About Becoming My Ex-Husband's Mistress - Chapter 64
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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 64. I Cannot Miss This Opportunity
“Even if she’s ugly, her body’s not entirely useless, is it?”
A few tavern patrons, drunk on wine, dragged Jeanne into a cramped back room, covered her face with cloth, and satisfied their desires while hurling abuse at her.
When it was over, they tossed her a pittance.
Though she had steeled herself, enduring it was truly repugnant and degrading.
But she bore it silently.
As the tavern owner had said, it was better to receive coin than to end up like the previous staff—trampled and discarded.
This way, her ailing mother could at least have warm soup and medicine. The body needed sustenance to survive.
The ordeal hollowed her cheeks further, yet Jeanne persevered in her work with quiet determination.
One day, as Jeanne cleaned the tavern after arriving early, Madame Laber appeared before her, a long cigarette holder in one hand.
“I heard about the ugly prostitute, and seeing you in person—you truly are hideous, aren’t you? So utterly unremarkable. The Red Light District wouldn’t even use you.”
Madame Laber clicked her tongue and lit her cigarette. After observing Jeanne for a long while, she spoke again.
“Born from rape, not knowing who your father is, working to support your sickly mother? Your fate is truly wretched beyond measure.”
At her blunt words, Jeanne’s spirit wilted and her head bowed.
She had heard rumors of Madame Laber at the tavern—the woman was notorious even in the slums and back alleys.
It was said that many men had been beaten to death by the thugs she employed.
To Jeanne’s eyes, Madame Laber appeared demonic. Fear gripped her that a wrong answer might seal her own fate similarly.
Yet Madame Laber spoke in a languid, commanding tone.
“I’m looking for an ugly model for a day’s work tomorrow. I’ll give you compensation far beyond your station—come to the Salon when the sun rises. You need only sit. Whether this becomes the fortune of your lifetime, even I cannot say.”
The next day, for modeling, Jeanne received two gold coins.
With that sum, she and her mother could live well for three months—truly compensation beyond her station, as Madame Laber had said.
But that was not all.
That day, Jeanne beheld herself reborn through Priscilla’s touch. The world, once miserable and bleak, transformed, and hope appeared before her eyes.
Jeanne became certain that a god had appeared in her life.
“I cannot miss this opportunity.”
Returning home and thinking through the night, Jeanne rushed to the Raber Salon at first light and lingered outside its doors.
Late that afternoon, when Priscilla emerged from the Salon, Jeanne hurried toward her and abruptly asked to be taught makeup techniques.
Startled by her sudden request, Priscilla’s eyes widened, but sensing the desperation, she agreed to hear her out first.
Jeanne told Priscilla her circumstances.
She wanted to imitate, even partially, the technique that had transformed her. She believed that with such skills, she could find work somewhere other than a tavern in the slums.
“I don’t want to live and die like this. I want to make my life better.”
After hearing her story, Priscilla immediately agreed to teach her makeup and skincare techniques.
“I won’t charge you. But it’s not free either. When the time comes—well, within two months at the latest?—I’ll obtain a letter of recommendation for you, and at that time, could you cooperate with me?”
She also demanded that Jeanne quit the tavern immediately, offering to support her living expenses until then.
Priscilla also told Jeanne to learn to read and write.
Reading and writing were genuinely difficult. Yet Jeanne eagerly agreed, her eyes burning with determination.
To her, Priscilla’s words—like those of a god—were worth heeding no matter what.
And not long after, when Jeanne had learned to apply makeup to her own face reasonably well, Priscilla obtained a letter of recommendation from a noblewoman for her.
It was for work as a cleaning maid in the Bilsty Barony.
“I hear people quit that position quickly. If it becomes too difficult, you’re welcome to leave. Then I’ll seek a recommendation from another family. And there’s something I need to ask of you.”
Priscilla’s request was simpler than I expected.
“There will be things you overhear while working. I’d like you to relay those details to me discreetly.”
And so Jeanne became a cleaning maid at the Bilsty Barony.
The Reception Room, staircase, windows, garden—every location fell under Jeanne’s domain.
Except the Bedroom and the small Storage Shed behind the building.
“Don’t you dare quit. I’m worked to death every time we need to hire someone.”
Another maid offered Jeanne advice on how to last in the position.
As a newcomer, avoid the masters as much as possible, and especially never enter the Storage Shed.
Jeanne caught on immediately.
The Bedroom and Storage Shed were important places.
The Bedroom was honestly impossible to access. But the Storage Shed—that would be easy at night. So when everyone slept, Jeanne grabbed a blanket and crept toward the Storage Shed.
For the first few days, she discovered nothing. The Storage Shed door remained firmly locked.
But today was different.
The wooden floor of the Storage Shed creaked rhythmically. She could hear moans from inside—unmistakable sounds of what was happening.
‘Oh?’
Jeanne was genuinely delighted.
She finally had something to report to Priscilla.
* * *
The next day, Jeanne took leave under the pretense of menstruation and sought out Priscilla.
When Margaret heard Jeanne had come looking for Priscilla, she guided her to Madame Laber’s Study.
“Welcome, Jeanne.”
Upon entering the Study, Priscilla sat across from Madame Laber with teacups between them.
Startled by the unexpected encounter, Jeanne bowed awkwardly, bending her waist at a ninety-degree angle, and Madame Laber laughed, waving the cigarette holder in her hand.
“It’s been a while. Your appearance has improved from your beggar days… Thank goodness you’re not completely stupid.”
Though her words were harsh, Jeanne, accustomed to such rudeness, didn’t mind. She only felt relief that Madame Laber seemed to be in good spirits.
Madame Laber rose from her seat first.
“Come see the New House after we’re done talking. I’ll be waiting there first. You know where it is, don’t you?”
“Yes, I’ve heard about it.”
Priscilla nodded.
As Madame Laber stepped outside, she placed a hand on Jeanne’s shoulder.
“I can see the promise in your eyes—the effort I invested in bringing you here shows. Listen well. If you upset our girl, you know what happens, don’t you?”
Though Jeanne didn’t know what had occurred, she could quickly discern that Madame Laber cared deeply for Priscilla.
Jeanne nodded quickly, and Madame Laber, her red lips curling upward, spoke in her characteristic manner.
“The tavern owner told me which bastards are insufferable.”
“…Pardon?”
Madame Laber cackled.
“If someone wants to do that, they should bring money and come to the Red Light District I operate. That’s how it’s supposed to work, isn’t it?”
Jeanne couldn’t find words to respond.
As she hesitated, Madame Laber continued.
“I was so annoyed with them that I rounded them all up and sold them to foreign slave markets. Those infuriating bastards will spend their lives crawling through mines with whips on their backs. How’s that? Grateful?”
Jeanne’s eyes widened in shock.
She stood dazed, wondering if what she’d just heard was even realistically possible, when Madame Laber’s eyes narrowed.
“If you’re grateful, treat me well. Betray me, and death is all that awaits you.”
Jeanne flinched and quickly nodded her head.
“N-no betrayal! Absolutely not!”
“Good. Follow my orders and I’ll reward you appropriately. Stop standing there looking awkward and sit on the sofa.”
Madame Laber gave Priscilla a playful wink.
“So, my dear, is there anything else you’d like?”
It was a completely different demeanor from how she’d treated Jeanne.
“Thank you so much, Madame Laber. Your help means everything to me.”
“Oh my, it’s nothing. For my angel, that’s easy enough. Well then, I’ll be off to the Royal Palace.”
“Have a safe trip.”
Madame Laber left the Study with Priscilla’s farewell.
Priscilla invited Jeanne to sit.
Once they were seated across from each other on the sofa, Margaret cleared the tea table.
As Margaret left with the empty teacup, Priscilla spoke to her.
“Could you bring some cake as well?”
Shortly after, Margaret returned with a tea set and a slice of cake on a dessert tray.
Before Priscilla sat only tea, while before Jeanne sat a cup of tea and cake.
The moment Jeanne caught the sweet aroma, her throat tightened as she swallowed.
‘Could it be…?’
The atmosphere suggested the cake was for her, and Jeanne’s heart raced. She had never eaten cake before in her life.
Once Margaret stepped away, Priscilla offered the cake to Jeanne.
“Um, am I really allowed to eat this? Shouldn’t you be the one eating it?”
“I’m fine. Please, enjoy it.”
Jeanne doubted her ears even as she carefully placed a piece of cake into her mouth.
In that moment, Jeanne’s understanding of sweetness transformed. It was as if celestial bells rang in her ears.
Tears of emotion welled up in her eyes.
“My goodness…”
At her reaction, Priscilla smiled wryly.
“You’re quite expressive.”
“I-I’ve never tasted it before in my whole life. It’s so delicious.”
“I’m glad you like it. I’ll have them bring another slice.”
At Priscilla’s call, Margaret soon returned with another slice of cake and set it down before leaving.
Two slices!
Jeanne sold her soul to Priscilla without even being asked, though only in her own heart.
In silence, alone.
Of course, she was grateful to Madame Laber too.
But if one were asked which to follow when both god and devil stand on the same side, wouldn’t the answer be clear?
‘I’ll follow you for the rest of my life! Treating you well seemed like the right thing to do for Madame Laber too!’
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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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