Chapter 26

‘W-what?’

The Countess was so shocked that she froze stiff.

Since she had no way of knowing that Bunny came from the slums, the revelation was nothing short of a massive shock.

Her pupils trembled as if shaken by an earthquake as she asked,

“L-Lady… How did your hands… Why are they so rough?”

A child who was said to be frail and raised with the utmost care within the household—how could this be?

‘Come to think of it, why are her clothes so worn-out?’

The Countess exchanged glances with the other noblewomen before silently shifting her gaze between Fluvia and Doha.

Yet, despite their suspicious stares, Fluvia remained unshaken.

Instead, her golden eyes shimmered with overflowing concern, as if she were on the verge of tears.

“The physician said so.”

She stepped forward, positioning herself in front of Doha as if to divert the attention fixated on her.

“To treat the infection, she had to frequently cleanse her body and hands with strong medicine.”

Taking Doha’s hands in hers, Fluvia gently stroked them. Her voice, restrained and thick with bitter emotions, held a suppressed sorrow.

“What’s the point of having a saintess for a mother? I’ve always felt guilty… Because of my powerlessness, my poor daughter’s hands have become this rough.”

Hah.

Doha barely managed to swallow back a scoff. It was such a flawless performance that she couldn’t help but respect Fluvia in a twisted way.

Every time Fluvia’s hands touched hers, it felt as if insects were crawling on her skin.

While Doha struggled to keep herself from recoiling, Fluvia continued to stroke her hands tenderly and spoke in a benevolent tone.

“But my dear, your body hasn’t fully recovered yet. How did you end up here?”

“My room felt too stuffy.”

“You still have a long way to go before you’re completely healed. You were gravely ill, remember? And now you’re so pitifully thin…”

Fluvia took off her fur coat and draped it over Doha’s shoulders.

“The northern winter is harsh, my dear. Wearing such nightclothes outside is dangerous. No matter how much you treasure that outfit, it’s still too risky.”

With swift, practiced movements, she buttoned up the coat before anyone could get a proper look.

Doha’s tattered clothing was now completely hidden beneath the luxurious garment.

‘She’s really something else.’

The dress she had worn wasn’t of high quality, but it wasn’t shabby enough to be outright suspicious either.

If Fluvia claimed it was just an old nightgown she cherished, there wouldn’t be much reason to question it.

“Ahem, so that’s what it was. No wonder… I should’ve known.”

The Countess, embarrassed by her mistaken assumption, averted her gaze and mumbled to herself.

“I went to the temple every day to pray for you. I begged the gods to heal my daughter… If something were to happen to you again, I…”

Fluvia bowed her head deeply.

The ladies of the Lily Society already found Doha pitiable.

Now, feeling both guilty and ashamed for having doubted Fluvia, they hurried to console her.

“Yes, as the Duchess said, it would be best for you to return.”

“Even if this is a greenhouse, the cold air still seeps in. If your condition worsens again, it would be terrible.”

The noblewomen seemed eager to send Doha away as quickly as possible.

But if she had intended to back down this easily, she wouldn’t have shown up in the first place.

“M-Mother, p-please don’t cry!”

Doha, appearing flustered, fidgeted anxiously before throwing herself into Fluvia’s arms.

“Guh!”

Oh? Was that her solar plexus?

Fluvia, having been hit in an unfortunate spot by Doha’s head, stumbled backward from the impact.

Yet Doha clung to her tightly, nestling into her embrace while making small sniffling noises.

“I’m really all better now. The physician even said my malnutrition is almost completely cured. If Mother is sad, then Ophelia will be sad too…”

…What? Malnutrition?

The noblewomen were horrified at the mention of malnutrition—an affliction only suffered by the impoverished.

However, what they witnessed next was even more shocking.

“Gasp!”

“Oh my goodness…!”

As the two figures tumbled to the ground, their disheveled clothing shifted, revealing the hem of the undergarment beneath Doha’s dress.

‘My word… The Lady’s chemise has holes in it?’

For the first time, the noblewomen laid eyes on worn and tattered clothing. Naturally, such garments were always replaced long before reaching this state.

And this was the Kredel family—a house unparalleled in wealth and power!

‘The Grand Duchess’s chemise is perfectly fine. In fact, it’s of the highest quality.’

‘But the Lady’s… What kind of fabric is that? It’s so old I can’t even tell.’

The stark contrast was even more apparent where the fabrics touched directly.

While a worn nightgown could be explained away, there was no excuse for undergarments in such a deplorable state.

This was an era of peace, an era defined by Ophelia—the very symbol of their time. And yet, they had allowed such a symbolic figure to fall into this condition?

‘The young lords of the family are well-mannered and always impeccably dressed. Could it be… they treat their daughter differently because she’s weak?’

‘Even if she was too ill to be educated properly, she should have learned some etiquette just by growing up in the household. But for her to be this ignorant of noble customs… It is strange.’

‘Were her hands really damaged by medicine?’

‘…This is abuse, isn’t it?’

All of this happened in the brief moment that Fluvia was too distracted by the pain in her solar plexus to react.

She was acutely aware of the eyes on her but couldn’t bring herself to push Doha away—not when the girl was clinging to her like an octopus.

‘This wretched girl…’

Grinding her teeth, she lifted her head—only to flinch.

The noblewomen of the Lily Society were gazing down at her with expressions tinged with quiet disillusionment.

Fluvia’s rise to prominence within the Lily Society—a group with considerable influence in high society—was due to two primary reasons.

She was the wife of Grand Duke Kredel.

And she was a former saintess.

More than anyone, she was seen as the embodiment of the society’s core value: noblesse oblige.

Yet now, a situation had arisen that suggested this benevolent saintess had been treating her stepdaughter just as the worst of stepmothers would.

The noblewomen were on the verge of deep disappointment—

“Hhic…”

Fluvia silenced the growing controversy with the simplest of tactics.

“In truth, I hadn’t mentioned this before because it was a family matter, but while my child was sick, the maids…”

She revealed the whole truth.

That the ailing young lady had been isolated in a tower due to an epidemic, and that the very maids assigned to care for her had instead subjected her to cruel abuse.

Of course, she conveniently left out the part where she had orchestrated it all.

It was only a strategic omission—after all, the rest of the story was entirely true. And with the saintly image she had carefully built over the years, this explanation was more than enough.

She had never laid a hand on Ophelia herself, after all.

“She still insists on wearing those clothes because she hasn’t yet escaped the trauma of that time. I understand… I, too, haven’t been able to free myself from the guilt.”

There was no need to bring up the former head maid.

Judging by the expressions on the noblewomen’s faces, Fluvia’s practiced performance had already won them over.

“I never imagined that the maids I trusted and cherished would betray me in such a way. What kind of incompetent mother does that make me?”

“How could this possibly be your fault? The blame lies with those wicked maids who took advantage of your kindness.”

“I fear that Ophelia resents me for it… That she thinks I don’t love her because I’m not her birth mother…”

“Don’t say such things, Duchess. Dry your tears now. You must remain strong.”

“You’re right. If I want to do what’s best for my child, I can’t allow myself to break down like this.”

Dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief, Fluvia spoke in a trembling voice.

Her delicate fingers, clutching the fabric tightly, quivered pitifully.

Viscount Liden…

That sniveling wretch had failed to contain this foolish girl’s outburst, forcing her to step in personally.

Beneath the soft silk veil of her demure expression, her golden eyes gleamed with an ominous glint—far from the noblewomen’s sight.

* * *

“…My Lady.”

Viscount Liden forced a smile as he spoke.

The slight tremor beneath his eyes made it painfully obvious that he was barely restraining himself from snapping outright.

“Why… did you do that?”

“Do what?”

Doha tilted her head, feigning confusion.

“The incident in the greenhouse today… I mean.”

He had no choice but to bring it up himself.

‘Even Angelus doesn’t know yet, but you do?’

By speaking of it first, he had essentially admitted that Fluvia had grilled him about the matter.

Of course, it never crossed his mind that Doha had already figured that out.

“Hm… I just wanted to give my mother’s friends some flowers. I tried my best to follow what you taught me.”

“When did I ever…!”

“I dressed modestly, greeted them first since I’m of lower rank, and showed proper etiquette. Did I do something wrong?”

“…”

Viscount Liden’s clenched fists trembled violently.