The Fake Wife of the Strongest Husband Wants to Survive - Chapter 29

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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 29
Clark the Duke approached Io, calling out to her, when he caught sight of Pesha and Owen and came to an abrupt halt.
“My, Count Namoi. What brings you here? This is a venue where one cannot enter without an invitation.”
The way he said it, presuming outright that they surely hadn’t been invited, somehow echoed his daughter’s manner of speech.
Pesha, irritated, replied curtly.
“We received one.”
At that, Clark the Duke asked in surprise.
“An invitation went to the House of Namoi? That seems impossible. Did the Countess perhaps have some connection through her time as Princess Laïdel?”
As Pesha, affronted by his open disdain, said nothing, Clark the Duke merely shrugged and changed the subject.
“In any case, have you given thought to the proposal?”
A hollow laugh escaped her.
She’d assumed he was playing tough because he had no interest in a contract, yet here he was, convinced she’d sign despite those terms. It struck her as absurd.
“What proposal?”
“The potion contract, of course. I suspect you’re dragging your feet to raise your asking price, but you ought to know that what we’ve offered is already generous. This child here—a Purification Mage like our Io—such a potion simply cannot wield the same influence.”
Clark the Duke didn’t stop there; he even clicked his tongue sympathetically, as though pitying Pesha.
“Well, if you’re truly concerned about it, I could raise the terms a little, out of respect for your friendship with Io.”
“Ah, so you could raise them a little.”
The patronizing air of it was infuriating.
Just as Pesha was thinking she might as well leave the Duke’s invitation be and go, the surroundings grew somewhat tumultuous.
She turned her head to see Fontloy the Duke entering through the party venue’s entrance.
It would have been an unremarkable scene, except for one surprising detail: he was not leaning on his cane as he usually did.
Fontloy the Duke stood upright on both legs and walked without the slightest limp.
His movements were smooth and natural, as though he had never been infirm at all.
“How is this possible? Duke Fontloy always walked with a cane before.”
“Has his leg healed?”
“That can’t be. We were told it was a wound from a monster. That’s why it went untreated for so long, isn’t it?”
“Could it be that the Duke’s daughter…?”
“The Duke’s daughter?”
“She’s a Purification Mage, so she may have helped him. I believe she attended today’s party as well.”
The murmuring among the gathered people grew louder as Fontloy the Duke drew near.
Yet the Duke’s footsteps, which seemed to be heading toward Io, passed her by and stopped before Pesha instead.
“Countess Namoi, how delightful of you to come! The Count looks particularly radiant today!”
The Duke’s face was beaming with genuine joy as he greeted them warmly.
“Your Grace. I offer you my heartfelt congratulations on your birthday.”
Receiving Pesha’s greeting, Fontloy the Duke let out a hearty, delighted laugh.
“Thank you for the congratulations. Thanks to your Purification Potion, I’m celebrating the finest birthday of my life!”
Then one of the nobles turned to ask Fontloy the Duke.
“Your Grace. Can you now walk without your cane?”
“Indeed, I can.”
“I’d heard it was an aftereffect of illness—how did you…?”
“An illness? The wound on my leg is an old scar from a monster attack long ago.”
“A monster? I’d never heard of that.”
“Well, one doesn’t go about boasting of such things. But thanks to the Countess’s potion—which purifies the Monster Aura—I’ve been able to recover completely.”
As Fontloy the Duke directed all the credit toward Pesha, curious eyes fixed upon her.
No one in the Empire was unfamiliar with who Count Namoi was, yet the woman who’d entered into a political marriage with him was not nearly as renowned as Owen’s fame.
Therefore, the news that Count Namoi’s wife had healed Duke Fontloy’s leg drew considerable interest.
“Such a potion exists?”
“I’ve never heard of anything like it. I’m truly curious.”
Fontloy the Duke, as though he’d been waiting for precisely this reaction, proceeded to introduce the potion to the gathered crowd.
“I was fortunate enough to have my leg healed, but there are still many people in the Eastern Region suffering.”
“But don’t Monster-purifying potions already exist on the market?”
“The effect of those is negligible, but this one is remarkably potent. Should the Countess’s potion become available, the plight of those suffering from Monster Aura would improve considerably.”
“Remarkable. To heal even an old injury…it’s truly extraordinary.”
“This groundbreaking potion has been placed under an exclusive contract with the Fontloy Trading Company and will soon be sold throughout the entire Empire.”
A Monster-purifying potion, superior to what had existed before, now endorsed by a Duke who had experienced every luxury and marvel the world had to offer.
With word of its greater efficacy alone, it was certain to sell briskly.
The quick-witted among them swiftly recognized the value of a product that could simultaneously confer both honor as a nobility serving the people and substantial financial gain.
With the backing of the Fontloy Trading Company, one of the largest merchant houses, it was clear that success was guaranteed with mere token involvement.
Those whose interest was piqued began vying for any opportunity to speak with Pesha.
And then it happened.
Before the Duke could finish his introduction, Clark burst in with a sudden question.
“Wait a moment. An exclusive contract, you say?”
“Just as you heard. I’ve already concluded the agreement with the Countess Namoi.”
Clark’s face flushed with anger.
“What do you mean by that! The Countess came to sign a contract with our Uz Trading Company!”
“And yet she didn’t sign with Uz in the end, did she?”
Clark’s words caught in his throat.
He’d assumed that once he lowered the price, she would bow and accept his terms—but he hadn’t expected Fontloy to sniff out the ploy.
As Clark trembled with fury at having lost such a prize catch, Fontloy deliberately turned to address Pesha.
“Countess, to sell the potion, we’ll need a name for it. Do you have one in mind?”
“A name? Well… since it’s a hybrid of Seed flowers and Loka grass, I thought we might call it Seedloka?”
“An excellent name indeed.”
Despite the somewhat casual naming, Fontloy seemed genuinely delighted.
Since the Duke himself had personally demonstrated the potion’s efficacy, the intrigued nobles began to probe for an opening in conversation, eager to invest in the production or distribution of the remedy by whatever means they could.
But then a sharp voice cut through the crowd.
“This is absurd!”
Turning around, Io stood there with her face twisted in fury.
“I have some knowledge of purification myself, and I’ve never heard of such a potion. What on earth are the ingredients? How does it purify Monster Aura?”
All eyes shifted toward Pesha.
Though taken aback by the accusatory tone of the question, Pesha considered that as a Purification Mage, Io’s curiosity was understandable, and she answered calmly.
“As I mentioned, the primary ingredient is a newly cultivated grass species created by crossing Seed flowers with Loka grass. There are other medicinal components as well, but I’m afraid I cannot disclose the exact formula.”
Io let out a derisive laugh.
“Are you joking? If mere purification herbs had any effect, people like me wouldn’t exist as Purification Mages in the first place. Besides, you’ve never formally studied herbalism, have you? You’ve just flipped through a few books and think you know something?”
Shocked by this unexpected response, Pesha stared at Io in silence.
‘Villainess Pesha Raidel’—to avoid that ending, she’d thought, but in those days she and Io had been the closest of friends.
Had it all been her own delusion?
Io was consumed not merely with anger at having her domain trespassed upon, but with a desperate need to tear Pesha down.
“I don’t know what tricks you’ve used on Duke Fontloy, but Monster Aura isn’t something you can handle so easily.”
As Io spoke with resolute certainty, the corner of Pesha’s mouth twitched upward.
After a moment, Pesha asked in a quiet voice.
“If I can handle it?”

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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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