Unraveling the Family Curse
"Tell me. I'll listen."
"The Bayern family illness... is a lung disease of unknown origin."
This sudden affliction traced back several generations.
In the past, it was thought to be a curse, and the family would have many children, with the survivor inheriting the estate.
Even now, with advancements in science and medicine, it's recognized as a lung disease—but there's still no cure.
They consulted doctors, alchemists, even witches, but nothing worked.
"It rarely manifests in the collateral lines. But it hit the direct line hard."
"I see."
"I was fortunate enough not to develop it. But Seranna was frail from childhood. After giving birth, she grew even weaker."
"Did Seranna live here continuously?"
Ibel carefully organized the information in her mind.
By process of elimination, she could surely pinpoint why Victor was unaffected while Seranna had suffered.
"Seranna never once left the estate. She was always here. I, on the other hand, started wandering various regions with my father around age ten."
"So even as children, did the two of you... keep the curtains tightly drawn and the windows shut?"
"That's my understanding."
"And your grandparents' generation too?"
Ah, I need something to write with.
Ibel stood as she asked, fetching a fountain pen and notebook, which she opened.
She had already suspected a lung disease, so the environment needed immediate changes.
"They probably did, given the strong belief in a curse. The odd part is that Seranna's husband died of illness too."
Then is it really a 'family' illness?
"First things first: In modern medicine, ventilation is key for lung diseases. Tear down those ugly curtains and fling the windows wide open. For places that absolutely need curtains, replace them with thin ones and wash them every two weeks—no exceptions."
"Understood."
"And I've been dying to say this... prepare several ladders. The lambrequins in the corners, gaps in the stone, between statues...! We're scrubbing every bit of mold that grows there."
Drugs could wait—fixing the environment came first.
Then, a thorough check on the boys' conditions.
"I heard Anselm coughs. What about Damian?"
"As far as I know, Damian is fine."
"Fine?"
Not from what I've seen.
But I haven't properly examined him yet, so I'll set that aside for now.
She'd heard the family physician had changed three times because they couldn't handle the boys' ferocity. No proper records then—it was back to square one.
"And Ibel, I must ask you to honor this: I don't want the boys knowing about the family illness."
"You don't want them living in fear needlessly."
"Exactly. If the house is the issue, I considered boarding school for Anselm at least, but symptoms appeared before he was old enough. And as you'll see, Damian can't go to school."
"Plus, separating the twins would be another problem. I hear they're incredibly close."
The tasks ahead were starting to take shape.
Truth be told, there was no cure for lung disease. Many internists researched it, but no real solution existed.
It was regrettable.
"The capital has plenty of people with coughs from nearby factories. But all we can prescribe is painkillers and rest—that's the reality."
"I see."
"Honestly, I don't know if I can surpass the limits of medicine. But I'll do my utmost."
"I appreciate it."
Scratch, scratch.
Ibel, jotting notes, wrote the words woman and man, then asked,
"Your aunt shows no symptoms either, right?"
"Yes. For reference, she entered a convent around age ten. After Seranna passed, she came to the estate under the pretext of looking after the boys."
Not just men, then. There must be some other common factor.
Reviewing her thoughts, Ibel circled back to Damian.
"Does Damian spend a lot of time outdoors too?"
"So I've been told. Right after Seranna died, he vanished into the woods for two days, and it became a habit. He's so energetic, it's hard to keep him indoors."
"Whereas Anselm spends most of his time inside the mansion?"
"That's right too. He loves books and learning, so he's holed up in the library most days."
Twins—one afflicted, one not.
Their lifestyles differed greatly.
In my view, this house is the problem.
Was it the house itself?
Or the house's environment?
She'd have to eliminate possibilities one by one.
"With Banya to help me, I feel much more secure."
Finishing her mental, Ibel smiled.
"I need a list of longtime mansion staff, especially those who live here. And a list of anyone who's had the coughing illness."
"I'll call Banya now."
Soon, Victor summoned Banya and the butler.
With them before her, Ibel explained calmly, then made her requests.
"I'd like to inspect the servants' quarters tomorrow afternoon—let everyone know."
"Understood. The servants' dorms are in a separate building near the annex."
The butler explained politely, showing her a mansion map.
Looking at it like this, it really is grand.
Three annexes behind the main mansion. Servants' quarters divided by gender. One disused knights' barracks from long ago, unfit for modern times. Grain storage on east and west sides.
Tongue-tied by the Bayern wealth, Ibel studied the map closely.
After an already enjoyable time with just that, Ibel descended to the first floor to receive the servants' greetings.
By protocol, it should have been after the wedding feast, but since Ibel wanted to seize household authority as quickly as possible, Victor had ordered it early.
No one in Bayern would defy the family head.
"Greetings again, future Madam!"
"Greetings again, future Madam...!"
As she descended the spiral staircase slowly, the orderly gathered servants bowed in unison.
It was... well.
More real, somehow, than she'd imagined.
That she had become Victor's wife.
Even if it was just a few years' contract position.
"What?! Is that true?!"
That night, Genevieve returned from her outing and flew into a rage upon hearing the day's report from her favorite maid.
"She got bitten by Damian but handled it coolly, leaving a good impression?"
"Y-yes."
"Hah, what a piece of work. A kid herself, and she knows how to handle children? Makes you wonder if she's popped one out already."
In truth, Genevieve was already in a foul mood. Hearing the servants call Ibel 'future Madam' only twisted the knife further.
"I thought she'd run tail at the sight of Damian..."
She muttered lowly, fanning herself; the maid swiftly fetched a fan.
"This is my house. How much have I poured into it with my own hands! And Victor doesn't even appreciate it. Fine, whatever. But now he expects me to play backseat granny? No. Absolutely not."
How much she'd suffered raising Seranna's bloody lumps.
Victor never acknowledged it, but Genevieve had put in her own efforts.
Breaking their spirits through discipline and beatings.
"Not even a nod to my contributions, and now he drags in a wife overnight. 'Future Madam' just like that!"
Genevieve was genuinely hurt.
The wife of Eberstein she'd met today was problem one.
"I'll handle things with my daughter myself, so don't worry."