Chapter 27
At that moment, Wickley took a sip of tea and calmly spoke.
“So, what is the reason you wanted to meet me?”
Well, it’s to win your favor for Etricia and Lilien.
I answered inwardly and smiled.
Of course, to someone as experienced in psychological battles as Marchioness Wickley, I must have seemed like nothing more than a small fish.
But what I was attempting was not a psychological game—it was a fair trade. I vaguely remembered some details about this supporting character from the original novel. Taking a deep breath, I spoke.
“I wanted to offer you some advice about the illness you are suffering from.”
Flinch. The hand holding the teacup trembled. She raised an arched eyebrow and gave me a cold gaze.
“How rude. I heard you were getting a divorce, but I never heard rumors of you studying medicine.”
“I haven’t studied medicine, but people have wisdom about life.”
“What do you mean?”
“Your illness is known as an unknown lung disease, but in reality, isn’t it a skin condition?”
Gasp. Marchioness Wickley inhaled sharply, her eyelids fluttering as she blinked.
In the original story, Marchioness Wickley was depicted as a mere side character whose role was to showcase Etricia’s futile death in the course of an evil person’s rampage, devoid of karma.
She was treated for her illness later, but the mention was brief and fleeting. However, I remembered clearly that her illness was an inflammatory skin condition that caused redness and rashes.
Before arriving, I had my doubts, but her specific requests and the veil confirmed it.
Those strict requirements were likely just excuses to avoid being seen. She wouldn’t have wanted to risk exposing her skin condition.
The social gatherings of noblewomen took place indoors, and when they did go out, they used carriages or parasols, meaning she likely suffered from a severe lack of vitamin D.
Moreover, in her effort to hide her condition, she likely stayed in poorly ventilated, enclosed spaces, which not only weakened her health but also created an environment conducive to skin disease.
Lowering her gaze, she took a moment to steady her breath. A faint flush spread across her lower face, with red spots blooming in patches.
Now calmer, she gazed at me intently, as if assessing me. Her eyes held the charisma of someone at the pinnacle of high society.
“What must I do to keep the Countess silent?”
“Get treated.”
“…Treated?”
“Exactly. There’s no need to silence me. I have very few acquaintances, so I have no one to tell.”
“…”
“Let me continue. First, eat plenty of fruits and meat, and walk outside for at least thirty minutes a day. You shouldn’t be picky with food, but avoid overly heating foods. Oh, and make sure to consume plenty of grapes from the Grand Duke’s estate.”
In the future, it’s mentioned that eating those grapes helps alleviate your symptoms.
“And you must get plenty of sleep. Your skin condition may make it hard to rest, but use mint to cool down the heat—”
As I rapidly listed off advice, Marchioness Wickley, who had been listening with her hands neatly placed on her lap, raised a hand.
“You truly came here just to offer advice about my skin condition?”
Oh dear, does she think I came to mock her after hearing rumors?
“Yes, that’s my reason for coming.”
Marchioness Wickley frowned as if she couldn’t comprehend my intentions.
“Aren’t you worried about infection, Countess? You know I have a skin disease.”
“I’m sorry, but my in-laws are scarier to me.”
“…Your in-laws?”
“Yes, they’re so dirty and petty that I want to stay as far away as possible.”
“…”
Perhaps my unexpected answer surprised her, as she was momentarily stunned before letting out a delayed chuckle. Covering her mouth as she laughed, she brushed her hair back and tucked it behind her ear with a bittersweet expression.
“You’re an odd person. Despite doctors assuring them it wasn’t contagious, most people still avoided me.”
People who didn’t understand skin conditions likely found them repulsive. Because of that, the once-proud Marchioness Wickley had felt ashamed and hidden herself away.
Straightening her back, she traced the handle of her teacup. Even with her face partially concealed by the veil, she looked elegant and refined, like a lily.
“Countess Buell, I don’t easily trust people, especially those who lack determination.”
She was subtly rebuking the fact that I had secured this meeting through Edmund’s influence.
Even if that worked against me, there was no other way for me to meet Marchioness Wickley. I simply shrugged.
“Using Lilien is my principle.”
“Yes, so I’ll try to understand it. I find your brazen philosophy amusing.”
Replying gracefully, Marchioness Wickley gave a faint smile.
“So, what do you want? You didn’t come just to give me advice, did you?”
Seeing the sharp light in her eyes, I realized that being indirect was pointless.
Hesitating as if speaking something difficult, I finally opened my mouth.
“Actually, there is one member of your gathering who doesn’t quite fit its purpose.”
“Are you trying to use me to get revenge on your in-laws?”
Oh dear, she saw right through my diplomatic words.
Sweat dripped down my back, but I simply covered my mouth and laughed.
“What a frightening thing to say. I only mention it because I’m concerned that Baroness Dien’s presence might damage the reputation of your gathering.”
Marchioness Wickley smiled knowingly, her lips curving under her veil.
“I like that it’s not the usual boring request to join my gathering.”
“Thank you for trusting me.”
“I will grant your request if my condition improves.”
Such generosity. No wonder people speak so highly of her.
Marchioness Wickley took the initiative so that the petitioner wouldn’t have to beg. Then, excusing herself, she removed her stifling veil.
Despite the reddish rashes, her black eyes shone brightly with intelligence, making her strikingly beautiful.
I smiled warmly and cautiously spoke.
“Thank you, Marchioness Wickley. And one more request…”
After sharing tea and small talk, I left the villa only at noon.
The Marchioness of Wickley saw me off herself.
One of the maids even shed tears and thanked me, saying it was because of me that the Marchioness had come out to see the sunlight.
Looking displeased, the Marchioness glanced at the maid, then gently pressed her veil fluttering in the wind and gave me a faint smile.
“Come visit anytime. We can talk about politics—or complain about dreadful in-laws.”
I burst out laughing at the Marchioness’s joke.
The more I got to know her, the more different she seemed from the image I had imagined.
I had thought she’d be rigid and strict, someone who valued etiquette as much as she valued organizational order.
But she wasn’t arrogant or stiff at all.
“Thank you for being Lady Lilien’s chaperone. I’ll make sure to arrange more relaxed meetings.”
“That sounds nice. I’m looking forward to meeting Lady Lilien too.”
The Marchioness nodded. But maybe from walking outside longer than usual, she closed her eyes tightly and stifled a groan.
I quickly told her to go inside, and she gave me a parting nod before being helped back into the villa by her maid.
Watching her walk into the building after a very satisfying meeting, I smiled to myself in contentment.
But as I turned my head to leave, I saw someone unexpected.
“Count!”
Smiling brightly with surprise and happiness, I waved the envelope in my hand—only to stumble a little.
“Ugh.”
Thankfully, I didn’t fall, but I did twist my ankle slightly.
As I bent over and rubbed my aching ankle, a sigh came from above me.
“Is this what happens the moment I take my eyes off you?”
When I looked up, Edmund was frowning down at me, silhouetted against the backlight.
I pouted and straightened up.
“You’re being too harsh. Have I ever gotten hurt in front of you before?”
“You have.”
“When?”
Edmund avoided my gaze and rubbed his furrowed brow.
“…If I said you have, then you have.”
“When exactly—?”
‘Oh, when Devon barged in uninvited.’
There was a brief moment of silence between us.
“That wasn’t my fault. Anyway, I’m fine now, so don’t worry.”
Heh. Edmund took his hand off his face and let out a sarcastic chuckle.
“You’re full of yourself. Who says I’m worried?”
Liar.
He glanced at my ankle with that slightly concerned look while rubbing his eyebrows, like he couldn’t help but be bothered.
His habit of being overly protective of Lilien seemed to pop up elsewhere when she wasn’t around.
Even though I was getting closer to Edmund, this kind of overprotectiveness didn’t suit me—and honestly, it just made me feel awkward.
They say only people who’ve had the luxury know how to enjoy it.
Trying to cool my flushed face, I rubbed it with the back of my hand, then held out the envelope to change the subject.
“Here.”
Edmund took the envelope calmly, opened it, and blinked in surprise.
“This is…”
“I’m confident Lady Lilien will shine brightest at the ball.”
“She really agreed to it?”
“Of course.”
I lowered my head and whispered softly, winking at him.
“I also told her not to worry since she’s not interested in socializing or suitors. What we want is to make her name known. I did well, didn’t I?”
“…Well, just this once.”
Edmund reluctantly offered a compliment, then checked the documents again before folding them neatly and putting them inside his vest.
“Any special requests?”
“Please send one bunch of the duchy’s grapes to the Marchioness of Wickley every day.”
“That’s not difficult, but at that rate, the grapes will spoil and lose their flavor before she eats them.”
“She’ll eat them before that happens, so it’s fine.”
If it helps cure her skin condition, it’s worth anything.
