Chapter 18

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter Title: Chapter 18

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"You, do you feel more sympathy for that bitch because you're from the same lowly background? You think you'll get to live like her if you take her side?"

"Kyaaak!"

"Don't delude yourself! Ignorant trash like you have ruined my life. It's all that bitch Iona's fault that I'm in this mess!"

Ivonne screamed as she shoved the maid against the wall and knocked her down.

Even after smashing the furnishings and laying hands on the maid, Ivonne's mood showed no sign of improving. The person she really wanted to give a beating to was someone else entirely.

Cunning little wench. She took every beating without so much as a whimper until the marriage talk came up. And now she has the nerve to act like nothing happened?

In the Modroff household, Iona had originally been nothing more than a trash bin.

Whenever Nils was in a foul mood, he would vent his frustrations on Iona first thing.

Ivonne needed to spit a few curses just to feel better every time she laid eyes on Iona's face. Sometimes she even put real effort into tormenting her—having the maids serve spoiled food or ruin her clothes for going out.

But the most important thing was collecting any invitation letters addressed to Iona and burning them ahead of time.

There was no way she could attend the same parties while pretending to be sisters with that arrogant slut.

Thanks to that, Iona had been treated as a freak in high society, but Ivonne felt not a shred of guilt.

It was only natural. That girl was a filthy illegitimate child.

Iona was the one who had ruined their happiness, so as the culprit, she deserved to be even more miserable than they were.

That said, no matter how necessary the trash bin was, it was still unpleasant to have filth strutting around right in front of her eyes.

Ivonne sometimes wished Iona would break under all the abuse and just run away.

If she bullied her hard enough to make it unbearable, wouldn't she just wither away on her own? With thoughts like that, Ivonne would sometimes treat her even more harshly.

Yet that leech of a girl refused to leave the family—not after several years, not even after reaching adulthood.

On the contrary, as time went on, she grew into an even more indispensable presence in House Modroff. More so than Nils and Ivonne, the true legitimate heirs.

Why should I have to put up with this crap because of some fake?

Even today, Hayden had sided with that arrogant bastard child over Ivonne. All because a guest had overheard them arguing.

Ivonne had been a bit flustered upon learning that, but she quickly turned defiant.

She insisted that none of this would have happened without the illegitimate spawn, so it was all Iona's fault—no, it was their father's fault for trying to pair a girl like that with a duke.

The result was disastrous. Count Modroff flew into a rage and ordered her to stay locked in her room for the rest of the day.

Because of that, Ivonne hadn't even been able to show her face to the duke and was stuck cooped up on the third floor.

"If only she weren't here... if only she weren't here..."

Ivonne was grinding her teeth and muttering to herself when it happened.

Someone flung open the door without even knocking.

It was Nils.

At the sight of her welcome brother's face, Ivonne cried out in a choked voice.

"Oppa!"

Startled by her thunderous shout, Nils hurriedly pressed a finger to his lips.

"Shh, Dad might hear. He came back from somewhere after that mess with the duke... but he's in a foul mood."

His slurred speech made it hard to make out every word, but Ivonne nodded frantically all the same.

The thought that her brother had ended up talking like a three-year-old because of Iona made it impossible for her to hold back her rage.

"Did His Grace say anything about me? He shouldn't be misunderstanding things..."

Ivonne asked in an anxious tone.

The duke would surely understand her position if he knew the full story, but she couldn't very well explain the truth for the sake of the family's reputation. All she could do was feel wronged.

"He didn't say a word. Well, he's from a ducal house, after all—he probably doesn't give a damn about Iona."

Nils replied in a casual tone.

Still, he seemed just as irritated, his face twisted in a deep scowl.

Iona had shattered his teeth, after all, so Nils hadn't been able to show his face to the duke either. It was enough to frustrate anyone.

"But this can't go on. He's treating us like a joke. Even if we become his in-laws, it won't do us any good. Dad's the only one who doesn't get it."

Hayden still seemed to think he could sweet-talk Iona into usefulness, but Nils saw things differently.

The bulk of House Modroff's current influence stemmed from Iona's close ties to the Crown Prince.

If Iona went through with this marriage and joined another house, the Modroffs' position would be left high and dry.

"Ivonne, you have to become the duke's wife instead. Or else make this whole marriage go away entirely. We have to do one or the other if we're going to have any future."

"...That's easy for you to say. How are we supposed to go against an imperial decree on a whim?"

Ivonne's face fell at her brother's pie-in-the-sky scheme.

No matter how much power their house wielded, they couldn't pull off something like this without stepping out from under their father's shadow.

But Nils had never intended to act out in the open to begin with.

He leaned in and whispered.

"If the bride disappears."

Ivonne drew in a sharp breath. Nils gripped her shoulders, his eyes gleaming as he continued.

"Whenever the primary candidate for a marriage meets with an unfortunate accident, the next in line is almost always the bride's sister. If things go smoothly, we could kill two birds with one stone."

"K-Kill Iona? Even if... is that really okay?"

"Sure, there might be a little trouble, but it's nothing compared to what we'd gain. The real problem was riding on that illegitimate's coattails for a shot at glory in the first place. We can manage just fine in Modroff without that knighthood title."

His speech was still hard to follow, but one thing was crystal clear. Nils didn't just want to humiliate Iona—he wanted her gone for good.

Nils pulled the dazed Ivonne over to a nearby chair and sat her down.

Before launching into the details, he glanced around the room.

"All maids, out."

At his words, the maids slipped out of the room like an ebbing tide. Once they were in the hallway and the door clicked shut behind them, they exchanged uneasy glances.

Whatever they were discussing, Nils must have lowered his voice considerably—nothing more could be heard from inside.

After a long silence, a wordless exchange passed between the circle of clustered maids.

It was utterly silent, so those on the other side of the door had no idea what was going on.

The Imperial Knight Order ran on a strict schedule. There were no exceptions—not even for someone with a major life event like a wedding right around the corner.

Hellish three-shift rotations. I've got to quit soon.

I grumbled inwardly, but my eyes—accustomed to the dawn shift—were sharp as ever.

My body had already adapted to the grueling work environment.

Iona mechanically fastened the buttons on her familiar uniform.

At least I've got retirement right around the corner. Small mercies.

One more perk to add to the list of advantages in a proper married life.

I'd never even dreamed of quitting my job before my dying day, masquerading as a slave all the while. Now, though, I finally had the leisure to view my situation with a bit of objectivity.

She was being exploited. Down to her very passion for the work.

"Why aren't you sleeping more? It's too early."

Iona responded indifferently to the knock coming from the other side of the door.

But Marsha didn't enter the room. She simply fell silent.

That alone was enough to tell Iona that the person standing outside wasn't Marsha.

Rather than ask who it was, Iona flung open the door.

"Ah, miss...!"

A maid stood there with a thin scratch marring her cheek. If Iona remembered correctly, she was one of the girls who worked under Ivonne.

Iona asked flatly.

"What is it?"

The maid trembled as she glanced warily around.

It seemed she had something to say that no one else could overhear.

Iona silently ushered her inside. If she'd been a spy or an assassin, she wouldn't have bothered knocking in the first place.

The maid took a small breath before speaking.