Surviving as a Terminally Ill Heiress - Chapter 9

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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 9

A gasp escaped my lips.
I held my breath at words that had spilled out before I could stop them.
This wretched honesty of his—shouldn’t it at least read the room before tumbling out like that?
Talking back to Duke Ambrose is one thing; I can at least count on blood ties for some protection. But the Imperial Household? That’s hardly a relationship to rely on.
‘Am I going to die again…?’
On a charge of Lèse-Majesty, or worse—drawn and quartered.
My eyes darted nervously around the hall.
The household staff and servants simply laughed or seemed unperturbed, while the Imperial contingent looked distinctly displeased.
Well.
‘That’s so very Ambrose.’
Everyone wore that expression on their faces.
Whether meaning it as praise or censure was unclear.
At any rate, it seemed the matter wouldn’t spiral into true disaster. Perhaps they were inclined to overlook such an outburst from someone still so young.
Seizing the opportunity, I hastily added something to the Imperial attendant.
“Thank you. Please convey my respects to Her Majesty.”
“…I shall take my leave now.”
The attendant, his brow furrowed, offered a shallow bow and turned to go.
He looked irritated, yet helpless—which made him all the more displeased.
‘Did I survive that?’
I exhaled slowly, watching the grim Imperial Knight Order depart with lingering anxiety.
If he snaps and comes at me anyway…
Ah. That’s when it struck me.
Yes, something had felt off, and now I knew what.
Something a knight ought to possess by default.
“They have no swords…?”
“Exactly.”
I spun around in surprise.
Duke Ambrose had appeared behind me at some point.
Was he heading to work now? He seemed to leave earlier yesterday, so why only now…?
‘Was he hiding somewhere, watching?’
If so, he could’ve helped me. If I fall out of favor with the Imperial Household, it’ll be troublesome for him too.
The moment I felt the sting of resentment, Duke Ambrose looked down at me with that eerie prescience and an arrogant glint in his eyes.
What he meant was perfectly clear.
I am a calculator.
You are the price tag.
Your wealth is for me to extract—so go ahead, let yourself be squeezed for all you’re worth.
‘How despicable.’
I gritted my teeth.
Frustrating as it was, I remained the one falling behind in this silent war.
Keep calm, Lavigne. Reason over emotion. Even if it means swallowing your pride, glean what information you can now, and prove your worth faster.
After a deep breath, instead of pouting at him, I asked sourly.
“Why?”
“Even the Imperial Household doesn’t bring armed knights into someone else’s home.”
“But…surely there’s no law against it, is there?”
When guests visited the baronial house where I once served, their escort knights always wore swords as a matter of course.
The baron’s household never objected to it.
Rather, there seemed to be an understanding that it was simply a knight’s duty.
Especially with the Imperial Knight Order—they’re hardly commoners, and their pride would never let them willingly surrender their arms.
“This is Ambrose.”
Duke Ambrose snorted as if there could be no other reason.
“In Ambrose, Ambrose’s law applies.”
Even the Imperial Household?
I asked silently with my eyes, and identical eyes answered back.
Even the Imperial Household.
I see. I nodded, oddly disconcerted.
Something felt strange.
By any commoner’s reckoning, no matter how great Ambrose might be, surely the Imperial House was unquestionably supreme in this realm—or so I’d thought, rabbit-like in my fear. But perhaps…
‘That fear may have been unfounded.’
I sensed that worlds I knew nothing of were about to unfold before me endlessly.
Even the object now in my hand seemed to hint at as much.
“Is this…expensive?”
I couldn’t help but ask.
This Pink Ribbon.
Even squinting, the velvet box contained only a single lustrous silk cord, lying loosely coiled inside.
It appeared to be fine quality, yet for a gift delivered by the Imperial attendant alongside the knight order, it seemed remarkably unassuming. I was dying to know what it actually was.
Could it be some enormous hidden treasure like my biological father’s rusty Ring?
“It could be, or it might not be.”
A riddle? Really?
I tilted my head, then pressed further.
“You mean its value is difficult to assess?”
“Perhaps.”
“…Then is there any benefit to me in accepting this gift?”
“Who knows.”
Is he trying to provoke me?
I glared alternately at Duke Ambrose, who answered only in riddles, and at the Pink Ribbon.
In any case, to summarize: this Imperial gift’s value is abstract and cannot be judged hastily.
At least, not ‘yet’.
Which essentially meant it all depended on what I did with it.
Above all, it was the sort of thing that wouldn’t shame someone sending it to the Duke’s daughter.
Wait—come to think of it, the attendant specifically mentioned who it was from…
Ah.
“It’s an invitation to the Empress’s Salon.”
“That’s right!”
At his sudden exclamation, I jumped and looked up. Duke Ambrose had already arranged his face into an expression of absolute composure, as if nothing had happened.
I might’ve thought I’d misheard. Why did he seem so delighted all of a sudden?
Anyway, the Empress’s Salon—it’s quite famous.
‘Notoriously so, in fact.’
Even among the common people and lesser nobility, it carried an air of secrecy.
Who receives invitations, by what criteria, and through what means—all of it was shrouded in mystery. So this was how it worked.
‘I never particularly wanted to know…’
That I, of all people, should receive an invitation from the Empress. It’s the kind of thing you’d have to die and be reborn to believe.
I opened my mouth, still somewhat dazed.
“So I’m meant to visit Her Majesty? When should I…?”
“Whenever you need to.”
Is that right?
I’m supposed to keep the Empress’s invitation in reserve and respond only when it suits me?
I glanced at the servants and maids instead of the dismissive Duke Ambrose, but they seemed equally unfazed.
It appeared that Ambrose had no law regarding respect for the Imperial Household.
My head beginning to ache, I snapped the velvet box shut and handed it to a maid.
“Take this to my room for now.”
“Yes, Miss.”
Then Duke Ambrose, hands clasped behind his back, ventured to ask.
“Displeased? Though this honor is something most people would covet their entire lives.”
Naturally, an opportunity to cultivate a relationship with the Empress would be tremendously prestigious.
The young lady of the baronial house I once served suddenly came to mind.
If she were the type to excessively revere the Imperial Household—a typical minor noble miss—she would have fainted from pure joy the moment she received that ribbon.
“Others might feel that way, but…”
I pressed my temples and spoke flatly.
“I prefer money to prestige.”
“Ha-hak…khem!”
Was that a laugh or a cough?
In any case, Duke Ambrose—who should have been leaving for work by now—stood beside me without budging.
He seemed to be waiting for something.
As I pondered, I hazarded a guess and spoke somewhat reluctantly.
“…Have a good day?”
“Hmm, very well.”
The oddly spirited Duke Ambrose strode briskly out through the door.
There was something off-putting about the way his figure seemed buoyant as he left.
And the servants and maids, who had watched our exchange, were grinning so widely their mouths nearly split. That irritated me too.
Still frowning, I was staring at the back of Duke Ambrose’s head when my eyes met those of a woman waiting for him outside the door.
‘Ah, the woman who took my Ring before.’
She greeted me with an elegant nod, and I returned it curtly.
The woman, wearing a faint smile, disappeared into a carriage with Duke Ambrose.
“Excuse me, who is that woman?”
“She is Naomi of House Seaman, the Master’s aide.”
My jaw dropped at the butler’s answer.
Duke Ambrose’s aide, is it?
She must be extraordinarily capable, surely.
As curiosity and intrigue stirred within me, the butler turned to speak warmly.
“And my name is Finn, Miss. Please speak freely.”
“Ah. You can call me Bebe. Nice to meet you, Finn. As for how I speak…this feels more natural.”
I gave an awkward smile.
The maids had asked me several times to drop the formal speech, but I wasn’t used to speaking down to others, and it felt difficult.
Eventually, we reached an unspoken agreement within the bounds of not diminishing myself.
The butler chuckled softly and spoke in a warm voice.
“Such a disposition—you take after the young Master.”
What? Did my biological father use formal speech too?
Now that I think of it, Maya seemed to regard me with deep eyes back then, when I didn’t speak down to the servants.
Yet that woman had lived a lifetime in nobility, and…
‘A high-born who doesn’t disdain the lower classes—considerate in that way.’
I couldn’t quite picture it.
The nobility I’d encountered in my previous life were uniformly arrogant, as if constructed to be so.
“Where is everyone! Why is no one here!”
Precisely like that.
The Chief Physician appeared at the top of the second-floor staircase, his voice ringing out sharply.
He’d apparently come down to the main hall because there were no maids nearby to run errands for him.
The timing was remarkably fitting—the moment Duke Ambrose left, he emerged like a fox in a tiger-less den.
“Bring me the medicinal herbs for today! Honestly, you people have no sense of what matters—mixing the daily draught for the Master is of utmost importance, yet you loiter about…”
The physician whirled around, having made his threat.
Perhaps it was my imagination, but it seemed he’d glared at me rather than the maids.
Yet something else concerned me more just then.
“…Is the Duke unwell? To take medicine every day like that.”
That wouldn’t do.
At minimum, I needed Duke Ambrose as my backing until I recovered here and established myself securely. This news was a thunderbolt out of the blue.
Besides, however little I might wish it, he was still my grandfather, after all.
As I clenched my fists, Finn answered casually.
“It’s merely a tonic, Miss.”
That physician is the one who needs medicine.

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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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