I’m Done With Unrequited Love - Chapter 33

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Chapter 33
The silent subject of that sentence was not us, but Count Flora.
I caught on quickly.
Rene being an illegitimate child worked in our favor.
“An ordinary nobleman would neither hide such a child away nor drag out a public dispute over one who had simply left the household. The Count’s conduct doesn’t add up.”
It made sense, though.
In this world, an illegitimate child carried no favorable reputation.
Therefore, it was standard nobility practice to bury the very existence of such offspring.
‘By rights, Count Flora should have done the same.’
In the original story, Ernan had silenced Count Flora’s mouth—but logically, it should have been the Count himself scrambling to keep the secret.
‘Even if the father-daughter relationship were exposed, he could simply deny it.’
That’s how badly he’d want to keep it hidden.
I couldn’t fathom why Count Flora and his wife had chosen to file suit despite that risk.
But I could guess their true motives were anything but wholesome.
‘First, we need to block them.’
Diego, who had been tapping his pen against the paper, spoke up.
“Let’s set aside the illegitimate status for now. The fact that Rene is born out of wedlock and is an illegitimate child works in our favor regardless—doubly so with Lord Cleor as her legal guardian. But more to the point… did you say Rene was raised in the Flora household all this time?”
“That’s right. ‘Rene was raised in the Flora household.’ And the concurrent circumstance in that sentence would be: ‘while suffering abuse.'”
“If we can prove that, it becomes a strong card in our hand.”
Though this era didn’t guarantee children’s rights, Diego explained that child abuse counted as serious grounds for liability in court.
‘Something about social order, he’d said.’
I hadn’t quite grasped the full explanation.
‘I’ll ask him about it again later.’
“But do we have evidence? Of Rene suffering abuse in the Flora household, I mean.”
Diego said this while looking at me.
And I…
“Well.”
“Yes?”
“There… isn’t any.”
…
What washed over me was regret.
When Rene first arrived at the Jonas Estate, she was a wreck. The severity of her wounds and bruises rivaled what I’d seen on Kiara when we first met.
‘I should have taken photographs.’
Portable cameras were everywhere in this world.
‘How could I have missed that.’
There you have it. I’m no genius, apparently.
‘No, wait.’
Who could have predicted Count Flora and his wife would sue out of nowhere?
The original story never played out this way.
But the situation had become what it was, and I needed to find another avenue somehow.
“If there’s no evidence, a witness would serve just as well.”
“…A witness.”
“Yes. The household servants will almost certainly testify that Rene was never abused in the Flora household—whether coerced by the Count or paid off. Either way.
…
“So we need a witness on our side too. Do you know of anyone who could serve that role?”
…
A witness.
Someone who could testify to the truth of Rene’s suffering.
‘Someone who would stand for Rene.’
An image flashed suddenly into my mind.
My head snapped up.
“Yes. There is.”
“I’m dying to know who.”
Ignoring Ernan’s deliberately flat tone beside me, I sifted through my memory.
It was, well.
“I… I understand. Sister went through it too, so…”
‘Rene’s older sister.’
“Count Flora’s biological daughter.”
* * *
“I… I understand. Sister went through it too, so…”
Let me trace back the context of how those words came from Rene’s lips.
The reason Rene answered that way was because I had just said something to her.

Two inferences were possible here.
One: Flora, Rene’s older sister and the Earl’s daughter, had learned of Rene’s existence later and felt wounded by it.
Two: the two of them were close enough to confide in each other about such things.
Of course, both inferences could simply be my own wishful thinking and delusion.
Even if they were true, there was no guarantee Flora would help Rene.
But I needed to verify.
I made my declaration to Diego while Ernan permitted it.
“I will bring her. A witness.”
The Earl’s daughter, Flora.
With that, the conversation wrapped up, and Ernan and I stepped outside the office.
It was now two in the afternoon, well past noon.
The sun’s light lay thickest upon the world at this hour.
…….
I stood in the dark shadow beneath the office building, watching Ernan’s retreating figure as he approached a carriage some distance ahead of me.
And I followed him before he could notice, in good time.
I did not refuse Ernan’s offer to take me to the mansion. Moving together was the natural course of action.
“Ernan.”
Shortly after the carriage began moving, I spoke to Ernan, who sat across from me.
As I did, I drew a medicine bottle packed full of pills from my breast and held it out to him.
“Take this.”
“What is it?”
“Can’t you tell by looking? It’s medicine.”
Ernan reached out and took the medicine bottle I offered, speaking as he did.
“Right. It could very well be poison.”
“You suspect it and yet you take it anyway.”
“A gentleman’s principle: never refuse a lady’s kindness.”
Such conviction—quite the gallant.
“So then, what is this medicine for?”
Clink.
As Ernan tilted the medicine bottle in his hand, the pills inside clinked softly against one another.
In his large hands, the bottle looked terribly small.
I answered casually and let my back sink into the seat.
“You can’t be exposed to sunlight.”
‘Was it the Morphirin Disease?’
Not exactly the same condition, but Ernan possessed a similar constitution. Prolonged exposure to sunlight left his skin inflamed and tender.