Surviving as a Terminally Ill Heiress - Chapter 20

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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 20

Clara stiffened at my indifference, clearly caught off guard.
But I stood there as if I couldn’t care less, and right on cue, the other guests began to arrive in succession.
After exchanging the requisite pleasantries, we all made our way toward the Banquet Hall, and I found myself turning over the scattered intelligence I’d gathered about them.
“Grandfather, how fortunate—just yesterday I received a letter from Grandmother. Shall I show it to you?”
Clara Anne von Wagner, doll-like in appearance yet sharp-tongued.
Granddaughter of the late Duke’s sister.
A princess of the neighboring Wagner family, though her claim to succession amounts to little more than a courtesy; she came to Aterra as an exchange student at nine years old, three years past.
The consensus among her peers: a tiresome girl, vain to her core.
“How is Lillian faring? But more to the point, Brother—what brings you home at this hour?”
Howard Nelson, unsteady on his feet as always, a sorry sight.
Younger brother to Duke Ambrose.
Like most second sons of noble houses, he should have been left without a title—but fortune smiled, and he inherited the Nelson County Family name from a distant relative.
And a drunkard through and through.
“Indeed, as you say. You must be terribly busy… Ah, but I heard about Hessen Lake.”
Philip Ridley, his shrewd eyes concealed behind spectacles that caught the light.
The sole attendant of the missing young Duke.
Though in truth, it seemed he had merely followed of his own volition—a loyal retainer of the Ridley Viscounty Family, devoted to Ambrose alone.
In short, Ambrose’s devoted follower.
“Ha! How delightful—to share an evening meal with such a diverse assembly. This promises to be most pleasant.”
Susan Hawk, dressed in a worn blade and modest military uniform.
The late Duchess’s only cousin from her natal family.
In ages past, the Hawk County Family was renowned as a prominent knightly house in the capital, so they say.
Which is to say: not anymore.
Various scraps of information I’d picked up around the Mansion drifted in and out of my thoughts.
‘……In any case, every single one of them has something suspicious about them.’
I clicked my tongue inwardly.
And why exactly had I invited these particular people?
Because there were two things I needed to confirm.
One was obvious.
‘Which of them wants me dead?’
And the other was…….
“I’ve prepared a small gift for each of you for coming tonight.”
As I spoke upon entering the dining room, servants who’d been waiting stepped forward and fastened something around each guest’s wrist.
Corsages, each crafted from fresh flowers in different colors.
The petals glistened as if beaded with dew, and they were quite lovely to behold.
Howard blinked slowly, alcohol warming his gaze.
“Mmm? They look like jewels.”
“I applied a shimmering pigment to them.”
In this season, fresh flowers alone were expense enough; this had cost dearly.
I bit back the urge to weep and watched as Clara, wearing the pink bloom, stretched her wrist out to admire it.
“Hmm, not bad at all.”
“They’re beautiful—I knew they’d suit you perfectly.”
At my compliment, Clara broke into a grin.
Then she caught herself and quickly looked away.
A short laugh escaped me at the sight.
Perhaps it was her youth; even when she tried to act haughty, she was simply endearing.
I guided the guests toward the dining table and offered an explanation.
“According to my mother, in Ritz there was an old custom: whenever one invited a guest, one would present them with a handmade corsage.”
Not just at parties, but at weddings and even—strange as it sounds—at funerals.
Upon hearing this, the guests’ expressions shifted slightly, growing cautious.
A tradition of the Fallen Nation—hardly comforting. Yet they couldn’t very well refuse their hostess’s gift.
I pressed on, my smile perfectly guileless.
“But the corsage carries a beautiful meaning, you see.”
“What meaning is that?”
Susan, at least, had the grace to ask—possessed of a knight’s courtesy.
Before we all sat down, I gave the assembled guests one last look, then clapped my hands sharply.
“Begone, you wicked things!”
“…….”
“-is what the saying goes. I do hope you’ll keep it close to your heart.”
At the sound of my clapping, lavish dishes were brought out and served.
I offered the stunned guests a bright smile.
Having gone to such lengths in preparation, I hoped the meal would be satisfying for all.

* * *

The dinner proceeded smoothly enough so far.
The guests’ attention was fixed not on me, but on Duke Ambrose.
‘Yes. Just as I expected.’
Whenever someone rose from poverty to success, relatives by blood and by marriage, their neighbors, and even the neighbors’ distant cousins would flock to live off their fortune.
And if that happened in the slums, how much more so with nobility.
‘There’s no way they wouldn’t be trying to curry favor with the head of the Ambrose Family.’
I cut into the tender veal with a soft, silent laugh.
I glanced around the table at the seating arrangement once more.
Duke Ambrose at the head.
Me on his right, Howard on his left.
Clara, Susan, and Philip took their places in order along the table.
In fact, until this morning, I’d been quite uncertain about where to seat Clara.
She was a foreign princess, after all. I wasn’t sure how much deference to show a member of a royal family.
But then I’d thought to myself:
‘If he hardly respects his own imperial family, why should I fuss over a foreign princess?’
And so this arrangement came about—and to no one’s surprise, everyone accepted it as perfectly natural.
My instinct had been right. It was strange, though, how even good families had their quirks…….
“Now that I think of it,”
Philip suddenly opened a line of conversation directed at me.
“Did you write the invitations yourself?”
I swallowed the food in my mouth and looked up at him across from Clara before answering.
“Yes.”
“Did you have a calligrapher?”
“No, my mother taught me.”
I smiled with genuine pride.
Even while struggling to survive, my mother had done her best to teach me everything she could.
Aterran and Ritzian, simple arithmetic, and all the knowledge she possessed.
Honestly, most of it had been useless for survival.
In the slums of my past life, that is.
“My, is that so? That would explain why your table manners are…… not lacking?”
Clara’s eyes, fixed on me from beside my seat, wavered slightly.
Didn’t I say it? My mother’s knowledge had been useless in the slums.
Which meant it was quite useful in a setting like this.
I smiled brightly and dabbed the corner of my mouth with my napkin.
“Thank you for the compliment. Your manners don’t seem lacking either.”
Though they could hardly be called flawless.
I glanced pointedly at the drop of sauce Clara had spilled on the tablecloth.
As Clara’s face flushed as red as the sauce itself, a loud cough suddenly erupted from the head of the table.
“Ahem—cough!”
What was wrong? Had something lodged in his throat?
I turned to look at Duke Ambrose, who was covering his mouth with the hand wearing the corsage.
The red flower trembled helplessly with each cough.
Watching his brother, Howard began to giggle.
“You seem to be in an excellent mood, Brother.”
“Pointless nonsense.”
Howard paid no heed to the cold reply.
He continued to mutter even as he smiled.
“Then again…… to have an unexpected grandchild appear now, it must feel like a gift from heaven itself.”
By that logic, my appearance would be a divine hammer blow, wouldn’t it?
He had already experienced once the fortune of inheriting a house without a master.
Would he really hope for such rare luck twice in a lifetime?
Howard, wearing the orange corsage, raised his wine glass and began to drink deeply.
That stuff was supposed to be incredibly strong; I couldn’t help but furrow my brow.
Howard set his empty glass down with a sharp clink.
“Well, I never—what an unimaginable turn of events!”
Hahahaha. His drunken laughter rang out through the Banquet Hall.
“That stuffy fool Ansley fathering a bastard child—who could have guessed!”
Sssshhh.
The atmosphere plummeted in an instant.
The other guests shifted their eyes uncomfortably, though Howard seemed too dim-witted to notice the change.
‘Well, yes, I am a bastard.’
I myself was unconcerned about the matter.
Even having found my father, I was unquestionably an Illegitimate Child born to unmarried parents.
And a conservative nation like Aterra naturally had no love for creatures like me.
As a result, I’d carried the label “fatherless child” like a scarlet mark my whole life.
It meant one of two things.
Pity. Or contempt.
Even in the slums it was this way, so in aristocratic society it could hardly be better.
And my mother, moreover…….
“And with some nameless woman he picked up off the street, no less?”
There it was—the comment I’d been waiting for.
I drank my juice instead of wine in one long gulp.
I was growing tired of this, but Howard’s drinking hadn’t yet run its course.
“I mean, I never took him for the type, but really—driving a stake through your parents’ hearts like that…… where does one even begin?”
“That’s quite enough.”
Susan, unable to bear it any longer, cut him off sharply.
As the hostess, I couldn’t let the moment pass, so I opened my mouth with a look of gentle reproach.
“You know, your children could use a bit better discipline.”

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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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