Mad Rosetta - Chapter 128

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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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Rosette Gone Mad
Chapter 128
It is best to clap one’s hands louder than others (1)
* * *
“My left hand is still alive.”
“Seeing it like this reminds me of when you would turn the pages for me while we read together. Matching our reading pace was no trivial matter.”
“Let me read at my own pace.”
After showing my hand to the doctor, Sing began attending to my every need without warning.
While I was genuinely pleased that we spent far more time together, that did not mean there were no inconveniences.
The day after that ordeal, I nearly fell while trying to wash myself with one arm and let out a shriek. When Sing burst in without ceremony asking what was wrong, I ended up hurling a wooden basin at him.
“I was only worried about you…”
“I’m sorry.”
“My heart was pounding at the thought of you cracking your head open…”
“Then stop apologizing.”
He applied ice to the cheekbone where the basin had struck him, and after struggling for some time, I offered a deep apology with water dripping from the ends of my hair.
Once I found myself needing the innkeeper’s assistance each morning to bathe and dress, we both felt with acute intensity that it was time to depart.
I then informed the innkeeper of my intention to leave and, as a token of gratitude for lending us the cottage, added a generous sum to the payment.
Though the woman refused, Sing’s iron grip as he pressed the purse into her hands proved so formidable that we ultimately prevailed.
“After staying together all this time, parting feels so regrettable.”
…
At the edge of the village, Sing announced our separation.
Having achieved his purpose, I should have felt relieved.
Yet because we had spent such a long time together, parting felt unexpectedly melancholic.
It felt precisely like awakening from a fantasy and returning to reality.
“…Oh dear. If you make that face, how can you expect me to leave?”
Had my expression grown so forlorn?
He approached suddenly, seized my hood, and drew his face close to mine.
In that moment when darkness enveloped my vision.
His lips brushed against my cheek and withdrew.
“I’ll write to you, darling.”
“…Yes.”
“Be careful with your hand.”
Sing repeated his warnings several times, then naturally stepped backward as Benatra’s carriage drew near.
I had thought that ever since he took over Cessia’s body, he had grown uncomfortable with prolonged social contact.
Perhaps it was because we had spent time together recently as we once did—his smiling face showed no trace of unease whatsoever.
Perhaps he too had sensed, in his own way, that the end was drawing near.
As I climbed into the carriage, I glimpsed Sing waving discreetly beyond the window. I deliberately waved my splinted arm back and forth.
The carriage then departed, leaving him behind with a narrowed gaze.
“Ah, how amusing.”
The end of our journey, marked by quiet laughter, was a good one.
I had rested long enough. It was time to return to my proper place.
* * *
Father’s advice echoed in my mind: carry responsibility, yet maintain composure upon your return.
Armed with his words and bold aspirations, I had returned from Balmora to find myself utterly exhausted.
“Lady. If you wish to receive a massage, it would be more beneficial to relax while lying down to ease your fatigue.”
“…I am lying down.”
“Yes, while reading documents, ma’am.”
“I’m reading with my left hand, aren’t I?”
“That is because your other hand has been deemed unusable, has it not?”
Sara’s expression was stern, brooking no excuses for such obvious logic.
‘Curse it… No wonder Father is rarely home.’
Recalling how Father was perpetually away, I set down the documents.
They were financial statements processed during this year’s harvest season.
Would I be buried beneath piles of paperwork before long?
The practical education required of me as a decision-maker was grueling beyond measure.
I had to levy tariffs considering disputes with neighboring estates, manage separate records of estate taxes, and more.
At year’s end and beginning, I reviewed annual ledgers, conducted interim settlements, and issued directives whenever budget adjustments were necessary.
Beyond this, the Duke appeared to handle roughly three hundred sixty-four tasks annually.
No wonder Father was never seen, constantly inspecting the estate and engaging in relentless negotiations with the unyielding nobility in the Imperial Capital.
“Children.”
“Yes, Lady?”
“Do you know what you must learn far more urgently than how to be escorted with grace, or who will seize the renowned seamstress’s latest dress this winter?”
“…Pardon?”
At the Servant’s sharp signal to turn, I promptly rolled onto my side and glared ahead.
“It is mastering how to calculate swiftly.”
“….”
“By examining this quarter’s outstanding receivables ratio, one can determine the rate of grain price increases! From there, you can consider whether to implement price caps or regulate the farmers!”
“Ah, Lady.”
“Ha! But since my calculations are slow, I suffer headaches merely reconciling ledgers! So if you wish to avoid the shame of counting on your fingers, you must begin now to master the speed of arithmetic!”
I had spoken with genuine enthusiasm, dispensing wisdom that would become the very lifeblood of their lives.
Yet the children’s eyes gazing upon me brimmed with nothing but pity.
It was somewhat pitiful to call it merely frustrating.
Yes, I was describing myself.
Simply reviewing already-completed documents consumed an enormous amount of time.
‘Curse it. What on earth have I learned all this time….’
The early education I received from the moment I could speak contained only lessons on becoming an illustrious Princess.
From age eight, I had earnestly studied and mastered the education befitting an heir.
The problem was that I fell helplessly victim to Panilnia’s poison at the very moment my absorption was at its peak.
Though my confinement under house arrest lasted roughly a year and a half, I had entered it of my own volition when I could endure no longer. The period during which I neglected my studies was even longer.
Only because I resumed my education faithfully after drinking the antidote could I now comprehend various financial indicators.
Though truth be told, with my schedule so relentlessly packed, the days I actually managed to observe this ritual properly were few and far between.
“My Lady. A letter has arrived from Marmint. And there’s another one… it appears to be anonymous?”
Penny entered the room after knocking, turning the envelope over in her hands before pausing.
I raised one hand to signal that we could finish, and the Servant who had been absorbed in the massage quickly bowed and withdrew from the room.
‘It must be from Sing or the Guild.’
As I sat up to receive the letters, the Children hastily draped a thick blanket over my half-exposed form.
I had worried that I might end up like a turtle with my neck perpetually craned forward, but I had to admit—the massage had done wonders for my knotted shoulders and stiff neck.
“Hand me the letters—”
“….”
“…Right, of course. Just open Marmint’s for me.”
I reflexively extended my right hand, and Penny’s gaze fixed upon my bandage-wrapped arm.
It had been days since I returned from Balmora, yet I kept forgetting about the injury.
‘Did I do this to her?’
Penny deftly slit open the envelope with a paper knife and placed the letter in my hands.
Watching her now, having mastered even the art of dissuasion with a mere glance, I felt a curious mixture of emotions wash over me.
Ever since I had returned to the Household with a fractured bone, the Children had lamented that they should never have let me go alone.
Not entirely free of responsibility, I simply kept my mouth shut and relied on their assistance.
“Let’s see… Ah? So Marmint will be participating in the presentation this year as well.”
“Really?”
“How wonderful. Given the field, I understand the Medical Department rarely produces participants.”
The Children responded brightly to Marmint’s news.
Penny’s enthusiasm was expected, but even Sara and Reina seemed genuinely pleased—which struck me as oddly incongruous.
It was likely due to the recent revelation that Odette had used Panilnia, a deadly poison, against me.
Word had spread like wildfire that I had suffered from neurotoxic poisoning for approximately two years, and the despicable actions of the Epsilon Mother and Daughter had once again become the subject of public discourse.
Since information about the antidote entrusted to the late Dr. Drabe Beaumont had also leaked, I had effectively shed the ignominy of those days when I was called “Benatra’s shame, a dissolute Princess with a rotten character.”
‘I’m not sure whether to be grateful for this or not…’
Countless letters of sympathy had flooded into my room, yet I felt oddly unsettled.
Separate from what I had disclosed to the Security Bureau, I had hoped this truth would remain hidden from the world.

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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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