Surviving as a Terminally Ill Heiress - Chapter 70

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————

Episode 70

…What?
The room dissolved into confused murmurs.
Clara seized my arm, demanding to know what had happened.
But my ears felt submerged in water, muffled and distant.
I simply shifted my gaze.
To those briny green eyes, waiting on the balanced Scale as though they’d known all along.
Olivia smiled sweetly.
‘I’ve been played.’
It had all been a trap.
Designed to make me misunderstand, to make me cling to this position, to orchestrate a scene this theatrical.
The most ridiculous figure in all of this was me.
I had reduced my own parents to a plaything.
I had cast doubt on a noble lady’s virtue.
And I had dragged House Ambrose’s name through the dirt.
I had clawed my way down, while they had soared without lifting a finger.
There was no comparison in this contest.
“Tsk, tsk. Did we not say this Judgment Session was held at the princess’s insistence?”
“How shameless, blinded by her own stubbornness, dragging her house and innocent siblings through disgrace…”
“It seems the House of Ambrose has run its course.”
“But even among bastards, the difference in breeding shows… true blood cannot lie, after all.”
“In any case, the next head of house is now settled.”
Ambrose retainers and other nobles whispered without restraint.
I laughed, sharp and hollow.
“Ha ha.”
I’d been played. Completely outmaneuvered.
There was no one to blame but myself. I’d been a fool.
Things had gone smoothly for a while, and I’d grown drunk on my Ambrose instincts and intuition, forgetting to think straight.
I had failed. I had lost. I had to accept it.
But before that, for now—
“Ansley Ambrose, you absolute bastard…”
I needed to curse first.
* * *
[Terion Ambrose did not insist on his rightful share and sow discord in the house.
Despite having no doubt whatsoever about his noble bloodline.
That very fact is proof of his character.]
But Ravigne Ambrose?]
“I’m finished.”
I summed up the newspaper article’s next sentence in one word.
Then I let out a small laugh, folded the paper, and hurled it away.
Matilda, sitting across from me, pulled a face.
“Bebe… Bebe…”
“Matilda, I’m fine.”
My words didn’t ease the tension in her face.
I flashed a brilliant smile to prove it.
“Really, I’m okay. What more could I lose?”
“Don’t say that. If it’s Bebe, you’ll bounce back soon enough—”
“I’m finished. Done. Completely finished.”
With that, I sprawled across the sofa.
Matilda eventually gave up trying to console me.
Life, right? One moment it flows, the next it all falls apart.
The trust I’d carefully built with the retainers over recent years evaporated in an instant.
I had become the entire empire’s laughingstock.
Ambrose Duke showed little reaction.
He simply looked at me with neither disappointment nor joy, and said,
‘I see.’
That was all.
As though discussing someone else’s affairs.
That indifference only made my fury burn hotter.
‘…At least scold me.’
As though you held some hope, some expectation for me at all.
Yet that’s precisely what—
“Matilda.”
“Hm?”
“If I still think they’re fake… would that make me insane?”
Matilda’s eyes widened in shock while her lips remained sealed.
This bordered on heresy.
The Balance Scale, bound by the Priest’s Oath, can never lie.
So that verdict must have been the truth.
Besides, to doubt it was to underestimate the mage’s power itself.
If Terion had actually used Magic to forge his testimony, Sky would have detected it on the spot.
And yet I still couldn’t shake the suspicion.
Why? Because I didn’t want to admit that Ansley Ambrose’s love for his mother was anything less than noble?
Perhaps. Yes, just because I’m pathetic…
“If that’s what Bebe believes, then that’s what’s true.”

“I believe. Always.”
Matilda spoke with her fists clenched tight.
I echoed the words like someone in a trance.
“Right. If that’s what I believe, then it’s the truth.”
Matilda nodded firmly in agreement.
I held her close for a moment, then released her and called her back.
“Despite all the information and warnings you were given, you’ve managed quite an impressive result.”
Philip’s words dripped with sarcasm.
Fair point.
I answered him with equal composure.
“Children are allowed to make mistakes.”

“I’m still a child.”
I was barely fourteen. No wonder my mother had given me the pet name Bebe—her eternal baby.
I continued as Philip’s expression grew incredulous.
“And when children make mistakes, adults are supposed to help them out sometimes.”
I said it as though he should already know this. Philip fell silent.
He seemed to lose the will to respond.
Sensing my moment, I made my request.
“Could you spread some rumors for me? Make them loud. Very loud.”
Loud enough for everyone in the nation to hear.
* * *
“Have you heard the rumor, Terion? That girl’s supposed to work at the Medical Center for a while.”
Olivia whispered like she was singing.
She smoothed her son’s hair with meticulous care as she spoke.
“They call it self-reflection and Voluntary Service, but really she’s been driven from the front lines. How fitting. The Duke must be absolutely furious with her.”
Terion made no reply.
He sat motionless like a doll, his eyes not flickering once.
Olivia continued chattering away as though she were used to his silence.
“Lucky for us, really. That foolish physician Scott or whatever his name is—we should have disposed of him anyway, but we can bundle him into this and clean it up all at once.”

“If she’d only stayed quiet, she might’ve even been treated like a proper lady. I told the Duke myself after the Judgment Session—I actually shouted it: ‘Something’s wrong here!’ Hahahaha!”
Olivia mimicked a young girl’s voice, then descended into helpless laughter.
She even dabbed at the tears that spilled from her eyes.
“Well, typical Ambrose instinct, for what it’s worth. Though in the end—”
Suddenly, Olivia seized the son’s hair she’d been combing so gently.
As if to make him look directly into the mirror.
“Now we are Ambrose.”

“More genuine than genuine itself.”
The green eyes reflected in the glass gleamed.
“Terion, your mother taught you, didn’t she? The world is divided between those who take and those who are taken from.”
The tips of Terion’s fingers, sitting motionless, were ragged.
The cuts had never healed properly.
Olivia gazed at them without emotion and murmured softly.
Ah. That must hurt.
“I’ll heal it for you.”
Terion simply closed his eyes in silence.
* * *
Ambrose Medical Center.
“So… I’m counting on you?”
I offered an awkward greeting, glancing around the space.
I stared pointedly at Scott, the director of this place, for a long moment.
Everyone in the Medical Center, Scott included, wore expressions of utter bewilderment.
They looked like they wanted to blurt out “Why the sudden Voluntary Service?” right then and there.
Well, to put it plainly, I had been demoted.
The official reason went something like this:
‘I will inherit not only the Duchess’s lifelong dedication to the Medical Center, but also continue her legacy.’
Of course, nobody believed that for a second.
The articles in Snearji made that clear.
[The Endless Fall of the Ambrose Princess… Even Rumors of a Rift with the Chief Physician?]
Scott couldn’t meet my gaze and looked away.
He must be feeling awkward and anxious.
I’d heard that Olivia and Terion hadn’t been visiting him much lately.
‘They don’t need him anymore, after all.’
If he had any sense, he’d figure it out soon enough.
He’d been used.
‘He deliberately got me hair dye and strands, all to catch me in that trap.’
And now look at him.
Disposed of after being useful as a one-time tool to expel me.
So naturally I’d resent Scott, and he’d lack any power to stand against me, right?
It was a conclusion everyone in Atera could predict.
As for Voluntary Service, without medical knowledge, the only work available to me was simple errands.
I prepared warm tea for the physicians who researched day and night.
I carefully distributed it to those who seemed grateful, but I set Scott’s cup down with a splash.
The scalding liquid rippled dangerously close to spilling over him.
“Be careful.”

“Right.”
I whispered menacingly and stepped back.
Scott swallowed hard, as though the nightmare of sandwiches had come back to haunt him.
He seemed to be imagining I might employ something far more sinister.
I watched his frightened back while humming softly to myself, tidying up the messy surroundings.
I was beginning to look forward to this.
‘I wonder when I’ll become a criminal.’

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————