Surviving as a Terminally Ill Heiress - Chapter 58

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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 58

So you’ll be returning around your birthday, then.
I shrugged at Orka’s trailing remark.
“Well, that’s how it’s turned out.”
Of all times, the portal to Peta Territory had to stop working now.
A portal only remained functional if a mage periodically injected vast amounts of magical power to maintain it.
Portals appearing overnight and vanishing just as suddenly was simply the capricious nature of mages—something one learned to accept.
If anything, it was remarkable that this one had held for three straight years.
I let out a sigh.
“This is exactly why I kept saying we should have laid down the railway sooner.”
Well, it’s not a simple matter, is it.
“True enough. But the speculation’s overheated right now anyway, which is its own problem… Ah, Shasha! Don’t eat that!”
I forced open Shasha’s mumbling snout.
Out tumbled a damp wasp carcass.
Shasha trotted off without the slightest regret at my disgust.
Not even going to eat it, yet still insisting on tormenting me. Though that doesn’t mean I approve of actual consumption.
While I was shaking my head, another batch of tedious wasps came flying in.
“Orka, I have to cut this short—things are getting busy. Contact me if anything urgent comes up.”
Understood. I’ll distribute the inheritance as you specified beforehand.
“Good. Thanks for that.”
I hurried to cut the communication, but I was too late.
In an instant, a honeybee’s head was rolling across the ground, hunted by a wasp.
What a shame. I watched with sorrowful eyes.
‘…This is why bees born in warm seasons are like this.’
Their average lifespan of barely one or two months existed for a reason.
Their deaths came down to three main causes.
Wasps, mites, and overwork.
Insects dying from overwork—I’d found it absurd the first time I heard it.
Truly, they worked themselves to death carrying nectar and pollen until their wings wore thin and their muscles dissolved completely.
‘You lot really do have it rough… or rather, a bee’s life isn’t easy at all.’
I clicked my tongue softly.
In the warm late autumn of the southern regions, the wasps were unusually fierce, as if it were midsummer.
This was the season when flowers faded and the new queen bee destined to lead next year’s colony prepared for hibernation.
Facing starvation and heightened irritability, they made one final, desperate rampage.
Yet no matter how fierce…
‘They won’t survive the year anyway before they die.’
Most wasps perished with the old queen when the first frost arrived.
Only the new queens that they had carefully raised and successfully mated with would enter hibernation.
The rest, their purpose exhausted, passed away in the cold and hunger.
And come next spring, the new queens awakened from hibernation would birth an entirely fresh generation, carrying forward another year.
‘A life where everything passes to a single successor and burns away grandly…’
Was it futile to say, or rather, tenacious?
I stared at the wasp corpse, still not quite looking dead, with uncomfortable eyes.
In contrast, honeybees born in cold seasons survived alongside their queen.
They endured winter by sharing warmth and stored food with one another, welcoming the spring to come.
Thus becoming wise elders who guided the young, naturally passing the torch to the next generation.
‘Really no different from humans.’
Once I learned about bee ecology, I thought about this occasionally.
Had I, in my previous life, been a honeybee born in the warm season?
‘…But my birthday is in winter.’
Now I had finally found the right hive.
When winter came soon, I would be fourteen.
I would be…
‘I’ll be a fourteen-year-old heiress!’
I threw my arms up with an internal cheer.
If Tru had seen that, she would have laughed at me for being fashionably late.
But it was truly just that the inheritance period had been long, so I’d remained composed—how could I not be pleased?
‘At last the inheritance heiress life I’d so desperately wanted is complete!’
As if to echo my joy, everything around suddenly fell quiet.
The sunset was deepening.
It was the time when bees, having spent a fierce day, returned home.
And it was time for a weary human to clock out as well.
Phew, everyone had worked hard since dawn today.
I tapped my shoulders and tidied up the surroundings.
As I efficiently put away the Smokers and Suction devices scattered about, Ivan, who was heading to check the Wasp trap, muttered again.
“You’re definitely a beekeeper at heart…”
I told him not to say such unlucky things.
When I blew smoke from the Smoker in his direction, he fled as quickly as a drone.
In any case, I should be grateful that he comes all the way down here to help whenever things get busy.
But it was getting irritating how he seemed to want to just pin me down here permanently now.
Clearly he was coveting my labor and beekeeping ability.
‘Though honestly, I suspect the latter is a misunderstanding.’
Ivan’s faith, no matter what I said, remained unshaken.
He claimed that with me around, the honeybees grew prettier, healthier, and Swarming incidents decreased.
With that reverent face of his, he’d spout such nonsense as ‘The Lord directly granted beekeeping to us Ambroses!’ on a regular basis.
I’d thought he was qualified to work at a temple, but he turned out to be a charlatan.
I stared at Ivan’s retreating figure with dissatisfaction.
“You amoral lot… Ugh, you’ve all worked hard.”
He swore at the wasps in the trap like a madman, then tenderly stroked the beehive filled with honeybees.
Tru, who had quietly approached, whispered.
“You never seem to be in your right mind, no matter when I see you.”
Your truthful mouth remains as it ever was.
I laughed vaguely and closed my eyes.
‘How exhausting…’
I wanted to leave work early and just collapse.
After finishing the cleanup, I trudged toward Ambrose Castle.
But of course my room in the castle had to be on the very top floor.
Thanks to that, my commute had become even more grueling.
“Meow!”
“No, you don’t…”
“Meow, meow!”
And on top of everything, that orange tabby was insisting on being carried.
I considered just leaving her behind, but giving in reluctantly, I picked Shasha up and began climbing the stairs one heavy step at a time.
Ugh, she’s gotten even heavier. No wonder I hate stairs. No snacks for a while.
Grinding my teeth, I collapsed onto the bed with Shasha the moment I reached my room.
“Nngh.”
My whole body ached from swatting wasps all day.
Ah, I’d sworn in this life that I wouldn’t do any manual labor like this.
All such vows eventually crumble.
I’m living proof, constantly being dragged back to Ambrose Territory, despite swearing I’d never return.
“Cursed capitalism.”
I buried my face in the bed and muttered darkly.
Workers are supposed to blame everything in the world at least once.
It was while I was blaming the whining Ivan, the old man foisting him onto me, and my own self for being seduced by generous wages each time.
Glimmer!
The Communication device I’d tossed onto the bedside table lit up.
I was happy even before checking who it was.
There was only one person who’d know my whole day’s schedule and contact me at this hour.
Unless it was my siblings…
“Matilda.”
Bebe, are you done with work?
“Yeah.”
Matilda, who had grown steadily brighter and no longer stammered since living alone with our mother, jumped straight to the point.
So when are you really coming?
She’d asked yesterday, the day before, and the day before that.
I laughed softly.
“Why are you being such a brat? You miss me that much?”
That too, and… I’m worried you might not come until after your birthday. Grime and Juliad are waiting too.
I’d already received a few calls from them.
Their earnest pleas for me not to be late echoed in my mind.
“A birthday’s not such a big deal…”
I mumbled indifferently.
Then Matilda spoke with definite firmness.
No. You’ve always let it slide like that. But you always made sure to celebrate our birthdays… This time, absolutely no brushing it aside.
“Okay, okay, I got it. Thank you.”
I finally ended the communication only after promising to depart at seven in the morning three days hence.
Matilda really is sincere and persistent. She loves pinning things down with exact numbers too.
‘She must take after Mother.’
Matilda, now the Hastings Marquis, was currently working in the finance department of the Ambrose Trading Company.
It was revealed that the Hastings family, which should have gone bankrupt long ago, had managed to stay afloat thanks to her hidden financial management skills.
And Gustav Ambrose was not the sort of man to let such talent slip away.

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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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