Chapter 7
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 7
Chapter Title: Fake Lady, Real Lady. ()
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“Ah.”
The door to Abera’s room swung open, and that was the first word out of my mouth.
I’d only heard Alfred’s voice up until then, so naturally I assumed he was alone. But when the door opened, there were two people in view.
One was Alfred. The other was Dia de Menesil.
So without thinking, that’s the idiotic exclamation that escaped me. It wasn’t like running into Dia again wouldn’t feel awkward.
And how could it not? The last time I’d seen her, I’d tricked her and knocked her out with sleeping pills.
“Oh my. Dia. You must have been starving.”
Thankfully, Abera spoke up first, cutting through the awkwardness. But how did Dia respond to such a warm greeting?
“...I don’t like it.”
A sharp, prickly single word stabbed right at me like a dart. Her needle-like gaze pierced straight through.
But Abera had no idea what had gone down between Dia and me. She stepped forward, blocking the space between us.
“What’s to dislike already? Come on, Dia.”
“...I don’t like him. Not eating with him.”
“Oh? So you heard our whole conversation?”
“Don’t like it. Don’t like it... Not with him.”
Dia’s responses left Alfred looking awkwardly caught in the middle. A brief silence hung in the air.
Abera broke it. As Dia tried to push past her toward me, Abera blocked her with a long arm.
It was possible because of their height difference. As I’d mentioned before, Abera was far more slender and tall than Dia.
“Dia. Act like a proper lady.”
“...Move. Makes me sick. Send him away. Not eating with him.”
“Watch what you say. Lady Dia.”
Abera’s tone carried a slight edge.
Dia let out a small “Eek...” and flinched to a halt. After a moment, she bit her lip and took a step back.
Abera still looked perfectly composed. Dia was the only one on edge.
“...Just eat quick and get lost.”
With cold, downcast eyes, that’s all Dia said.
Abera spun gracefully in her signature elegant motion and smiled at me on Dia’s behalf.
“Sorry about that. My little sister isn’t used to minding her manners yet.”
“It’s fine. And as I said, eating separately works for me too. I’d rather just...”
“No.”
This time, Abera approached me instead of Dia. She fixed me with resolute eyes and continued.
“As I told you. We’re eating together.”
Now it was my turn to be baffled. What was going on here?
Dia resenting me was only natural, of course.
I hadn’t given her the drug she craved—Sao—instead pretending to and slipping her sleeping pills.
She didn’t get her Sao shot and was forced into a nap. Of course she hated me. And I’d even laid hands on her body.
Refusing to eat with me was par for the course.
No, I was practically grateful she’d only said that much. At least she hadn’t tattled right away.
What puzzled me was Abera. Why?
She wouldn’t hate me. She might even harbor a bit of fondness. I’d injected her with the drug she wanted, and my responses in our talks had pleased her.
But before all that, Dia was her one and only sister. Only affection thicker than blood could override family ties.
I’d known Abera less than a day. With her sister reacting like this, excluding me from the meal made the most sense. So why was she so insistent on dragging me along?
Was it about the drug dependency? No way.
I shook my head in disbelief at the absurdity.
The dependency stat was a measly three. She wouldn’t put up with this hassle just for that.
“Miss, I’m worried the food will get cold.”
Alfred’s interjection, sweat beading on his forehead.
And with that, our perilous dinner began.
As we reached the end of the corridor, the maids swung open the dining room doors as if they’d been waiting.
A lavish spread covered the grand table—food that looked delicious and upscale at a glance. Candles even flickered to set the mood.
So this was what a lady’s meal felt like. I couldn’t help nodding to myself.
Following Abera inside, the head chef and servants bowed deeply. I knew it was for her, but it still felt like I’d become nobility myself.
Living with all this as a given. I envied the lady’s life a little... and didn’t, at the same time.
Alfred pulled out chairs for Dia and Abera. I reached for mine, but Abera’s delicate hand gently drew it out for me.
“Ah, thank you.”
I’d only come as personal physician. Having her fuss over me in front of all these servants was a bit overwhelming, but I didn’t let it show.
As I sat, Abera smiled, took her seat, and picked up her fork and knife.
All that remained, as always, was Dia.
“Dia. What’s bothering you now?”
Dia just stood there, glaring at me sullenly.
Abera sighed heavily. Then she took the initiative, slicing her steak and showing it off to me.
“Don’t mind her. Dig in, Mr. Ganeghan.”
I hesitated a moment.
“Come on. It’s hard enough coaxing Dia. Do I have to coax you too? That might really upset me.”
Fair enough.
Dia’s sharp glare still stung, but I decided to follow Abera’s lead. I picked up my knife and fork and started cutting my steak.
It was around the time I speared a perfectly bite-sized piece.
“...Don’t eat it.”
“Hm?”
Dia’s mutter. My head turned toward her involuntarily.
“Don’t eat it! You idiot! You filthy worm!”
A loud thud shook the massive table. Dia had kicked one of its legs.
Sauce from the plates splattered everywhere—on Abera’s clothes, mine, and Dia’s too.
But Dia didn’t stop. Eyes flashing, she charged and swept every plate off the table in front of me.
The dishes, shoved into the unsupported air, met a simple fate. A chorus of shattering glass rang out as food mingled with shards on the floor.
What didn’t hit the floor clung to me instead. My pristine coat and suit soaked up the mess in seconds.
“Haa...”
Dia, what’s gotten into you?
Abera muttered that, took a sip of wine, and moistened her throat. For witnessing Dia’s rampage, it was remarkably calm.
She set down her glass and stood.
“Dia.”
Calling her sister’s name.
But Dia seemed not to hear. She snatched a fork from the floor and aimed it at my throat, eyes bulging.
“Don’t you dare get even a scrap here! Answer me! Get out! Get lost!”
A scream like a howl. Did she hate me that much? Anyway, I had no appetite in this atmosphere.
I nodded vaguely.
“Get out! I said get lost!”
Unable to contain her rage, Dia swung the fork-arm at me.
But there was only a dull thwack. Abera had seized her wrist.
“Dia de Menesil.”
Abera called her name again.
Only then did their eyes meet in midair. Abera’s lips still smiled, but her eyes didn’t.
“Let’s talk alone in your room before bed.”
A look only Dia would understand. Her fingertips trembled faintly at it.
“H-Hic...”
Moments later, a clink—Dia dropped the fork.
“No... Nooo... I said nooo!!!”
Clutching her head, she shook it wildly, then bolted from the dining room the second she broke free of Abera’s grip.
Alfred quietly followed. Abera came to me instead.
“...Mr. Ganeghan. You okay?”
“Yes. Just a handkerchief, if you have one.”
“No worries there.”
Abera rummaged in her bosom and handed over a fine, ladylike handkerchief. She flashed a bright smile as I took it.
“Now we’ve traded handkerchiefs.”
“It’s hardly an even exchange. I feel bad.”
“You always know what to say. You sure you’re not a bard instead of a doctor?”
I took a steadying breath and gently took Abera’s hand. She was a lady, after all. She’d barely managed to grab Dia’s arm, but it couldn’t have been a flawless move.
No guarantee of side effects.
Sure enough, her palm bore a long gash from the fork’s sharp tines. She hadn’t noticed yet, but it’d sting later.
But as I held her hand, I froze.
[Drug: Deadrin]
The words floated up from the fallen steak.
Deadrin was a deadly poison used to kill. The very drug Alfred had wanted in Dia’s veins.
Why on my steak?
Someone had deliberately laced it. Steak didn’t naturally contain that.
Who? Dia? But then why flip the table? Alfred, resentful I hadn’t killed her? The chef?
Or... no way.
“Mr. Ganeghan...?”
Abera’s puzzled question snapped me back.
“Ah, yes.”
I hid my fluster and carefully wrapped the handkerchief around her hand. My mind still raced.
“That’ll do. Disinfect it after your bath.”
“Wait, weren’t you asking for the handkerchief to clean your clothes...?”
“The clothes need cleaning too. But not with your handkerchief.”
Abera blinked blankly, then nodded sheepishly.
“...You always know what to say.”
Her cheeks seemed a touch flushed.
After tossing and turning in bed, I finally stepped into the corridor.
The first night since possessing Lady Overdose. Not my house, not my body.
And my steak had been laced with deadly poison. Sleep? Yeah right. Looked like another sleepless night.
Passing by to wet my throat, I sensed movement and stopped short.
No real reason to, but that ominous hunch kicked in. Something felt off.
Or maybe because Dia’s door was right there—the one who’d glared daggers trying to chase me off. Thinking of her soured my mood.
Hard to ignore. Her actions were baffling.
And someone else was already standing at her door.
...Abera?
It was definitely her. Holding something in her hand.
Right, they were gonna talk alone in her room.
Recalling that cleared up why she was there.
Abera quietly opened the door and slipped inside like a snake. Such cautious movements—no sound at all. Eerily so.
Whatever. Time for that drink.
I started walking again, but stopped dead soon after.
[Drug Information: Sao]
The message popped up out of nowhere.
“Wait.”
I flinched back involuntarily.
Too late—I’d realized what Abera had been holding.
“No... no. Wait a second.”
Impossible. Doubting my memory and eyes, I rubbed my temple.
But the message pointed straight at Dia’s room.
“...No way?”
Probably. No, definitely.
Abera had entered Dia’s room holding Sao.