Chapter 29
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 29
“It has been a while, Lady Vanessa.”
The moment she opened the drawing room door and saw the man’s face, Vanessa slowly steadied her breathing. Count Roden. The fiancé her uncle had chosen for her. He was a man plagued by every sordid scandal imaginable, and the rumors that he had nearly a dozen illegitimate children in the capital alone were all but confirmed.
And then there was the memory of their last meeting at the disastrous engagement ceremony…
“Count Roden.”
Vanessa quickly gathered herself and offered a polite curtsy, bowing her head slightly. A crinkly smile formed around the old man’s dreary eyes.
“For some reason, Lady Vanessa, you do not seem particularly pleased to see me.”
“…I was merely surprised. I received no prior notice of your visit, nor have I been told why you sought me out in such haste.”
“First, sit down.”
“Where is my uncle?”
“He stepped away to take a telephone call. Sit, Vanessa, unless you intend to stand the entire time.”
The moment she hesitated, his tone turned overbearing. Vanessa bit her lip and sat in the seat he indicated. Immediately, Butler Harold, who had been standing silently nearby, set down a teapot and teacups.
“This tea was imported directly from Santra. I quite enjoy its fine aroma. I gave the leaves to Harold with a special request, and it seems he has prepared it just in time.”
“…Do you often enjoy tea?”
“I am rather fond of it. They say it’s fashionable these days to brew it cold with ice and lemon, but I prefer it with cream, like this.”
He generously stirred cream and three or four spoonfuls of sugar into the steaming tea, then set the cup and saucer down in front of her.
“Go on, drink.”
She carefully lifted the teacup and took a sip.
“How is it?”
“…It is fine.”
Black tea loaded with cream and sugar was not to her taste, but the quality of the leaves themselves was excellent. Then again, compared to the tea she had drunk in River Ross’s cabin, almost anything would taste good.
The tea that man used was military-issue, for starters, and his habit of brewing it incredibly strong to ward off sleep made it taste more like medicine—something an ordinary person could hardly stomach. Her first taste of it had been shockingly dreadful.
How ironic.
Yet, she would gladly drink that awful black tea over and over again if it meant avoiding Count Roden. Vanessa slowly set her teacup back on its saucer.
“When should we drop the formal titles?”
“…Pardon?”
“We are to be married this autumn, are we not? We cannot go on treating each other like strangers forever.”
The question was an ironic reminder of her situation. If they were a normal engaged couple, such a question wouldn't have been necessary. They would have naturally started calling each other by their names, gradually closing the distance between them.
If only she weren’t being sold off like cattle.
“I would prefer… after the wedding.”
“I suppose so. Calling each other by name before the wedding is a rather frivolous trend anyway.”
Count Roden smiled, baring his yellow teeth as if pleased with her answer. Vanessa bit her lip, swallowing the nausea that rose in her throat. There were countless miserable marriages in the world. She was certainly not the first woman in history to be sold to an older man. Perhaps, as Rosalyn had said, enduring it was the closest thing to a right answer—but she simply could not bring herself to do it.
“When the day comes for you to marry, I will pass this necklace down to you.”
The memory was still vivid when she closed her eyes. The young girl who was curious about her parents’ first meeting, the warmth of being held as tightly as if she were the most precious treasure in the world.
“Mom, are you happy you married Dad, of all people?”
“You shouldn’t say ‘of all people’ like that. And of course, I couldn’t be happier.”
“I don’t want to get married. Boys are all stupid. They just tease me all the time.”
“You just have to meet someone kind. To do that, you must learn how to recognize a good person.”
“What if I can’t recognize them? What if there’s no one like that in the world?”
The soft touch of their noses brushing together, and the sound of laughter.
“Then you can just live here with me forever.”
In those days, she had been such a cherished daughter. What she had to protect, even at the cost of her own honor, was the Vanessa of that day—not the Vanessa of today.
Clink. The sound of a teacup being set down snapped her back to reality. Count Roden pulled a pocket watch from his coat and frowned.
“Your uncle is taking quite a while.”
Vanessa flushed. No matter how uncomfortable he made her, it was incredibly rude to lose herself in thought right in front of him.
“I will go and look for my uncle.”
“Stay where you are. You are the reason for my visit today, after all.”
“What do you mean?”
“I had intended to take things slowly, but it seems I am short on time. I must return to Linden by evening.”
After checking his pocket watch again, Count Roden whispered something into Butler Harold’s ear. Harold stepped out briefly and returned with a gypsy woman. She was an old woman carrying an iron-tipped cane, dragging a paralyzed leg behind her.
“This is…”
“Madame Luther. She is a well-known expert in these matters.”
The old woman’s loose, flowing clothes carried the stale scent of unwashed fabric. Approaching the sofa, she bowed politely. Her demeanor was impressive; unlike a typical gypsy, she refused to grovel before nobility. Vanessa shifted her gaze from the old woman to Count Roden.
“What do you mean, ‘these matters’?”
“Did Lord Somerset not mention it? I thought the matter had already been settled.”
“Nothing…”
Count Roden sighed as if he had a headache. For a fleeting moment, a look crossed his face that reminded her of Wyatt trying to stomach cheap whiskey, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared.
“This is a necessary procedure for a marriage between people of our standing. It is for the sake of marital fidelity and the future heir of the family.”
Vanessa slowly steadied her breath, which had instantly grown hot and ragged.
“You mean you require proof of my purity.”
“I’m glad we’ve come to an understanding so quickly.”
Count Roden leaned back deeply into his chair, a subtle, enigmatic smile on his face.
“It is best to be thorough about these things. After all, I paid your uncle a very handsome price.”
Marital fidelity and purity. The moment those words left his mouth, her nausea intensified. His infatuation with a young actress from the Linden Grand Theater was common knowledge, splashed across even the cheapest gossip rags.
Of course, she had thought this day might come, but she had naively assumed it would at least be after River Ross was safe. When he was far beyond the reach of her uncle and Count Roden—perhaps in the middle of the ocean…
Normally, this sort of thing was a barbaric ritual reserved for the wedding night.
“What you are saying sounds rather insulting.”
“You attended a boarding school, I believe.”
“Is there some issue with that?”
“To think nothing would happen when hot-blooded young men and women are confined to the same space… I am not that naive.”
Vanessa stood up abruptly, her face turning deathly pale.
“If you have doubts, then call off the engagement. My uncle will respect your decision.”
“Sit down, Vanessa.”
The amiable smile vanished from his face.
“Shut up, sit down, and spread your fucking legs in front of that woman.”
The sheer vulgarity, unlike anything she had ever heard, left her stunned. Her eyelids burned as if hot coals had been pressed against them. She couldn't believe this was the horrific man she was bound to marry.
She tried desperately to calm her breathing, but despite her efforts, something warm dripped down her trembling cheek. She wiped it away reflexively, only to realize it was a tear. She had been crying without even knowing it.
“Oh, dear.”
Count Roden’s hypocritical mask slipped back into place as he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket.
“See? We could have resolved this easily through conversation from the start…”
Vanessa flinched instinctively as he reached toward her. She didn’t know why stories of wife-beating husbands flashed through her mind the moment he drew near. Satisfied by her frightened reaction, the man’s expression relaxed.
“Now, now. Don’t cry. I forgot that you are still young and have a childish side to you.”
“Forgive me, Count, but my method is different.”
It was then that the old woman, who had been standing as still as a statue, spoke up.
“Spreading one’s legs and peering inside is not the method I use. Doctors would be far better suited for that. You need only offer me your arm.”
“…Is that truly all?”
“Ah, I see.”
Count Roden smiled as if he finally understood.
“Now I see why respectable ladies speak so highly of Madame Luther. Indeed, demanding a gently bred lady to spread her legs out of the blue is rather ungentlemanly…”
The Count, who had been watching their exchange with amusement, curled his lip into a crooked smirk. Only then did she realize. His behavior was no different from someone poking a frog just to see it jump. From the very beginning, he hadn't wanted the old woman's proof—he'd wanted her reaction.
“For such pleasures should rightfully be enjoyed by the husband on the wedding night.”
“What do I do with my arm?”
Vanessa turned her head toward Madame Luther, cutting off his nonsense. As she extended her arm, the old woman snatched her wrist as if she had been waiting.
“I will place a drop of water mixed with holy water and the blood of a young lamb onto your wrist, my lady. The lamb used for this is a young sacrificial offering, less than three months old, knowing nothing of evil, and raised only on grass touched by the first dew of dawn.”
“……”
“If your body is chaste and untouched by a man, the droplet of blood will remain perfectly beaded. If you are unchaste, the droplet will fail to form and will run down your skin.”
The moment the old woman finished speaking, her claw-like fingers dug into Vanessa’s wrist.