Chapter 20
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 20
Chapter Title: Dia Hates Ganeghan (3)
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Sunny weather. And yet, winter had settled over the corridors of the Menesil Family manor.
The source of that winter was Dia de Menesil. Neither Alfred nor Hildia had the resilience to withstand its chill.
In the end, Alfred, realizing the gravity of the situation, took Hildia and withdrew first.
"Understood. Then I'll inform Lady Abera."
Alfred's parting words before leaving. Dia offered no reply.
It wasn't that she didn't know what to say or simply didn't want to.
Emptiness.
An untimely void had gripped her, intensely so.
The scorching emotions that had seemed ready to explode within her sank away in an instant, leaving nothing but futility.
She'd thought venting her anger on Hildia and Alfred might improve her mood, but it hadn't.
Nothing changed with this.
That realization bred the emptiness.
"...Do whatever. Get out."
That was the best Dia could muster.
With those words spat out, Dia quietly returned to her room.
It hadn't taken much time to get back. As always, the room was silent.
It was the room she'd always lived in, yet it felt like a house no one inhabited.
The only trace of humanity might have been the cleaning she'd done earlier.
Inhaling deeply, the faint dust pricking her palate felt especially acrid today.
The room was too big. A place where she couldn't do anything anyway. A tiny room with just enough space for a bed would have sufficed.
The vast emptiness without anything in it only deepened Dia's melancholy.
It made her feel so small in such a huge space.
A room she could never fill alone, and no one ever came. No one longed to see Dia, nor did she particularly long for anyone.
The heart might be an abstract concept of emotions, but hers probably looked just like this room. The thought crossed her mind suddenly.
"I've never needed anything but drugs anyway."
In the center of the hollow room, she murmured quietly.
But there was no need to throw a tantrum demanding drugs just yet.
She'd just smashed all the porcelain her sister cherished so much, and her sister would come looking soon enough.
As always, her sister would have a syringe in hand. So the time granted to Dia now was a small freedom, or perhaps a stay of execution.
Just handle it yourself now. Whatever happens, happens.
No matter what her sister did—even if it killed Ganeghan—she wouldn't care. If she saw him again, she'd chase him out just as her sister wished.
That way, she'd get her drugs again.
That should be enough. No, that was all she deserved from the start.
Then she glanced sideways. Toward the top of the bed.
There lay the childhood photo she'd placed there earlier, still pristine on the bed.
What had she been thinking back then? She didn't want to recall. Her hand left bloody fingerprints on the photo as she touched it.
Come to think of it, the cut on her wrist still oozed droplets of blood.
"I want to die."
And kill.
Myself.
Muttering that, she plunged the knife into the face in the photo—stab, stab.
Her arm jerked violently, blood splattering onto the picture, tearing the face apart. It looked just like blood flowing from the photo's face.
"Die. Let's die. Yeah."
Dia kept stabbing relentlessly, even gouging into the mattress.
The bed wasn't as comfortable as usual, and amid that unease, Abera opened her eyes.
Sure enough, the surroundings felt unfamiliar. But the dissonance wasn't just from the scenery.
Ganeghan right in front of her, the lack of morning sunlight typical of early wake-ups. And finally... even her clothes.
In that moment, memories flooded the Lady's mind. What she'd done right before falling asleep.
"Th-that, that...!"
Abera nearly uttered a vulgar word fit only for commoners. She bolted upright in bed.
Her breasts swayed heavily. She was completely naked.
Eek!
Letting out a scream-like shriek, Abera covered her body with both arms as best she could.
"You're awake."
"N-no! I mean...! Right now!"
She tried to blame Ganeghan but couldn't bring herself to say it.
She clearly remembered choosing this situation herself.
I must be crazy. Abera repeated it inwardly a hundred times over. She was undoubtedly insane. Utterly mad.
Why had she done it? Even she didn't know.
Abera was the eldest daughter of the Menesil Family, soon to inherit and become the family itself.
She had endless money, and if it was mere lust, she could have satisfied it alone.
So why? At the time, it felt like she was bewitched—only Ganeghan would do—swept away by impulse.
Why, why? She couldn't find an answer. Just then, Ganeghan quietly handed her her dress.
"You'll need to wear this."
"I-I know!"
A Lady never shows her emotions.
More precisely, there are emotions to show and those to hide.
The same went for appearances. Some to display, some to conceal.
She'd never once shown such flustered panic to anyone since becoming an adult. She was Abera de Menesil, after all.
Yet now she was flailing about pathetically.
She couldn't help it in this situation. Naked in front of an outsider—what a disgrace.
Abera snatched the dress and threw it on frantically.
"Ah, ugh...!"
Haste and shame conspired to disastrous effect.
Her arms and legs kept tangling as she shoved them in, and forcing it tore part of the dress.
Still, she had to cover up fast. She roughly donned it and fumbled for the zipper.
But someone else's hand zipped it up smoothly. Ganeghan again.
"Hoo!"
Having a man whose body she'd given herself to zip her up was mortifying, but Abera let out a sigh of relief.
The basics were done.
Now she needed to choose her actions carefully. Escape this place immediately? Or handle the rest?
But she couldn't bear staying longer in this site of her 'black history.' A bit more and her head might explode from shame.
So Abera scurried toward the door. She nearly bolted out but stopped and whirled around.
Leaving like this would cause bigger problems.
She had to make it crystal clear. Absolutely, unequivocally so.
Ahem. Clearing her throat and steadying her voice to its usual tone, Abera spoke.
"Touching my body..."
But her words couldn't finish.
"It was treatment. At your request, Lady."
"Even so! Something..."
"Anyway, as promised, I'll leave the manor now. Don't worry about the treatment—I'm not one to share patient matters."
Leaving on his own? Keeping the secret? This easily?
Abera nearly tilted her head.
It was good if her shameful actions could be buried so simply...
But something felt off.
No one knows oneself better than oneself. Her usual life showed exactly how she behaved.
Acting so entranced, so out of character—it was unbearable.
Maybe something was wrong with the drugs. She wasn't so foolish as to overlook that.
And she was angry. Fury burned clearly in her heart.
Daring to make her show such a sight before the other servants? Dismissing it as her falling for him was too much to swallow.
Suspicious. Doubtful. How to confirm?
Asbidal!
Abera finally recalled the name.
The plague physician who secretly supplied her drugs through backroom deals.
Asbidal was an absurdly skilled doctor. His only flaw was being an object of fear.
I'll ask Asbidal. Abera thought.
Analyze the drugs—if something odd shows up, she'd tear him apart in rage. If they were truly just supplements, then...
Then really...
...Do I actually like this man? Is that it?
And it'll take at least three days for Asbidal to arrive...
So just keep Ganeghan here until then.
Ahem. Abera cleared her throat again.
"No! Um, stay in the manor for now. Er... Dia's treatment too!"
"Didn't you say you were worried I'd get hurt by Young Lady Dia?"
"I'll make sure to warn Dia firmly. Trust me."
"But I'm already prepared to leave."
Abera’s voice took on a hint of anger.
"...After seeing me naked, you're in no position to decide to leave on your own, got it? Who do you think I am?"
"I'm just a doctor with nothing. You're a Lady."
"Yes. Exactly. So if you've touched my body and seen it, cooperate quietly on this. Just a little... understand?"
Know your place. She wanted to say it but held back to preserve her dignity as a Lady.
This should be threat enough. But instead, Ganeghan's expression turned icy.
"As I said, I have nothing."
"Yes. I heard you the first time."
"I mean I have nothing to lose, Young Lady."
"...What?"
"Showing me your naked body and giving me yours—is far more of a loss for you, no? I don't mind. The only thing I have is my life—if you demand it as payment, take it. But you..."
Ganeghan blinked, his gaze cold. He continued.
"You have so much more than just your life. Money, connections, name, honor, family."
"Wh-what's with the attitude all of a sudden...? What do you want then! I'm offering fair pay to stay! Isn't this a golden opportunity for someone without money?"
Abera's eyes shook violently.
"Whether it's golden, I don't know. And don't panic so much. I'll stay in the manor. But about fair compensation—I'll tell you now."
"How much... do you plan to demand...?"
Astronomical sums flashed through her mind.
Using her body as leverage for outrageous pay? Better to kill him and eliminate the problem—cheaper than covering up a death.
The cost to bury a murder was immense, but maybe still less.
As Abera calculated frantically,
"Diet is crucial for patients. Let me dine with Young Lady Dia from now on. And once-a-day treatment is too infrequent. Allow me three visits to her room daily. If needed, short outings together too."
That was all Ganeghan demanded.
"Huh...?"
Just that?
Abera murmured unwittingly, tilting her head.
Then suddenly, frantic knocking—bang bang bang.
"Young Lady! Lady Abera!"
It was Alfred's voice.