It's Overwhelmingly Convenient That the Female Lead Has Darkened - Chapter 62

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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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A blackened heroine is overwhelmingly comfortable.
#62
This morning.
Daisy woke from a dream in which she’d been buried deep in a pale green silk comforter, carefully extracting gold flakes from a monster with gilt-edged legs.
“Ow! My eyes!”
“Oh, I’m terribly sorry, Miss!”
—had robbed her of her sight.
It felt as though a 5,000-lumen flashlight had blazed to life directly in front of her eyes.
She flailed her hand, tears streaming down her face without her meaning to shed them.
Whatever it was, the gesture meant get it away.
“I—I’ve put it away!”
The young maid spoke urgently.
Daisy opened her eyes cautiously.
Her vision, which had been pure white, began to flicker and gradually recover its color.
The first thing she saw was brilliant sunlight streaming in through five enormous windows.
A fifty-square-meter studio facing south.
Even this felt extravagant, yet the gilt furniture that had glinted in her dreams remained exactly as it was.
No—it seemed like a few more pieces had been added.
A heavy chandelier hung from the ceiling, its crystals catching the sunlight and casting beautiful rainbow refractions across the floor.
But these weren’t enough to blind her eyes.
Just as Daisy thought this, she turned her head and nearly lost consciousness.
Dozens of jeweled ornaments were laid out neatly on cloth of navy blue velvet.
The thought that they might be false never crossed her mind.
That luminous radiance and the delicate cutting could not possibly be counterfeit.
Daisy’s eyes opened wide as she stared at what was undoubtedly the culprit behind her momentary blindness—a necklace set with a fist-sized pink diamond.
“You there.”
“Please call me Dalia, Miss.”
“Yes, then, Dalia.”
“Yes, Miss.”
“Tell them I’m not buying.”
Had this peddler lost their mind?
Where did they think they were selling, exactly?
Daisy didn’t have the money to buy such jewels.
And the Count certainly wouldn’t buy them for her.
So the wisest course was to refuse and let them leave before the Count caught sight of them making a nuisance of themselves.
“I don’t know which peddler this came from, but to lack such basic customer awareness is truly poor form.”
Just across the border in the neighboring territory, there was Lydia Penmarche, who squandered money as though it were water—surely they’d have better luck there.
Daisy was about to look away from the jewels when Dalia spoke.
The maid’s expression was puzzled.
“It’s not like that, Miss. These are all yours.”
“All mine? Then just send them back… what?”
Daisy’s head whipped around with a sharp click.
“Whose… did you say?”
“Yours, Miss. The Count prepared them as gifts for you.”
“…….”
The Count had given her gifts?
No. That couldn’t be right.
That Sable-heart Count would never give gifts to Daisy.
If the Count had harbored even a shred of such compassion,
then Daisy would never have…
at least, she wouldn’t have become so utterly wretched.
“Miss?”
At the maid’s call, Daisy snapped back to herself.
She’d almost slipped too far into that darkness.
“I need to stay sharp.”
On reflection, it wasn’t complicated at all.
If—as she’d suspected before losing consciousness—the Count simply hadn’t known how Daisy was living, then it made sense.
This, too, was nothing more than a whim of the Count, unable to tolerate his daughter being looked down upon by the servants.
A kind of performance to preserve his own dignity.
If so, then these things were Daisy’s—but they were not truly hers.
Everything in this room was the same way.
The Count and her brothers—they all wanted Daisy to simply fade away, breathing quietly in this carefully constructed place before disappearing.
“Dalia.”
“Yes, Miss.”
“Take good care of that. Don’t let it get scratched.”
“Yes!”
The young maid, though bewildered, nodded obediently.
The one silver lining was that instead of blaming Daisy for the servants’ incompetence, the Count had at least made this gesture for appearances’ sake.
‘At least it means he won’t hold it against me after this.’
Hope began to bubble up—perhaps the remaining five days would pass without incident.
Wait, now that I think about it…
“Dalia, where’s the maid who brought me that bath water?”
“I heard she was brought to trial, Miss.”
“Trial?”
Over bringing some cold bathwater? That seemed a bit much…
“Yes, they said she stole some of the Countess’s belongings.”
Let her rot in prison for a long time, then.
People like that never did just one thing.
“And you?”
Understanding the question—how she came to be here—Dalia’s cheeks flushed slightly.
“I was a trainee maid running errands in the kitchen, so I didn’t know much about it…”
Ah.
So that’s why she’d never heard the name before.
Because the story had diverged from the original, Dalia had undergone a meteoric rise from trainee maid to personal attendant.
It should have been a happy thing, but Dalia seemed troubled by it.
“I-I’m currently attending to you because we’re short-staffed, but an experienced maid will be coming soon to take over your care, so please don’t worry!”
“I’m fine with how it is.”
“Yes… yes?!”
“You’re enough. Don’t bring in another maid.”
A veteran maid would only be a nuisance anyway.
With Daisy unlikely to visit the Count’s Household much anymore, a trainee maid was perfectly adequate.
Daisy replied offhandedly and sprang out of bed.
After two days of sweating profusely, her body felt light.
“Dalia!”
“Y-yes!”
Dalia, whose face looked somehow on the verge of tears, started and answered eagerly.
Daisy spoke cheerfully, unaware as she stretched.
“Let’s have breakfast!”
“Oh!”
As if remembering something she’d forgotten, Dalia suddenly lifted her head and spoke.
“The Count said that when you wake up, you should come down to the Dining Room! He wants to have breakfast together. He said he has quite a lot to discuss with you…”
……
“……Miss?”
This was bad.
* * *
And so Daisy found herself in deep contemplation outside the Dining Room.
Things to discuss… quite a lot of things to discuss…
Crash!
That was when it happened.
The Dining Room door swung wide open, and a lanky but handsome boy suddenly thrust his face through.
He looked Daisy up and down.
“You’re fine.”
“Unfortunately.”
Daisy snapped back instinctively, then regretted it.
‘Ah, a quiet life…’
But the boy, whom she’d expected to throw a fit at those words, merely gaped like a fish, looking flustered.
“N-no, I didn’t mean it like that…”
“Chester, come in.”
A quiet voice came from behind Chester.
It was Kaylon’s.
Following Chester as he grumbled his way inside, I caught sight of the Count and Kaylon seated in the dining room.
The two handsome men wore expressions that seemed rather complicated.
What could they possibly be about to say, wearing looks like that?
Daisy tried to suppress her unease as she glanced around the room.
A seat had been prepared next to Chester.
Now that I thought about it, there’d been a seat in this exact spot the last time too.
Though the details were fuzzy since I’d been focused on rushing off to tell the Count about the cold bath.
‘What was that about? Did we have a visitor then?’
Daisy took a careful seat, reading the room as best she could.
“Your health—”
The Count inquired.
“Thanks to your care, I’ve recovered completely. I apologize for the trouble.”
“… I wasn’t looking for an apology.”
The Count spoke with an odd, rigid formality.
But Daisy paid it no mind.
Soon enough, once he saw her grades, he’d be wanting all the apologies he could get.
“But what did you need to see me about?”
Daisy decided to play innocent for now.
“You said I had to eat every meal in my room—”
Her sentence never finished.
The dining room fell eerily silent.
“……”
“……”
It was the Count who broke the incomprehensible silence.
“I have a question regarding that.”
Daisy looked toward the Count, bewildered.
“Who told you that?”
“Well… that is…”
In that moment, Daisy recalled that the Count didn’t know she was living in such a room.
A sudden realization flashed through her mind.
“Surely not……”
“Belcourt, bring him here.”
“Yes, sir.”
The man standing behind the Count turned toward the dining room exit.
Not long after, he returned with someone.
It was Bernard Moore, the old butler.
“Master!”
The moment the butler stepped into the dining room, he practically hurled himself to his knees, crying out.
“This is unjust! I have never misappropriated a single coin from the Count’s Household! The Countess’s belongings have nothing to do with me whatsoever! If I’ve failed in managing the servants, that fault is mine alone, but to have my loyalty to this house questioned is simply outrageous!”
The old man certainly had knees of remarkable durability, and his loyalty ran surprisingly deep.
Daisy nodded in acknowledgment.
His loyalty was so overwhelming that he’d even looked at Daisy like she was an irritating pebble in his shoe, but…
“I clearly gave the same allowance to all three children.”
So that was it.
Well, missing out on pocket money was disappointing, but…
“Ten Gold per week.”
What?
Daisy’s lazy eyes sharpened to points.
Her capitalist-conditioned brain sprang into rapid calculation.
Fifty-two weeks in a year.
The butler had been cutting off her allowance for nearly four years.
Even by rough estimate…
“Twenty thousand Gold… twenty thousand hours of digging…
Daisy decided right then and there that she would definitely throw that old butler in a cell.

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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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