Surviving as a Terminally Ill Heiress - Chapter 16

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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 16

For a moment I thought I’d misheard.
But this shock that struck my heart through my ears was unmistakably real.
“……You don’t know? Really?”
He truly didn’t know what Wax Disease was?
I muttered to myself over and over, my mind reeling.
Perhaps offended at being told he didn’t know, Scott twisted his expression into something contorted.
“Hmph. Whatever it is, if it’s some paltry disease of the slums, it must be a poverty sickness.”
“…….”
“Born from malnutrition, filth, and laziness.”
“No.”
Before I knew it, I was speaking.
In that moment, on Scott’s cluttered desk, I glimpsed a Sandwich—something I could never afford on a day’s wages.
“……Malnutrition, yes. That’s part of it, true enough. The filth, well, that’s environmental circumstance. But laziness? Absolutely not.”
As I murmured, Scott let out a mocking laugh.
“Ah, so. You grew up in that place, so you’re trying to defend it, aren’t you. But throwing such a tantrum doesn’t change…….
“No.”
I met his eyes directly.
“No.”

* * *

In that instant, Scott flinched.
The look in the eyes fixed upon him was not ordinary.
‘The face is soft and innocent, but those eyes burn like his grandfather’s…….’
He consciously straightened his slumping shoulders.
To be intimidated by someone no bigger than a chestnut—it was unthinkable.
And by a woman of such base birth, no less!
Scott was nobility.
Third son of Count Kage, no less—the magnate of the Eastern Region.
His blood was different from that of filthy commoners.
The Kage household was far wealthier than the Ambrose Estate could ever be, and among the affluent Eastern nobles, they were renowned for their riches.
Being born as the third son rather than the first or second was Scott’s only lament.
A pitiful life where he could inherit nothing but money.
Fortunately, his parents and elder brothers doted on him and were not stingy with funds.
‘They even bought me the position of chief physician at the Ambrose Medical Institute.’
Did he know how much it had cost to obtain this position? And how much more it took to maintain it?
Thanks to it, wherever he went, people gazed at him with envy whenever he introduced himself.
The greatest honor a third son of a noble house could attain, short of imperial service.
And now this baseborn woman dared to ruin his standing?
‘Not once, but twice……?’
Scott gritted his teeth.
Those with mixed blood were always like this.
They couldn’t distinguish where they belonged and where they didn’t.
“There’s nothing more to say. Conversation is only for those who understand each other. I’ll take my leave…….”
“If you catch Wax Disease, your limbs stiffen.”
Rabeune spoke calmly, her expression and tone shifting little.
It made the words feel somehow more sinister.
“The pain of tearing muscle and numbness begin at your fingertips and toes, then climb slowly toward the center of your body. Eventually it squeezes your heart until you die.”
“…….”
“And my mother danced—even when the symptoms reached her Dantian.”
Rabeune tilted her head after speaking.
As if to say she simply could not accept what came next.
“Is my mother lazy? So she caught the disease because of that……?”
So the disease afflicted her mother.
A dancer from Rits, was she?
Now it made sense, Scott thought with a bitter smile.
“Then it could have been Courtesan’s Disease……!”
Crack!
That was the moment.
Scott collapsed first, only afterward understanding what had happened.
The chair lay upended, and Sandwich fragments scattered around his stinging face.
Rabeune had thrust the Sandwich plate itself at his face like a blow.
This—this mad……. Scott trembled at a humiliation he had experienced exactly once in his life.
Rabeune looked down at him sprawled across the wreckage, her face sorrowful, and muttered to herself.
“Ah, there goes two guilders…….”
By her bloodline, she was clearly mad.

* * *

I bolted.
Scott, furious, had tried to seize my hair.
Anyone would have lost in a fair test of strength after knocking an old man down; it was only natural I gave ground.
Soon enough he was chasing me down the corridor, a slice of meat draped across his face and sauce coating him everywhere.
As I ran, I clicked my tongue.
‘What a crybaby.’
At least it was a Sandwich—could’ve been worse.
Go ahead and live as the worthless slum girl you claim I am. This doesn’t even register as rough treatment.
I must have been around eleven or twelve when I started serving at a restaurant once I’d gained enough strength. I remember getting exactly this treatment once when someone complained the order was wrong.
‘I saw the hot soup flying straight at me but couldn’t dodge it.’
Only the first time, though. After it happened a few more times, I grew used to it.
I got very good at dodging food flying from every angle. Sometimes I even pretended to miss and sent it back to the customer.
In those days, though, I was less experienced. I couldn’t quite process it as real.
The thought ‘surely something like this doesn’t happen?’ clung to me stubbornly.
But reality always exceeded imagination.
That violent customer was raging wildly, but the moment a large man emerged from the kitchen, he immediately quieted down.
“My goodness. Are you alright?”
Just like that.
Just before Scott could grab me, I collided with a man who had suddenly appeared and looked up at him.
He had the bearing of a skilled warrior, with short hair and a boyish, mischievous impression.
His height and build, the sword hanging at his waist, and the uniform resembling the guards stationed at the Ambrose Estate’s front gate—
‘……He’s a Knight from Ambrose.’
Once I’d identified him, I finally caught my breath.
My legs trembled after the sudden sprint.
Whew, my stamina is still terrible. It’s caused me no end of trouble finding work.
The Knight who had righted me looked back at Scott and froze.
“You came for treatment……but, physician, what happened to you?”
Scott’s face reddened—whether from heat or the tomato sauce dripping from his chin, it was hard to tell.
His eyes rolled back and he bellowed.
“How dare this wretched woman……!”
“Woman?”
The mischievous playfulness drained from the man’s face in an instant.
He looked between me and Scott.
Once he’d assessed the situation, he clasped his hands behind his back and asked me politely.
“If I may inquire—would you like my help?”
I blinked stupidly.
In a situation like this, he was asking ‘would you like help’? Straightforwardly? With no price asked?
I realized it was the one thing I’d almost never heard an adult say in my entire life.
“……Yes, please help me.”
And this was something I’d almost never said in my entire life.
As I spoke the words awkwardly, the man nodded.
“Then I’ll settle this swiftly.”
Huh?
The man reached without hesitation for his sword.
“What are you going to do?”
“He insulted Ambrose. He must pay. I’ll simply cut out his tongue.”
I gaped.
Wait—can he really do that? Isn’t Scott a nobleman? Wouldn’t this make things worse?
Scott stumbled backward, caught off guard by this sudden turn.
The man took one more step forward, then looked at me and said, “Ah.”
“If seeing it would be difficult for you…….”
“I want to see it.”
With both eyes wide open.
But, no.
After a moment’s hesitation, I waved my hand with a reluctant expression.
“That’s too much. I don’t think I can ask for that.”
In my heart I wanted to kill him, but I didn’t actually want to see a man’s tongue cut out because he misspoke.
He looked sufficiently terrified as it was.
I glanced at Scott’s ashen face and spoke to the man.
“That’s enough. Thank you for your help.”
“……I see.”
The man shrugged regretfully and slid his half-drawn blade back into its sheath.
Scott collapsed to the floor where he stood.
Toward that face painted with relief at being spared, I murmured.
“There won’t be a next time.”
It was a final warning.
Never insult me or my mother again.
I turned to leave, putting strength into my stride.
Flash!
‘Huh……?’
Why was I flying?
The man following behind had suddenly scooped me into his arms.
I stared at him in confusion, and he was smiling with that boyish mischievousness again.
“You looked like you needed help again.”

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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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