Rewriting the Trash Ending - Chapter 49

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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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49.

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Pendro Estate, Greenhouse.
Belia sipped her tea, listening quietly to the conversation of the young ladies.
“…The products sold in shops are far too greasy, but the Moisturizer Her Highness gave us doesn’t feel sticky even after application?”
“The fragrance is lovely and it spreads so smoothly that I only use it before going out.”
The young ladies who had attended the audience ceremony together were too busy marveling at the gifts they’d received from the Grand Duchess.
Word was that she’d personally sent them to noble families who’d written to the Grand Duke’s Palace and to those who’d participated in the audience, which was why this Moisturizer had become the talk of High Society lately.
‘And yet, not long ago they were saying how much they disliked the Grand Duchess.’
Belia swept her cold gaze over them.
Because she was from the Empire.
How were they to accept an Imperial princess abandoned by her own court as their Grand Duchess?
The fickleness of it—all those complaints, and now they turned on their heels for a mere jar of Moisturizer.
“But isn’t the fragrance similar to the one you wear, Belia?”
“Is it?”
Belia’s lips tightened slightly.
“When I asked what Perfume you used, you said it was a gift that came to the house, so you didn’t know. It must be an Imperial product.”
“…I didn’t know it was Imperial-made, but yes, it seems so.”
“It’s so peculiar that it has no base notes, only the flower scent. I wonder if all Imperial people use only these kinds of Cosmetics?”
The young lady promptly broke into laughter, marveling again at how wonderful the fragrance was.
Belia lifted her teacup to conceal her stiffened lips.
Thanks to her father’s position as Foreign Minister, she had always used luxuries from foreign lands instead of the musty Northern Region products her peers wore.
The fine fragrance that emanated from her skin was one of the reasons she had secured her place as the flower of High Society.
But now.
‘Good things ought to remain one’s own secret—why share them with others?’
Something twisted inside her.
The Grand Duchess’s gift of Moisturizer had essentially laid bare her private advantage.
“But is that story really true?”
“Which story?”
“Her Highness apparently said that Curses are Superstition. That such things were common in the Imperial court.”
“That’s only because Her Highness hasn’t yet learned about the Grand Duke’s House.”
“But she sounded so convinced—couldn’t it actually just be Superstition?”
“If it’s Superstition, then everyone who believes in it must be a fool, yes? Isn’t that right, Belia?”
Belia, who had been sneering inwardly, spoke with a smile on her face.
“…Her Highness’s words aren’t entirely without merit. That said, we can’t declare that everyone else’s beliefs are wrong, so perhaps we’ll know the truth later.”
“Ah, yes, I suppose that’s fair.”
The atmosphere chilled slightly.
She meant that they would know whether it was Superstition or not once the Grand Duchess produced an heir.
‘Yet everyone knows how the previous Grand Duchesses died.’
Though they had perished in different ways, all had died within a year of bearing an heir.
And what of the power that successive Grand Dukes possessed?
Not only did the Ogre, representative of the Dragon-type, fail to invade these lands—even the dragon-type monster the size of a fortress, nested deep in the Demon’s Land, dared not breach them because of the Grand Duke.
That the bloodline of the Grand Duke’s House was special was a fact no one could deny.
With such power flowing through their veins, it was hardly strange that a Curse ran through their blood as well.
Once the Grand Duchess gave birth and died in whatever manner awaited her, would they truly be able to brush it off as mere Superstition?
While she was sneering at the foolish Grand Duchess, a maid quietly approached and whispered in her ear.
“Miss, the Countess of Mobert House is looking for you urgently.”
“Hmm?”
Belia tilted her head in puzzlement.
Why would the Countess come looking for her without any prior notice?
“She appears to be in some distress, Miss.”
Belia set down the teacup she had been holding.
“Ladies, I apologize, but I must step away for a moment.”
Ordinarily, she would have had the Countess wait inside the manor for a time, but something in the maid’s eyes and tone seemed amiss.
‘Has something gone wrong?’
If she had become useless, there would be no reason to meet her—yet curiosity about what was unfolding drove her forward.
“Miss!”
“Madam?”
An elderly woman stood trembling before the servants’ entrance of the Pendro Estate, waiting for her.
A faded grey robe, worn threadbare.
A dress caked with dirt and filth.
Hollow cheeks and hair the color of rust, disheveled and unkempt.
She was a wreck—nothing like the woman who’d once held her head high in finery.
“Miss, please. Won’t you help me?”
“Madam, what on earth has happened?”
Belia approached, feigning sympathy.
“Things have gone terribly wrong. The Grand Duke has decided to strip our house of its title and confiscate all our property.”
“What……?”
Belia stepped back.
What could the woman have done to lose even her title?
“As you suggested, I meant to teach the Grand Duchess how to manage a household, but a maidservant disobeyed my orders and acted on her own whims, and…….”
Magda continued talking, oblivious to the way Belia’s eyes had grown colder.
“In any case, I’ve been caught up in the consequences of what that foolish maid did on her own authority.”
“That’s impossible…… Did the Grand Duke truly revoke your title?”
“Yes. I was released from prison last night and hurried home, only to find soldiers already inside. They wouldn’t let me set foot past the threshold. I was driven out on the spot. My husband—I don’t even know where he’s gone…….”
Magda’s eyes reddened as she spoke of her grievances.
In a single night, she’d lost everything. She’d wandered the streets, asking for directions, until she found her way here.
You were the only person she could think to turn to.
“Won’t you help me, miss? After all, you bear some responsibility for my circumstances…….”
Belia’s expression froze.
“My responsibility? You should choose your words more carefully, madam.”
“But—you encouraged me to do this, didn’t you? I only acted on what you said……!”
“I merely agreed with what you were saying. If you were so upset, surely it wasn’t because of something I—your junior by marriage—might have suggested?”
“But you told me to shake the Grand Duchess’s confidence!”
“I simply said that if the Grand Duchess were struggling with her duties, we ought to help her at that time. Nothing more.”
“I……that is…….”
Magda’s face drained of all color.
The woman had come to her home and encouraged her to reach for power in the Grand Duke’s Palace, and now she was denying it all.
Magda realized at last that she’d been used, but her circumstances were too desperate to afford anger.
She’d been stripped of everything and cast out.
Her husband had lost his title and been turned out with nothing; she didn’t know where he’d gone.
She’d borrowed a carriage from commoners and eaten thin, lumpy gruel to fill her belly, and made her way here.
Her pride had long since worn away to nothing.
If even Belia refused to help, she’d wander the streets and die in misery.
“Please, miss. We’ve known each other all these years. I’m begging you…….”
Magda’s trembling hand reached out, skeletal and dry.
But—crack.
Belia struck the hand away coldly, her face twisting in disgust.
“How dare you touch me.”
“……!”
She wiped the spot where Magda’s hand had touched her with a handkerchief, then dropped it to the ground as if it were filthy.
The handkerchief drifted down slowly, settling uselessly on the floor.
“Simply meeting a few times and sharing tea hardly constitutes a lifelong bond. No matter how dire your circumstances, you ought to maintain propriety.”
“Miss…….”
“You’re no longer nobility, so if you’d prefer not to be arrested for Lèse-Majesty, I’d suggest you be more careful.”
“…….”
Belia turned away with a dismissive click of her tongue, as if there was nothing more worth seeing.
Whether the Grand Duchess’s standing was shaken or not mattered little to her.
She’d never believed the Countess of Mobert House capable of accomplishing anything of consequence with that dull mind of hers.
But the Grand Duke’s erasure of Mobert House from the records meant one thing: the Countess had committed High Treason.
She needed to sever the connection quickly.
Belia’s tongue worked thoughtfully in her mouth as she considered.
‘Should I leave her be?’
Seeing her come here without shame, desperate enough to reach out to a younger relative, suggested she might knock on other doors seeking aid.
If her name should slip from that woman’s lips to the wrong ears, it would become a nuisance.
Her emerald eyes flashed with a cold, killing intent.
Who would heed the words of a dowager who’d lost both title and honor?
But just to be safe, it would be prudent to silence that mouth.
She turned from her intended path toward the Greenhouse.
Then she quietly issued instructions to the one who handled Pendro House’s discreet affairs.
“There should be an elderly woman lingering outside. Watch her quietly, then dispose of her where no one will notice.”
“Yes, miss.”
An impoverished dowager dying of exposure on some cold street was hardly an uncommon occurrence.
She turned toward the Greenhouse with a smile, as though she hadn’t just issued such a chilling command, to return to those waiting for her.

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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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