The Villain's Terminally Ill Wife

Chapter 23

Several days had passed since I had organized the list of items I needed to reclaim from my father.

Richard had personally submitted the documents, combining those I had given him with the ones he had prepared, to the Supreme Court in the capital. Even though it could have been handled by servants, he insisted on doing it himself, claiming that it was an important matter. Despite the inconvenience, he showed no signs of it.

In the meantime, I spent a lot of time familiarizing myself with the names and faces of the servants. Given that I had trouble remembering faces, it took me over a week to learn the names and faces of the servants, and even then, I couldn’t claim to have mastered it completely.

Looking at the maid before me, whose name I still couldn’t recall, I realized I would likely struggle for a few more days.

“Um… so it’s Rivet?”

“No, ma’am! Rivet is this friend here. I’m Luen.”

“Oh, sorry. It’s hard for me to remember.”

“It’s alright. There are so many people working in the mansion.”

Luen smiled at me without showing any irritation. Seeing her smile made me feel even more apologetic.

“I won’t forget next time, Luen.”

“It’s an honor, ma’am. And you don’t have to push yourself too hard. We have plenty of time.”

Luen’s casual remark made me pause for a moment. Time… Considering that I hadn’t yet found the Rosier Flower, time didn’t feel so abundant.

A year is not a long time.

However, I didn’t want to burden others with my negative thoughts. There was no need to make things worse when people were trying to be supportive.

“Hmm, right.”

I gave an awkward smile, and Luen bowed her head and walked away toward her original destination.

I stood there for a while, watching Luen and Rivet’s departing figures, wondering if I had inadvertently upset her.

At that moment…

“Ma’am, Duke Tristan…!”

Martin, a servant, came rushing toward me, breathlessly shouting. It sounded like he was mentioning a rather unwelcome name.

I turned to see Martin running towards me. He reached me, catching his breath before he could properly speak.

“The Duke Tristan has arrived!”

“My father?”

“Yes!”

Since the documents had been submitted to the Supreme Court, it was only a matter of time before someone came to visit. It was expected that my father would visit.

“Where is he?”

“He’s at the main entrance.”

“First, show him inside. To the main reception room on the first floor. Richard is out, so I will greet him.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

As I watched Martin rush off, I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. I then adjusted my attire. Since this was the first time I would be seeing him after deciding to pursue legal action, I couldn’t help but feel nervous.

I wanted to meet my father in the best possible state, as he might find fault with even the smallest details of my appearance.

“Olivier, is my outfit and hair alright?”

“Yes, ma’am, it’s perfect.”

It would have been a lie if it wasn’t mixed with flattery, but hearing Olivier’s reassurance made me feel better.

“Alright, then let’s go meet Father.”

I walked toward the main reception room on the first floor after Martin had gone toward the front entrance.

I took my seat in the upper chair and asked Olivier to prepare some refreshments.

After waiting a bit, there was a knock on the door.

“Ma’am, Duke Tristan is here.”

“Let him in.”

I stood up after granting Martin permission and awaited my father’s entrance.

The door opened, and a familiar figure walked in.

The current Duke Tristan, my stepfather, Gray Tristan.

I forced a calm smile as I watched my father approach slowly.

“Welcome, Father. You must be tired from your visit. Please, have a seat here.”

I invited him to sit first before taking my own seat. Though it was not entirely appropriate to act this way toward someone of his status, I didn’t have the luxury to be overly accommodating given that we were already in the midst of a legal battle.

My father, with a displeased expression, glared at me before taking a seat himself.

Luen soon entered with refreshments. My father watched silently as Luen set the items on the table.

Was he trying to maintain some semblance of dignity? Given his usual demeanor, it was unlikely he would remain silent for long. It was a relief if he didn’t start shouting or making a fuss.

After arranging the refreshments, Luen bowed politely and left the room.

Soon, it was just my father and me in the reception room.

I took a sip from my tea cup, savoring the aroma quietly.

“What brings you here? I wasn’t able to prepare anything suitable for your visit since you came without notice. I’ve hastily prepared some refreshments, so please have some and speak slowly.”

The tea was ordinary black tea with madeleines.

My father glanced at the refreshments briefly before turning his attention to me.

His eyes narrowed, and he seemed ready to snap at me at any moment.

“Diarna, I see you and Count Theodore have been plotting useless things.”

My father’s initial words carried a tone of scorn.

“Useless things?”

I pointedly highlighted the part of his statement that I found troubling.

“Yes. What? You want to reclaim the title and inheritance? Do you really think that’s reasonable? You speak as if I took them from you—do you have any basis for such claims?”

“……”

My father’s tone was taunting and derogatory.

I remained silent, listening to his scathing remarks.

“Those things were always mine. You were only ten years old, so you couldn’t handle them and transferred them to me!”

I had handed over my title to my father?

That was absurd.

Although I was young at the time, I still retained all the memories from my previous life. My mother’s sudden death had been a huge shock, but I wasn’t foolish enough to transfer everything I held to my father just because I was young.

In fact, it was my father who used my age as an excuse to act as my legal representative and take over my title. The world trusted the actions of an adult more than those of a ten-year-old girl, so I had to watch helplessly as my father seized the title of Duke.

Of course, back then, I believed that my father would at least take another look at me, so I didn’t voice any complaints. But that wasn’t all.

My father also disciplined me with physical punishment, supposedly to correct my behavior.

But was it really because I was unruly?

No, having lived a previous life, I knew well how trivial that reason was. It was just an excuse for venting his anger, abuse, and violence. My father used violence as a means to subjugate me.

And I had remained silent out of fear of the punishment.

In that sense, my father succeeded in his intentions. I became quiet after enduring the beatings.

Still, I hoped that someday my father would look back at me again. Even if he ignored me now, I hoped that one day he might apologize and reach out to me.

But the result was this.

Selling me off while I was sick and dying.

“But now you come asking for the title and inheritance? Ridiculous! There is no longer any share for you. Diarna, you failed to protect any of it as you grew up.”

“Yes, I failed to protect it. A ten-year-old child needed a guardian.”

I decided I couldn’t just listen any longer and calmly spoke up.

This led to a tense silence in the reception room, which had been filled with my father’s angry voice.

“But can you truly say you fulfilled your role as my guardian?”

“Of course I did!”

“How?”

“Who do you think fed and sheltered you?”

“I believe it was the wealth my mother left behind that provided for me. Otherwise, wouldn’t you have ended up on the streets?”

“What?!”

Unable to contain his anger, my father stood up. He was holding the teacup so roughly that it seemed like he might pour the hot tea over me at any moment.

The tea was still warm, and if it were to be spilled on me, I would be helpless against severe burns.

I was honestly scared, but I didn’t want to back down.

This was the first time I had pushed my father this far.

As a girl, I had been terrified of his abuse, but now I said:

“Father, think carefully about how a fallen baron like you became Duke Tristan.”

As soon as I finished speaking, there was a clatter by the door.

Someone had entered the main reception room.

But it seemed my father, in his agitation, didn’t notice that detail.

“How dare you speak to me like that?”

My father muttered through gritted teeth, trembling with his clenched fists.

Had I gone too far?

Just as I was worrying, my father’s hand moved.

The hand that was holding the teacup.

Seeing his hand reaching toward me, I shut my eyes tightly and braced myself.

But even as time passed, no hot tea was poured over me.

“What are you doing, Duke Tristan?”

It was Richard who stopped my father’s hand.