WMCT 03

Chapter 03

The power of “absolute rest” was immense.

So immense that even Iblea’s repeated protests that she was perfectly fine were routinely ignored, and she was not allowed to take a single step outside her bedroom.

On top of that, Dia, her maid, seemed to believe that the whole incident had happened because she herself had been ill that day. As a result, she cared for Iblea as though her life depended on it. Thanks to that, Iblea’s daily routine had become nothing but eating, sleeping, and occasionally getting examined—without lifting a single finger.

Of course, sometimes anger would rise up in her. Whenever Amy came to mind, she would act like she might storm out at any moment. But every time that happened, delicious food would suddenly appear in front of her, or all kinds of jewels would be presented before her eyes, or other strangely delightful things would occur. Inevitably, Iblea’s attention would be stolen away, and she would forget Amy entirely, grinning foolishly instead.

And behind Iblea’s back, the people of the ducal household gathered together and whispered.

“How long do you think this will last?”

“We just have to hope it lasts a long time.”

“But what’s the point if she recovers anyway?”

“Exactly. Once the young lady is healed, she’ll probably sprint straight to the underground prison. She keeps shouting ‘Amy’ every so often—it’s a mess. If she ever finds out about Amy, it’ll be chaos.”

“The Duke told us to keep it secret. He’ll handle it. We just do as we’re told.”

Those who knew the truth Iblea didn’t were deeply worried, but the person herself—completely unaware—was simply satisfied.

“It seems you can now go out for light outings.”

Felix removed the stethoscope from his ears and spoke to Duke Carlin. Iblea, who had been leaning against her bed, turned her gaze toward the Duke as well—silently urging him to grant permission immediately. The Duke didn’t seem particularly opposed and nodded easily. However—

“Today we have a guest at the ducal house, so stay in your room just for today.”

Well, that much was fine. Iblea nodded.

It had been one month and ten days since she had been confined to bed without moving.

“<When I look into your eyes, it feels as though I am gazing at sweet honey. I have no choice but to become a bee, madly drawn to your eyes. Even knowing I may drown in your deep, beautiful gaze, I cannot resist. I believe this is an inevitable law of nature, a calling of the soul. And I wish to call that love—love that risks one’s life. Ah, Lady Iblea! Do you know my feelings?>……”

Iblea could no longer endure the letter she was reading and placed it down on the table.

“So let me get this straight.”

She looked at Dia with an expression of disbelief.

Right now, Iblea was utterly dumbfounded.

“…This creepy letter was written by a guy who likes me, and his fiancée, Lady Frea, tried to sell me off to human traffickers?”

“Ah, my lady. You already heard everything from the Duke earlier.”

“I did. I did hear it, but it’s just so absurd. I was unconscious for five years because of some man I don’t even know.”

“That’s why I brought you the letter—you said you had absolutely no idea who it was.”

But the letter Dia had brought was completely useless. It didn’t help her remember anything at all. In fact, it only made her more disgusted.

She already knew which nobleman’s son he was—but even so, reading this creepy letter only worsened her mood. Words like “inevitable calling of the soul” and “love risking one’s life” were ridiculous.

“Besides, what kind of idiot sends love letters like this when he already has a fiancée?”

If she were the fiancée, she’d be furious too.

But instead of confronting her own fiancé, why take it out on me?

“Why take it out on someone else?” Iblea muttered in frustration.

“Jealousy is said to make even midsummer feel like winter frost. That’s how obsessive and terrifying it can be.”

“Exactly! Then she should’ve taken it out on her fiancé, not me! She bribed Amy! Had people from her boutique switch me into another carriage! And that carriage handed me over to traffickers!”

Her voice grew louder as she spoke. Dia quickly moved behind her and began massaging her shoulders.

“Anyway, the Frea family has already completely fallen apart. The people involved with that boutique were all dealt with by the Duke. So please calm down. If you get too worked up, your shoulders will stiffen—and then your posture won’t look good. You know that better than anyone.”

Iblea turned her golden eyes backward.

“Dia, are you seriously talking about posture right now?”

“What else am I supposed to talk about? What could be more important to a noble lady than beauty and posture?”

“…Fair point.”

Iblea poked at the crumpled letter on the table.

“What happened to that guy?”

“That would be Viscount Bection.”

“What? Viscount Bection?”

Iblea turned sharply.

The man who had given her the letter was supposed to be the second or third son of the Marquis Hyde family. But now suddenly he was Viscount Bection?

As far as she knew, Viscount Bection only had daughters.

“So that means…”

“He got married?”

“Yes.”

Dia nodded.

“Around three months after that incident.”

“Hah!”

Iblea scoffed in disbelief.

So his fiancée’s family was destroyed, I was left in a coma—and he got married? Not even years later, but just months after everything happened?

“So what, ‘love that risks one’s life’?”

How ridiculous. Whose life was actually on the line here? Hers!

Unable to contain her anger, Iblea crushed the letter again.

“Just wait until I get my hands on him.”

“You don’t really need to bother.”

“What? Why!”

“Viscount Bection is practically ruined already.”

“What do you mean?”

Dia lowered her voice.

“It seems the Duke hasn’t left him alone.”

“Father?”

“Yes. Not directly—more like through several indirect channels. Everything he touches fails, and he’s drowning in debt. He’s basically been stripped of his noble status in practice.”

“As for the Marquis Hyde family, they cut ties early to avoid getting dragged down.”

That was unexpectedly good news.

A satisfied smile replaced Iblea’s anger.

Then she narrowed her eyes.

“Dia, you’re just a maid. How do you know all this?”

“Ah, my lady. You just pick things up here and there. I do have some sense.”

“You seem to have too much ‘sense.’”

“I hear that a lot.”

Dia tucked her hair behind her ear shyly and squirmed a little.

For someone so “clueless,” she seemed awfully sharp.

“Sharp little Dia. Now guess what I’m going to do next?”

“Correct answer!”