Chapter 43
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44.
The physician held his swollen, crimson cheek and spoke through beads of cold sweat.
"My Lord, we have exhausted every method at our disposal! We have even attempted ancient remedies, yet I confess—this form of affliction is entirely unprecedented. All I can offer you now is patience...."
"Are you telling me she could remain like this for the rest of her life?"
"B-based on my current assessment... yes, that is possible."
"Blast! Blast! Blast!"
Zeppelin unleashed a torrent of curses before turning toward Rebecca with tear-glistened eyes.
Rebecca merely gazed at him with sorrow etched across her features.
"Zeppelin... it's all right. I shall recover soon...."
"Of course you will. I shall restore you to your former perfection!"
"Th-then I shall trust only in you... ah...."
Rebecca's consciousness slipped away entirely.
Kanna placed her hand upon Rebecca's forehead and retrieved the thermometer.
Upon reading the measurement, Kanna's alarm became evident.
"This is grave. Her fever has risen considerably since yesterday. Her breathing has also grown labored."
One of the attending physicians spoke cautiously to Zeppelin.
"My Lord, it appears the Lady requires absolute rest at present."
Zeppelin regarded him with a sharp glance, yet recognizing the wisdom in his words, he exhaled heavily and spoke.
"Very well. We shall continue this discussion in the Study. If you wish to preserve your lives, you had best procure a cure."
At his warning, the physicians exchanged meaningful glances.
If one could endure Zeppelin's temperamental nature, this was a most lucrative position.
The wages far exceeded those elsewhere, and there were no elderly dependents requiring constant care.
Yet now, their very lives hung in the balance.
How had matters come to this?
They swallowed hard and bowed their heads respectfully.
"W-we shall do our utmost!"
Zeppelin dismissed them with a dismissive click of his tongue and turned his body toward Rebecca.
Without crossing the threshold, he whispered tenderly.
"Rebecca, now that I have returned, everything shall be restored to its rightful place."
The unconscious Rebecca offered no response.
Zeppelin carefully closed the door and departed.
The moment the door shut, Rebecca's eyes snapped open.
"How was my performance, Kanna?"
"Magnificent, madam."
"Did you see him? Zeppelin, trembling like a frightened child, unable to approach my side. As though he feared something unclean might soil him."
"I am not surprised. He has always been such a man."
"Precisely. That is Zeppelin Devonshire—a man who concerns himself with his own comfort before the suffering of his wife."
Rebecca closed her eyes once more.
"All declarations of love are falsehoods. True love cannot exist. The moment one ceases to desire something from another, affection crumbles to dust—so why do we dignify such fragile things with so grand a word?"
'That is not true....'
Kanna believed in true love, but she didn't bother refuting Rebecca's opinion.
Rebecca looked utterly exhausted as she spoke those words.
Rebecca let out a groan as she spoke.
"Kanna... my body is so itchy I'm going mad. My head aches too."
Kanna hurried to fetch ice packs and applied them meticulously across Rebecca's body.
Rebecca murmured in a weakened voice.
"Ah. That's better. It's more agonizing than I anticipated."
Kanna asked with concern in her voice.
"Miss Rebecca, are you certain you'll recover? I've never witnessed such an illness in all my life."
"How long have you even lived? There are countless things in this world we don't know. I'll get better. I will."
When Kanna said nothing, Rebecca flicked the bridge of her nose with her finger.
"Don't make that face. It breaks my heart every time you look like that. You trust me, don't you, Kanna? Once a little more time passes, the fever will break. The pustules will remain, though."
"How could I not trust you..."
Rebecca smiled at Kanna, but soon her breathing became ragged and labored, and she succumbed to sleep, overwhelmed by fever.
* * *
Meanwhile, Zeppelin was carefully examining the reports submitted by the physicians in the Study.
Their claim that they had tried every method was no lie.
As Zeppelin turned through the reports page by page, he slammed his fist against the desk.
"How did things come to this! Rebecca! Ah, Rebecca!"
Zeppelin covered his face in despair.
"My lord, I have something to tell you."
Octavio, who had been quietly refilling Zeppelin's glass beside him all along, spoke.
"If it doesn't help with the current situation, I'd prefer you keep silent."
Zeppelin drank his wine irritably, gulping it down.
Octavio spoke carefully.
"It may be relevant."
"Speak."
"There are rumors that the illness the lady is suffering from may be a divine affliction."
"A divine affliction?"
"In fact, since you departed, rumors that Rebecca is a saint have spread widely."
"What am I hearing. Rebecca being revered as a saint isn't something new."
"This time is different. Based on what I've observed, it is my assessment that Miss Rebecca possesses divine power to foresee the future."
"Foresight? Octavio. Did you take some medicine while I was away? What nonsense is this."
"It is true. More than one or two of your employees have been helped by the lady."
"Even if that were the case, it doesn't make sense that I wouldn't know such a fact."
"That is... I've heard that for some reason, her divine power is being suppressed."
"Who on earth spread such an absurd rumor?"
Octavio took a deep breath before opening his mouth.
"Robert."
"Robert...?"
Zeppelin fell into deep thought.
Octavio watched as Zeppelin's anger gradually subsided, and a subtle smile crossed his face.
Grace had instructed him not to mention the rumors about Rebecca being a saint, but Octavio's thoughts diverged from hers.
Rebecca's terminal illness was already a fait accompli.
As the butler, what he could do now for his master was to create a distraction to divert attention from Rebecca.
'And if I could eliminate those thorns in my side during this opportunity, all the better.'
Octavio knew Zeppelin well.
Among everyone in the estate, he was the one who best catered to his master's temperament.
"Surely you know better than anyone, sir, that Robert is not the sort of man to spread baseless rumors. Why not summon him for questioning?"
Octavio lit an incense stick—a fragrance he had blended himself—and its subtle aroma gradually permeated the study.
Zeppelin inhaled the scent deeply, then exhaled slowly. The tension melted away, leaving him drowsy and relaxed.
Zeppelin spoke in a somewhat mollified tone.
"Yes, how could I have overlooked Robert? He was the one who witnessed Rebecca's every move."
"When one experiences something shocking, one's reason becomes temporarily paralyzed. But you are so exceptionally brilliant, sir, that you've already found the answer so quickly."
"Hmm... Yes, I am rather clever..."
Octavio gently kneaded Zeppelin's tense shoulders.
As the fragrance grew more potent, Zeppelin accepted his touch in a hazy, languid state.
Before long, Zeppelin, seated in his chair, drifted smoothly into sleep.
Octavio carefully carried him to his bedroom.
'Today has been resolved one way or another. Now I just need to find those who intercepted the letters...'
"Octavio. Has the Count retired for the night?"
Waiting for him as he emerged from the bedroom was Grace, her face cold and composed.
Octavio narrowed his already slender eyes even further as he spoke.
"I've handled everything myself, so you needn't concern yourself, Grace."
At the way Octavio used her name instead of her title as head maid, Grace's eyes flashed briefly upward.
She preferred to be called head maid.
It gave her the impression of being someone more important to the Count's household.
The title of "madam" made her appear older, and she had no desire to be seen as approachable or easy to manipulate by being addressed by her given name.
Thus, head maid was the most appropriate title.
Yet Octavio had consistently called her "Grace" from their first meeting until now.
The way he addressed her as "Grace"—neither with an honorific nor with warmth—grated on her nerves every time.
Today, faced with his unchanged demeanor, Grace's irritation rose, but she suppressed it.
There was something she needed to confirm right now.
Octavio, perhaps sensing her intent, smiled faintly and spoke.
"Are you waiting here because you're curious whether I told him about the saint rumors?"
"Did you really tell him?"
Grace uncrossed her arms and looked directly at Octavio.
"I don't see why that would be so surprising. The Count has every right to know everything that happens in his estate. But I'm curious—what was your reason for asking me to keep the rumors quiet?"
"Well, it was merely a sincere wish to ease the Count's worries even slightly. There was no other meaning to it."
"Then that's fortunate."
Octavio chuckled softly.
When he smiled like that, it meant he was probing for something.
Grace deftly redirected the conversation.
"This scent... You've lit those incense sticks again. The ones the previous Count forbade?"
"He has already passed into eternal rest. The current Count is Zeppelin. It is something the Count has permitted—what is the issue?"
"What do you mean 'issue'? Surely you're not speaking in your right mind?"
"The Count desired peace of mind and body. Once he has obtained what he wishes, there is no further need to discuss it."
Octavio merely smiled again.
Octavio Limen—no one knew his exact origins beyond the fact that he was a nobleman of modest means.
He had risen from servant to butler, earning the trust of Joachim Devonshire along the way.
He was also the man who had overseen Zeppelin's education alongside Grace since the boy was very young.
Zeppelin had followed Octavio more closely than his own father, and even as Count, he tended to rely upon him.
Even when Zeppelin lost his reason, a single word from Octavio would restore his composure.
Placing him at the head of the Hounds was proof of the trust he placed in him.
Octavio was the sort of man who cared only for results, disregarding the means entirely.
This made him fundamentally at odds with Grace, who scrutinized every minute detail.
Octavio regarded Grace—whose eyes were now filled with wariness—and smiled darkly as he spoke.
"Ah yes, I mentioned that Robert is at the center of the rumors, so you should investigate him."
"...!"
Grace's dark eyes wavered for a moment.
Octavio did not miss that instant, studying her expression carefully.
Grace quickly composed herself and spoke again with an expressionless face.
"What does that have to do with me?"
"Well, I merely thought you might be curious about news of someone who could have once become your son-in-law."
The Runaway Countess Returns
E-book Publication
January 12, 2022
Author
Ginbamhaneul
Publisher
Desert Fox
Published by
Woongjin ThinkBig Co., Ltd.
Submission Received
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