Chapter 14
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 14
Chapter Title: Taming the Fake Lady (2)
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It was a rather refreshing morning.
At least, it certainly felt that way to Abera. She'd essentially been forced to stay up from dawn until the sun rose, but if the end result was chasing Ganeghan out of the house, then anything was fine.
"Will the same arm as last time do?"
She slyly rolled up her sleeve and flashed a smile at Ganeghan, who was drawing the drug into the syringe right in front of her.
Once this was over, Ganeghan would leave the mansion.
Why was that?
After failing to poison him due to Dia's unexpected interference, she no longer felt any particular urge to kill Ganeghan.
Well, even now, he was leaving of his own accord—what reason would there be to kill him?
He was strangely harmless. Incredibly so. A man who never once ruffled Abera's feathers.
If he weren't Dia's personal physician but someone she'd met under different circumstances, could they have had some other kind of relationship? Abera caught herself thinking that before shaking her head firmly.
Sharp eyes, sleek jawline. And every word he spoke carried some subtle nuance in his actions. But right now, she had to prioritize the inheritance above all else.
Yes, the inheritance. That fundamental goal had to remain her top priority until it was secured.
"Yes. Then, if I may."
Ganeghan replied calmly and gently wiped down the Lady's arm with alcohol-soaked cotton.
Now, the syringe needle would pierce the Lady's arm.
It was strange. For Abera, who pursued perfection in everything, to so readily offer her arm to another.
But this stemmed from a kind of confidence.
'I'm flawless. And irresistible.'
She'd deliberately shared plenty of skinship with Ganeghan.
Whether he understood her intentions or not—nay, if he was even deluding himself into something more—that only worked in Abera's favor.
He's probably fallen for me by now.
The Lady simply assumed as much and left it at that. She was convinced no one could do her harm, not even herself.
The only thing nagging at her was that Ganeghan didn't seem the least bit frustrated or desperate.
'He's different from other men.'
When Abera took the initiative to approach. Men's reactions were always predictably similar.
They'd be absurdly thrilled at first, then later fall into the smug delusion that it was because they were somehow worthy of her company.
And before long, if Abera seemed even slightly distant, they'd do anything—liver and gall included—to possess her, desperate not to lose the relationship.
Any man should act that way. But Ganeghan?
He must just have a lot of patience. He couldn't possibly be uninterested in her.
This was a matter tied directly to the Lady's pride, so it quietly gnawed at her.
"It stings about the same as last time."
"Yes."
The drug flowed into her body through the syringe needle.
She understood it was happening from the pressure on the syringe, but there was no particular sensation.
She'd heard most harmful drugs caused an immediate sense of wrongness upon injection, so this lack of discomfort eased Abera's mind a little.
"All done. I'd love to leave you with a bunch of doses, but as you know, hand-manufactured drugs can only be administered by the physician who made them."
The expressionless doctor detached the needle, pocketed it, and packed the syringe barrel into his bag.
"That's true. Thinking I won't see you anymore makes me a bit sad. What if I start missing you, Mr. Ganeghan?"
"It's best if that doesn't happen. Most patients start missing their doctor after they become patients."
"Come on, what if I want another dose of this drug? I just got one without even being a patient."
"It's not that potent. Honestly, it's barely a drug—whether you take it or not makes little difference."
With a click, Ganeghan's bag locked shut. Abera, undeterred, held up her arm.
"Is that so? Then maybe I only feel the effect because you administered it?"
"You're too kind."
Ganeghan began to rise from his seat.
Shortly after the Lady angled her arm downward under the desk, she casually placed something on top of it.
It was a pouch stuffed full of money.
"A thousand silva."
"...That's too much."
"Perfect, then. That's exactly the amount I wanted to give—enough to feel excessive."
It was certainly no small sum.
Even at the priciest restaurants outside, a meal rarely cost more than ten silva.
The doctor eyed it thoughtfully for a moment before readily accepting.
"If that's the Lady's wish, I'll gratefully accept."
"Thank you so much."
See? Ganeghan really was different. Unnervingly so.
Abera smiled brightly, but inwardly, she scowled.
'It's not that he likes the money—he's taking it because he knows I'd be more uncomfortable if he refused.'
That thought left her oddly irritated.
No, enough of that.
Dwelling on the man about to leave the mansion would only complicate her own head.
Besides, the drug's effects seemed to be kicking in already.
The doctor claimed it had no effect, but no—this drug definitely worked. Abera could already feel her body lightening somewhere deep within.
"Oh, right. Lady, could I ask one small favor?"
"Of course. Make yourself at home."
Ganeghan suddenly glanced back over his shoulder. Her condition had improved, after all. Abera replied cheerfully.
"It's just that I pulled an all-nighter, so I'm exhausted right now. I know it's rude, but could I nap for a bit before heading out?"
Even his final request was something so trivial. Abera couldn't help but chuckle.
"Yes, of course. Sleep as long as you need until the fatigue's gone. I can even have a meal prepared if you'd like."
"No, that's fine. Just a quick nap, then I'll be off."
Watching Ganeghan's indifferent retreating figure as he left her room, Abera thought, Well, at least one problem's solved.
"Yaaawn..."
Hildia, the maid dusting the picture frames lining the hallway, was yawning.
Her duty was to rise early in the morning and bustle through cleaning, laundry, and every other mansion chore alongside the other maids.
She didn't particularly mind the work, but fatigue was fatigue.
And it was around then.
The sharp clack of shoes striking the hallway floor rang out.
Too late. I just finished cleaning this corridor. Thinking it must be another maid, she turned her head.
'Ah, Lady Abera?!'
Striding down the hall wasn't another maid—it was Abera, wearing an incredibly unsteady expression.
An unbelievable sight. Abera walking with such brisk strides? What on earth had displeased her?
"I-I cleaned it spotless!!!"
As the distance closed, Hildia blurted it out involuntarily.
But Abera merely glanced her way, then brushed past.
She stopped at a room a bit further down, where the guest was sleeping.
The mansion's sole guest at present. Ganeghan's room.
"Ga-Ganeghan!"
Abera began pounding on the door with a bang bang bang, calling the guest's name in a shrill, trembling voice.
Hildia froze at the absurd scene, and soon other maids gathered in the hallway in small groups.
Abera stopped only when Alfred came rushing up. Huffing, she finally ceased her furious knocking.
"Young Lady! What's wrong?"
"Th-that bastard definitely injected me with some weird drug!"
"Weird drug...?"
The maids' and Alfred's faces hardened in an instant.
It was the natural reaction. The mansion had the horrific precedent of Dia, utterly ruined by drugs.
"Young Lady! Is that true?"
Alfred urgently began checking Abera's condition. She certainly didn't look normal—her face and pale skin were flushed entirely pink.
"Oh no. Oh no." The maids frantically covered their mouths with their hands.
"It's not just a fever! My whole body's acting strange!"
"Young Lady! Please wait just a moment! We'll figure something out! Forgive the impropriety of touching you this time...?"
Alfred's expression went blank as he pressed his hand to Abera's forehead.
Has it gotten worse? The maids' breathing quickened.
"Um... Young Lady?"
Alfred touched her forehead a few more times, then wiped sweat from his own brow with his sleeve.
"No... fever?"
The words had barely left his mouth when Hildia dashed over.
She tossed her dust cloth to the floor and hastily checked Abera's forehead herself.
A moment later, she tilted her head.
"Hm...?"
Hildia and Alfred's eyes met in midair, both tilting their heads again before turning to Abera in unison.
"There's... really no fever?"
"Th-that can't be?"
The flustered Lady touched her own forehead a couple of times.
A slight cold sweat beaded there. There was a bit of reason for her to think something was off.
And right then, the door she'd pounded on so fiercely creaked open.
A man with sharp eyes, looking somewhat fatigued, ran a hand through his tousled hair and muttered lowly.
"...What's going on? Is there a patient?"
All eyes turned unmistakably toward Abera.