Chapter 12
It was, without a doubt, the first time she had heard of such a thing.
Judging from how only the high priest, the clergy, and the nobles seemed aware of it, it appeared to be a top-secret matter.
Even Marquis Jonathan Blanche had never told Erica about it.
He only ever informed her about the things she needed to do, never teaching her anything beyond that.
That’s why the long days Erica would have to spend at the Grand Duke’s estate felt even more daunting.
It was then that a sudden cough burst out.
“Cough, cough.”
Her clear face contorted in an instant, turning into one filled with indescribable pain.
Her throat burned terribly.
Worried that the sound might leak outside the carriage, Erica curled her body forward.
Her wavy red hair tumbled over her shoulders as she did.
And at that moment… a memory she wanted to forget came rushing back.
Even as she coughed uncontrollably, shaking her small frame, the memory lingered.
‘It hurts… My throat burns.’
Erica wrapped one hand over her mouth and the other around her neck.
It wasn’t a cold.
No, all of this was because of what the Marquis had made her swallow just days before the wedding.
“Y-you called for me?”
“Yes, come here. Step closer.”
Nervously, Erica shuffled closer to the Marquis.
The Marquis smoothly pushed a small silver tray on his desk toward her.
“Eat this. Don’t chew. Just swallow it.”
What the Marquis presented was a glossy black bead.
It was about the size of a quail egg. She thought that with a bit of effort, she could swallow it.
But something about it felt deeply unsettling.
Erica just clasped her hands tightly and stared at the bead, unable to reach for it.
When she kept hesitating and didn’t do as she was told, the Marquis scowled and barked harshly:
“What are you waiting for? Pick it up!”
“M-Marquis…”
“I like obedient children.”
Shrinking back from his intimidating presence, Erica finally picked up the bead with trembling hands.
Glancing back and forth between the bead and the Marquis several more times, she reluctantly swallowed it.
And in that very moment—
“Cough! Cough!”
A violent cough burst from her lips before she could stop it.
It felt as if the bead had suddenly expanded inside her throat the moment she swallowed it.
Instantly, her airway felt blocked, and her esophagus began to burn.
“Urgh… urk…”
Erica clawed desperately at her throat.
Was she going to die like this?
The thought flashed through her mind.
Tears welled at the corners of her eyes. She doubled over from the burning sensation and pain, but it didn’t ease at all.
Breathing became difficult.
‘Why…?’
With great effort, Erica lifted her gaze to look at the Marquis.
Even though she was in such agony, he didn’t even blink. He just stood there, silently watching.
How much time passed like that?
At long last, the coughing fit subsided.
Drenched in tears, Erica collapsed weakly to the floor, gasping for breath.
“You disrespectful thing. How long do you plan to lie there in front of your master?”
At the sharp scolding, Erica forced herself up on trembling arms.
The foreign sensation in her throat still lingered.
“Don’t worry. You won’t die.”
The Marquis spoke with a sly smile.
“As long as you keep your promise, that is.”
“…Marquis?”
“I can’t fully trust you. So I prepared a little safety measure.”
The Marquis briefly explained the power of the bead.
“If you ever reveal the secret that you’re not my daughter to anyone… that bead will explode inside your throat. You’ll die instantly.”
As if taking Julia hostage wasn’t enough, now even Erica’s life was being held as collateral.
Jonathan Blanche had smiled brightly as he said that.
No matter how much she tried to forget that face, it wouldn’t leave her mind.
Erica shuddered, disgusted by the Marquis’s cruelty.
Thankfully, the coughing began to subside.
When she first swallowed the bead, she had nearly passed out.
Since then, the coughing would erupt out of nowhere, sometimes making her cough up blood.
It had never stopped this quickly before.
‘Maybe… the blessing the old priest gave me before leaving the capital is working?’
That would be nice. It would mean less pain from now on.
‘Anyway… Everyone knows Lady Erica was frail since childhood. No one will find it strange if I cough a bit.’
That was a relief, at least.
But it still felt sad.
The real her… had always been healthy.
Erica lifted her curled-up body like a pill bug.
But her body still felt heavy and powerless, like waterlogged cotton.
Thunk.
Her head naturally leaned against the carriage wall.
If Bonfiju saw her like this, she’d definitely have something to say… But who cared? She wasn’t here right now.
Erica slowly closed her eyes.
When would they arrive at the Grand Duke’s estate?
And when would she finally get a chance to meet Sebastian alone?
Thinking of such things… she unknowingly drifted off to sleep.
Knock knock.
A polite knock startled Erica awake.
H-How long had she slept?
She couldn’t tell how much time had passed.
Before she could gather herself, the knock sounded again.
Erica cleared her throat and barely managed to respond in a small voice.
“…Yes? Who is it?”
“It’s Milord.”
“Ah! Yes!”
Only then did she realize the carriage had stopped.
Without opening the door, Milord continued speaking.
“We’ll be resting here for today. If you’re able, please step out and join us for a meal.”
“Y-yes. I’ll come down soon.”
Soon, the sound of his footsteps faded.
Erica hurriedly wiped her eyes and smoothed down her messy hair.
Then she quickly tidied up her clothes.
Because the moment she stepped out, Bonfiju would surely appear right by her side.
Taking a deep breath, Erica stepped out with a nervous face.
And just as expected—Bonfiju, with hawk-like eyes, quickly approached.
In a low voice, she swiftly whispered:
“Lady Erica. Please, try to speak up today.”
Bonfiju, who used to skip formal speech when they were alone, now addressed her properly—likely conscious of all the watching eyes.
But that was about the only change. Her attitude was still irreverent and bold.
When Erica didn’t answer, Bonfiju kept urging her.
“Did you hear me? I said, please talk to the young master today.”
With a troubled face, Erica bit her lower lip and barely whispered back:
“B-but… I don’t think the young master would listen to me…”
Her hesitant tone deepened the furrow between Bonfiju’s brows.
Glancing quickly around—probably worried the Grand Duke’s knights might overhear—Bonfiju hissed back in a voice barely louder than a crawling ant:
“You’ve got nothing to lose, right? At least try saying something!”
This was exactly why Erica hadn’t wanted to get out of the carriage.
She sighed internally.
For days now, it had been the same conversation on repeat.
The head maid constantly pestering her, poking at her side, urging her for just one thing.
To ask Sebastian… if Bonfiju could ride in the same carriage.
Having experienced that horrible carriage from the Marquis’s house herself, Erica fully understood.
That old, battered thing was a miracle it hadn’t broken down already.
Naturally, Bonfiju, who had been riding in it all this time, must have suffered endlessly.
Some time had passed since the wedding, and with Sebastian seeming to lose interest in Erica, Bonfiju’s courage was slowly growing back.
But even so… she still couldn’t bring herself to speak to Sebastian directly.
After all… she’d nearly been strangled by him once.
So now, at every opportunity, she pressured the comparatively ‘easier’ Erica.
