Chapter 123
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124.
"Has the Emperor not issued a decree against extravagance? If one must prepare different decorations each season, it naturally requires considerable expense. What is the problem with paying a modest sum to have a room decorated according to one's taste? You mentioned propriety, did you not? There are plenty of commoners who have received sufficient education. Madam, the world is changing. It seems Marchioness Petunia sometimes lives in the past rather than the present."
'Is she mad?'
Petunia's eyes narrowed to slits as she glared at Alicia.
Dealing with Rebecca alone was already overwhelming, yet Alicia was now tearing into her as well.
The tea party was drifting in directions Petunia had never anticipated.
"By the way, the Garden is truly beautiful. Petunia. I don't recall seeing that golden angel statue in the pond before—is it a recent acquisition? How lavish."
Deborah deftly redirected the conversation.
On the surface, it appeared she was mediating between Alicia and Petunia, but her words carried a sharp sting.
Petunia's Garden was renowned for its opulence. She grew bored easily, and the garden's theme changed frequently.
It was a pointed remark aimed at Petunia, who continued as usual despite the Emperor's edict warning against extravagance.
Petunia took a moment to examine the attire of the ladies around her.
Now that she looked, they all seemed to dress more modestly than before. Even Alicia wore restrained jewelry today.
Though the Emperor had issued his decree against extravagance, the Marquis of Lancaster had assured Petunia she would face no consequences for defying it, and had actually given her more money than usual.
Only now did she realize that everyone except herself was dutifully observing the Emperor's edict.
To think she had made such a blunder while trying to keep pace with Rebecca!
Petunia's face flushed crimson. She glared at Deborah, who was smoothly engaging Rebecca in conversation.
'She bears a grudge because of my son, it seems... Deborah. I won't let this slide.'
Petunia mentally etched the image of the ladies, led by Deborah, who were beginning to align themselves with Rebecca, as if she could devour them whole.
As several ladies voiced agreement with Alicia's position, she lifted her chin with barely concealed satisfaction.
During her time as the Countess, Alicia had not merely idled away her days.
She was weary of being called a commoner-born mistress.
Thus, Alicia had gritted her teeth and devoted herself to studying refinement.
And the moment Petunia spoke of a commoner's lack of propriety, Alicia understood.
That woman had never intended to include her in their circle.
Rather than placing one's foot on a tree one could never climb, it was better to plant one's own tree.
'Propriety...'
Rebecca paid no mind to the subtle power struggle unfolding in the midst of this lavish Garden.
She had just realized something from Petunia's remarks.
If the Lavonne Salon had one flaw, it was that the timing was premature.
In my previous life, ladies often ventured into commerce, and rental salons were quite popular.
But this era was not yet ready for the concept of rental salons to take root.
Therefore, the Lavonne Salon needed something that transcended all such obstacles—propriety itself.
And that could not be resolved by the status of the House of Johannes alone.
As Rebecca reflected carefully on Petunia's words, she recalled the person who could provide that propriety.
'How did I not think of this sooner?'
Now I saw it clearly—Petunia was nothing but rotten rope. I suddenly felt the time I was wasting here was a shame.
I pulled my chair back, feigning an urgent matter that had just come to mind, and rose from my seat.
In that instant, Petunia twisted her lips into a crooked smile and spoke.
She turned her head toward Alicia, dismissing Deborah with calculated indifference.
"Indeed, Alicia's perspective is quite peculiar—it seems your origins differ from ours."
"What do you mean by that?"
"Nobility, you see, is determined by bloodline. It is not something one simply acquires through wealth and a name. Blood cannot deceive. Just look at beasts—if the mother's lineage is inferior, the offspring inevitably bears some flaw."
"Petunia!"
Alicia's voice erupted in a sharp cry.
Petunia scrunched her face and made a show of covering her ears.
"How unbecoming to shriek like that. I find loud noises absolutely unbearable. The Countess of Devonshire, a woman of such refinement, should not conduct herself this way."
Alicia fell silent, her lips moving soundlessly.
'There it is again. That vile habit of venting on innocent bystanders.'
I narrowed my eyes.
Since childhood, Petunia had always lashed out at whoever stood beside her when things didn't go her way.
And she always chose the weak.
'Go on, strike back, Alicia. If you crumble here, it makes a mockery of my acknowledging you as a worthy rival.'
I had no intention of stepping in to help her, but watching Alicia's growth was utterly fascinating.
The girl who once knew only how to smile was becoming a woman who could defend what was hers.
The sharper Alicia became, the more I savored it.
She would come to understand what kind of man Zeppelin truly was, what kind of hell the position she stood upon really represented.
If that came to pass, where Alicia's blade would ultimately turn was something only time would tell.
"Alicia?"
I had been waiting slowly for Alicia's counterattack when I suddenly shot to my feet.
Alicia was gasping for breath, cold sweat streaming down her face.
"My... my belly..."
She clutched her abdomen and then collapsed beneath her chair.
"Alicia!"
"Good heavens! Come to your senses!"
While the ladies floundered in panic, I rushed to Alicia without hesitation.
Alicia was gasping, on the verge of losing her breath entirely.
"It's amniotic fluid! Her water has broken!"
Deborah cried out upon seeing the wetness on Alicia's skirts.
I examined Alicia's condition and immediately tore open her dress.
"Rebecca! What are you—!"
"Scissors! Bring scissors! No, there's no time for that."
I seized the knife from the table and ripped away the corset's laces.
As the corset loosened, Alicia, whose eyes had been rolling back, began breathing normally again.
Yet consciousness had not fully returned.
"You there! Tell my coachman to bring the carriage around! And fetch a gown."
Rebecca barked an order at the Maid, who had been passively observing the chaos unfold.
Startled by her cry, the Maid nodded frantically and hurried about her tasks.
Rebecca began rousing the unconscious Alicia, massaging her limbs and striking her cheeks in sharp, deliberate taps.
"Alicia! Alicia, come to your senses. For the sake of your child, you cannot lose consciousness here."
"I... I didn't do anything...."
Petunia blinked rapidly, consumed by panic.
The situation was spiraling beyond her control.
If something were to happen to the Earl of Devonshire's bloodline, she might very well bear the blame for it all.
Deborah approached Petunia, who stood gnawing at her lips in helpless distress.
"Your words were far too harsh, Marchioness Petunia. Perhaps you should have cultivated a gentler heart from the beginning. It seems the party is over, in more ways than one."
The phrase "in more ways than one" cut like a blade.
Deborah offered a contemptuous smile before turning away.
She then rushed toward Rebecca and helped her dress Alicia in her gown.
A burly servant soon lifted Alicia into his arms and dashed toward Rebecca's carriage.
Fortunately, she had arrived by carriage—a stroke of providence.
"To the House of Devon!"
The coachman hesitated at first, questioning the destination.
"Drive, now!"
But at Rebecca's near-frantic command, he hastily urged the horses forward.
As the carriage lurched into motion, Rebecca grasped Alicia's hand.
Alicia's eyes fluttered open as consciousness gradually returned.
"R-Rebecca...?"
Rebecca gazed down at her with the same tender concern she had shown on the day they first met.
Though that distant memory seemed like a lifetime ago, Alicia found herself longing for those days, and tears spilled from her eyes.
Rebecca wiped away Alicia's tears and soothed her.
"Alicia. Breathe deeply. Think of nothing else right now—only your child and yourself."
I momentarily set aside the thirst for vengeance that had consumed me until moments before.
I simply prayed that an innocent child would come safely into this world.
"You can do this. It will be frightening, but you can manage it. This is nothing. So Alicia, be strong. Yes?"
"Why... why are you doing this for me...?"
Alicia could not finish her words. A wave of intense contractions overwhelmed her.
In the throes of agony unlike anything I had ever endured, it was neither Zeppelin nor the title of Countess that anchored me to this world.
It was Rebecca.
* * *
"Fetch hot water and clean towels at once, and bring the midwife here!"
Rebecca thrust her hand through the window and seized the gatekeeper by the collar, shaking him violently.
"Your Grace! You'll hurt yourself!"
The coachman cried out in alarm, watching Rebecca lean halfway out the window as she threatened the gatekeeper.
Whether the coachman fainted or not, Rebecca slapped the dazed gatekeeper across the face.
"Have you no brain? Open the door this instant and fetch Grace! Your mistress is giving birth right now!"
"Yes, understood!"
The servants, who seemed devoid of all emotion, widened their eyes in shock at the sight of the divorced former Countess and the collapsed current Countess.
The gatekeeper hastily adjusted his helmet and quickly opened the door.
"Ahhh!"
As the servant lifted Alicia, another contraction seized her.
Alicia screamed.
Grace, who had rushed outside upon hearing the news, looked between Rebecca and Alicia in turn.
"What... what is happening?"
"Her water has broken. Move her to the Room immediately!"
"Ah! Understood. You, send word to the midwife at once. And you, fetch the Earl. The rest of you know what preparations are needed, yes?"
Grace, having grasped the situation in an instant, began to organize everything with remarkable efficiency.
Once Rebecca confirmed that Alicia was settled on the bed, her legs gave way and she collapsed to the floor.
"Rebecca!"
Grace hurried to support her, but Rebecca waved her hand away with an exhausted expression.
"Has... has the midwife arrived yet?"
"She is on her way and should be here within minutes. But what on earth happened?"
"As you can see, her water broke during tea, and I brought her here."
Rebecca gripped her trembling legs and pulled herself upright.
"The child must be saved."
"Ah..."
How could one possess such noble character?
Grace forgot entirely about Rebecca's kidnapping and threats, gazing at her with admiration.
As her senses gradually returned, Rebecca felt somewhat embarrassed.
Unfamiliar yet impossible to treat casually, these people surrounded her on all sides.
The runaway Countess had returned.
E-book publication.
January 12, 2022
Author.
Long Night Sky
Publisher.
Desert Fox
Published by.
Woongjin ThinkBig Co., Ltd.
Submissions.
naver.me/54VzzLSn
Blog.
blog.naver.com/wj_fennecfox
Twitter.
@wjt_fennecfox
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Brought to you by Valir Scans! To support our team and enjoy the latest releases, please read directly on our official site: valirscans.org
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