Surviving as a Terminally Ill Heiress - Chapter 40

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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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Episode 40

Maybe I was seeing things wrong. Though I couldn’t see clearly anyway.
I tilted my head and followed after them.
In any case, my first homemade Magical Artifact had come into being.
Work proceeding officially with investment from Duke Ambrose.
My chest swelled with something between hope and anxiety.
I could only pray that everything would unfold smoothly from here.

* * *

Though it was hardly in my nature for things to work out that way.
“Miss Bebe… the servants in the West Wing have been scolded again for cleaning.”
“Again?”
For several days now, the maids had been returning utterly exhausted.
It was because of the Mage staying in the West Wing.
“It’s a complete mess.”
At first they’d spoken carefully about the Mage, but now the servants described it plainly.
The West Wing was absolutely chaotic.
Every other day—disarray, disasters, explosions… explosions?
“No one’s been hurt, have they?”
I asked in alarm, and the maids answered with doleful expressions.
“No, no one’s injured, but… just thinking of scrubbing soot all day brings tears to our eyes.”
The maids pinched their noses and grimaced.
Good heavens, the poor things.
I covered my mouth with my hand.
I found myself sympathizing with them deeply.
‘The young master’s room where I used to work was far filthier than this.’
It was truly, desperately dirty.
Even after scrubbing myself to the bone every day, I’d turn around and find it filthy again.
Truth be told, the man himself was filth incarnate.
I’d wanted nothing more than to throw him whole into a trash bin and burn him.
That truly would have been cleaning the world properly.
As I wistfully recalled what I’d never dared do, the maids continued their complaints.
“And the materials he orders—they’re all so grotesque.”
“Like what?”
“Things like seven Mutated Butterfly Wings, twelve Rabbit Eyes Open in Death, eighteen Red-Bellied Frog Hind Legs…”
Those… why would those be necessary?
Those things are going into my commission? How could that be?
I’d have to handle those myself?
But my worries were luxuries the maids couldn’t afford.
They lamented that they had to fetch the materials themselves and handle the disposal afterward.
My sincere apologies to you all.
I closed my eyes for a moment and offered my regrets silently.
“And his demands are so utterly unreasonable!”
“The young Apprentice is quiet enough, but the Mage just keeps barking orders—bring this, fetch that. It’s excessive.”
“And this time he’s demanding we procure a white-furred cat in its entirety…”
One maid’s rambling stopped abruptly.
Silence fell over us.
Suddenly, all of us—myself included—looked toward the same spot.
On the sofa lay Shasha, sprawled on her back in her sleep.
Her belly had been bathed just yesterday, and her fur there was spectacularly white.
“Absolutely not.”
I murmured it quietly, and the maids nodded in agreement.
I’d need to be more careful about locking doors from now on.
But danger always arrives the moment you think to brace against it.
After supper, I stopped by the Study on my way back and found my door wide open.
The culprit had to be either Ambrose or Dido—I’d warned them both!
A quick look around confirmed it: Shasha was gone.
The blood drained from my face.
I bolted from the room.
“Shasha!”
But no matter how hard I searched, Shasha was nowhere to be found.
Not even in the Kitchen, her favorite spot.
Could it be? Had she been caught by the Mage already?
No. It couldn’t.
My lips began to tremble.
“No, my silly girl!”
Without hesitation, I headed for the West Wing.
Or rather, I tried to.
In the Lobby between the East Wing and West Wing, through a half-open Entrance Hall door, I saw him—and stopped in my tracks.
‘The Mage’s Apprentice!’
I walked toward the silhouette in the Indigo Robe.
No—I ran.
I began to run toward him, my pace accelerating.
Because at his feet lay Shasha.
“Shasha!”
Though I called to her, she paid me no mind and simply stretched out languidly.
That spoiled brat! Putting herself in danger like that!
But wait—why was this Apprentice looking so pleased with her?
The moment that struck me, I understood.
It was the boy.
When he removed his robe, his face was revealed, and I stopped dead.
Oh, my Shasha.
‘You light up around him.’
Just like someone.
I stood there gaping stupidly, when he spoke first.
“We meet again.”
How could his voice be like that?
Not a single jarring note—a voice as smooth as honey.
Honest to heaven, even an insult from him would sound sweet.
“You’re pathetic.”
“What did you just say?”
Though really, I shouldn’t have cursed at him like that.
But his tone seemed to sharpen my wits a little.
Right. Get a grip. Stay rational. Be logical about this.
I gathered what remained of my scattered senses and asked coldly:
“Do you have a death wish?”
Instinct won out.
Uncontrollable fury rose in my chest again.
It was hard to manage my emotions when he provoked me with that face.
I knew I would remember this moment for the rest of my life—him cursing at me.
Purely because of that face of his.
“Ha—ha!”
Because of that face of his.
His eyes widened, then he broke into laughter.
Insane. The Apprentice was laughing.
Just as I was about to lose my wits again, he looked at me with amusement dancing in his eyes.
“Maybe you’re the one who wants to die?”
It was an odd combination.
His tone was savage, yet he clearly seemed to be enjoying himself.
Shasha, oblivious as ever, remained curled against his side.
I took a deep breath and spoke.
“Listen, Mage’s Apprentice.”
He tilted his head with a soft hum.
I wasn’t sure if it was my sudden shift in tone or the formal address that caught his attention.
Now that I’d somewhat adapted to that face, I spoke deliberately and clearly.
“I’m the daughter of House Ambrose. This is the Ambrose Residence.”
“And?”
“Are all Mage’s Apprentices selected for their stupidity?”
The boy burst out laughing again.
Was he genuinely not understanding, or was he pretending?
I spoke step by step, carefully.
“Think about it. You came here following your master, who accepted a commission from me. You’re saying yes to that, right?”
The boy, arms folded, gave a shrug.
“Fine, let’s say I agree.”
Let’s say? I ought to slap him silly.
The conversation wasn’t going anywhere.
People say all Mages are terribly clever. Who started that ridiculous rumor?
It’s infuriating. But I am, after all, the older sister to two boys.
Glaring at him, I pressed on with stubborn resolve.
“Then you owe me respect, don’t you?”
“I don’t want to.”
“Why are you even alive?”
Now the boy did nothing but smile that infuriating smile.
Does he think everything I say is a joke? I’m being dead serious here.
My strength drained away.
Apart from that face, the fact that he kept laughing made it worse.
‘He must be deficient somewhere.’
It went beyond what could be excused by Mage eccentricity.
Even his master didn’t behave like this.
So let me just accept it. Pity the poor boy and move on, that’s all. Don’t get dragged in further.
“Fine. Go on, get out of here. Shasha, come here.”
I waved him off and called Shasha, but she wouldn’t budge.
That traitorous beast.
Eyes narrowed, I strode forward to scoop Shasha into my arms when—
“Why do you live?” he asked.
“Gah—”
“Sounds like you’re tired of life yourself.”
My senses reeled into chaos.
First my vision spun wildly, and only afterward did the sensation of my throat being squeezed register.
I hung suspended in the air like the Genie that day.
Not high up, but the ground felt impossibly distant below my feet.
Perhaps because black mist swirled around me—mist dark as the boy’s hair itself.
It felt like falling into an abyss.
Then it happened.
Meow!
Shasha yowled—a sound I’d never heard her make before.
The scream tore itself from my throat unbidden: Run!
Through my dimming vision, I saw Shasha with her fur standing on end, facing the boy.
Shasha, no. It’s dangerous—
That plea, too, never left my lips.
My mind was growing fuzzy.
“Ugly thing carrying something strange around,” the boy muttered.
For a moment, the black mist seemed to blur and fade.
Thud!
And I fell.
From that low height, I landed hard on my tailbone, gasping for air as I coughed violently.
Only then did the reality of what had happened sink in.
He’d strangled me.
Me. In my own house’s courtyard.
By that cursed Mage’s Apprentice.
I looked up at him.
He stood there with the same flat expression as if he’d just stepped on an ant.
Grinding my teeth, I forced out my voice.
“I’m not ugly, you bastard—”
I have my mother’s face.
And then everything went black.

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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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