed, so the scent fooled her. She continued using it without a second thought.
Bella also told Jena to fake destroying the past letters and, when the viscount next asked about her condition, to reply that Bella was still unconscious and gravely ill.
The viscount took the bait.
Bella left clues for Caelan to discover that she had awakened. He caught on immediately and joined the inner conflict erupting within the duchy.
He would’ve learned everything through the Blue Raven already—he was ready.
And the viscount fell.
To the weeping Jena, Bella offered a final gift.
“Your sister will be here soon.”
Jena collapsed where she knelt, covering her face as she cried with relief.
She tried to thank Bella but couldn’t form the words. Instead, she pressed her palms together and bowed repeatedly.
Bella looked out the window and saw the knights returning through the gates.
“They’re here.”
Jena looked up and, with a cry like a wounded animal, ran out of the room.
Bella smiled faintly and walked to the window.
“@#%%**!!!”
Soon after, a small girl leapt from the carriage and threw herself into Jena’s arms. They held each other tightly, sobbing and shouting.
Jena’s younger sister gently patted her on the back—almost like the older sibling.
Bella chuckled softly at the reversal.
Then, she saw Sir Roim—who had rescued the girl—bow deeply toward her from the gates.
She smiled and waved back.
Everything had gone according to plan.
The next day, Bella finally broke through the butler’s resistance and entered the study.
Only after promising she’d work no more than four hours a day.
“Did you finish wrapping the gifts I asked for from the ducal estate?”
“Yes, milady.”
She pulled two letters from her drawer—ones she had written before collapsing—and rewrote them, adjusting the dates.
“I’ll take them myself in three days. Make sure they’re loaded into the carriage that morning.”
“For escort—”
“Same as last time. Just three.”
“Milady…”
She ignored the butler’s look of exasperation and continued revising the letter.
“It’s a crowded area. I’ll be fine this time. Please don’t worry so much.”
In just those few words, the butler looked as if he’d aged ten years.
Bella offered a sheepish smile and handed him the letters.
“This one’s for Bayron Orphanage. The other—”
Even the days she’d spent unconscious felt wasted.
She had to use every bit of this position to prepare for what lay three years ahead.
Oksana’s ring.
And—
“Send the rest to Parome Atelier.”
The future’s finest jewelry guild in the empire.
