This was the first time I had ever seen her up close.
Back then, I had stormed out on the first day of the funeral and locked myself in my room for the rest of the mourning period, so there had been no reason for us to meet. Even if there had been, I probably would have refused. In fact, there were several opportunities afterward, but each time, I was the one who turned her away.
She was a commoner by birth. Almost nothing was known about her past. Rumors and speculation spread endlessly, yet no one knew the truth. At the time, I did not even consider commoners to be people equal to me. Though she was technically my grandmother through blood, I had never once acknowledged her as family.
I had treated her as though she did not exist at all.
Not long after the marchioness’s funeral, Count Piseon followed her into death as if chasing after her footsteps. His sudden passing shocked society. He had been an energetic and influential merchant lord, still actively engaged in business across the world.
The countess immediately became the prime suspect.
For a long time, arguments and investigations continued in an attempt to uncover the truth. The fortune Count Piseon left behind was unimaginably vast. In the end, due to insufficient evidence, she inherited everything as his lawful wife.
I vaguely remembered my nanny raging in fury, saying that all of that wealth should have gone to me instead, and that the shameless woman had stolen her master’s fortune.
At the time, I knew little about the details surrounding the incident. To the person I was then, a fragment of his attention mattered far more than mountains of gold. I had been obsessed with him. I had no interest whatsoever in the inheritance that could have become mine.
I also had no real sense of money.
As the legitimate daughter of the marquis household, I had always lived in abundance. I had never once experienced deprivation when it came to material things. The marquis withheld affection from me, but he never restricted me financially.
I had been extravagant.
Objectively speaking, perhaps not merely extravagant enough to ruin a person, but extravagant enough to shake entire cities. After becoming empress, it grew even worse. The more I thirsted for his affection, the more I tried to drown that longing in luxury. The colder he became toward me, the larger my spending grew.
There was supposedly a limit to the imperial treasury allotted for the empress each year. But I was never the sort of person who stopped simply because the limit had been reached. I squandered not only the marquis family’s wealth but also my private fortune without hesitation.
The inheritance I received from the marchioness had been considerable, yet even that wealth was not inexhaustible. The more one spent, the more it dwindled. That was simply the law of the world.
Even so, until the very moment of my death, I had never once felt lacking financially. I did not know exactly how much wealth I possessed, but somehow I doubted it should have been enough to sustain my level of excess. For the first time, I felt the need to properly understand the extent of my fortune.
“These are his hairs.”
The countess held out a small pouch toward the marquis. Without a word, he opened the lid of the box in his hands. She carefully transferred the strands of hair from the pouch into the box.
When she finished, the marquis closed the lid.
The countess bowed deeply once more.
“I do not know how to properly express my gratitude.”
“I merely did what had to be done.”
With that, he turned and entered the mausoleum. I moved to follow after him, but the countess stopped me.
“My lady, would you go see him?”
I looked up at her.
Her moist eyes still shimmered faintly with tears. She looked fragile, yet strangely captivating at the same time.
“He wanted very much to see you.”
Count Piseon was a merchant. Though the empire served as his base, his influence stretched across the entire world.
People often said, “All money eventually flows into the Piseon Merchant Guild.” His talent for commerce was extraordinary. The Piseon family had always been wealthy, but under the current count, their fortune had reached unprecedented heights.
He traveled personally across the world. In an entire year, the number of times he stayed in the imperial capital could be counted on one hand. After the marchioness lost her sanity, he stopped coming near the capital altogether.
So the idea that he longed to see me was absurd.
If he truly wished to see me, he could have come at any time. The reason he had not was simply because he chose not to.
“Why?”
Perhaps she had not expected such a response. Her eyes widened slightly.
But only for a moment.
As though nothing had happened, she quickly smoothed over her expression and smiled softly.
“Because you are his one and only blood relative, my lady.”
Her tone was strange.
Her voice was gentle and sweet, yet hidden beneath her words was something sharp enough to cut. She had always treated me kindly. Not falsely, either. I could genuinely feel goodwill from her.
That only made her words harder to understand.
Did she mean he wished to see me because we shared blood?
Or did she mean he wished to see me as blood family because I possessed some value to him?
The first implied affection born of familial ties.
The second implied utility.
Which one was it?
Slowly, my gaze dropped toward her abdomen.
Compared to her full chest, her slender waist made her appear even more delicate, especially paired with her sorrowful expression.
At the time, I had been so obsessed with him that I knew almost nothing about the people around me. Still, there were scattered memories I retained. Especially my nanny’s endless complaints—she repeated them so often that I remembered quite a lot.
My nanny despised the countess.
Whenever she had the chance, she would fill my ears with slander about her. When the count died, her hatred reached its peak. She firmly believed the countess had murdered him for his wealth and insisted the woman should be tortured until she confessed.
Back then, I had little interest in either her or the inheritance, but my nanny’s constant nagging had annoyed me enough that I gave false testimony unfavorable to the countess.
Even without solid evidence, the countess remained a suspect for so long partly because of my lies.
And because of that...
She miscarried during the investigation.
There had been no torture like my nanny wished for. Though born a commoner, the countess was still a legally recognized noblewoman. No physical abuse would have been permitted.
But even without physical violence, the psychological strain must have been unbearable.
Being accused of murder and subjected to endless interrogation was difficult enough for any normal person. For a pregnant woman, it would have been far crueler.
I remembered my nanny gleefully declaring that heaven itself had punished the woman when news of the miscarriage spread.
My finger pointed toward the countess’s still-flat stomach.
“You are no longer his only blood relative.”
Her expression froze instantly.
I did not know whether she truly murdered the count or not. Perhaps she really was the wicked woman from the rumors, coveting his fortune. Or perhaps she was merely an innocent victim crushed beneath malicious gossip.
Just like before, I did not particularly care which one was true.
Still, I wanted the child inside her to live.
According to the rumors, the child might not even belong to the count. Even so, if there was a chance to save that child, then I wanted it to survive.
It was unlike me.
Not because I had suddenly become a better person. I remained selfish, self-centered, and concerned only with my own well-being. I had never once imagined sacrificing myself for someone else’s child.
Perhaps it was merely another passing whim.
But at this moment, I did not want an unborn child to die.
Perhaps...
Perhaps it was a small fragment of guilt.
“It seems you are mistaken,” she said quietly. “His only blood relative is you, my lady.”
Her face darkened.
I could tell she was trying to hide it, but the shadow over her expression was too deep to conceal completely. There seemed to be some story connected to the child.
I had no interest in her circumstances, so I asked directly.
“Is the child not of the Piseon bloodline?”
“My lady, you go too far!”
Her lips trembled violently.
The languid, seductive atmosphere surrounding her vanished completely. The way she looked at me now was terrifying. If a gaze alone could kill, I would have died instantly from the murderous intent burning in her eyes.
Judging by her reaction, it seemed she did not yet know about the child herself.
The count had died exactly two months after the marchioness. Officially, regardless of the rumors, the cause of death had been declared natural—grief over losing his daughter.
The countess miscarried while being interrogated after the funeral had ended.
It was possible she had never even realized she was pregnant until then.
“It is not good for the child if you become too agitated.”
“My lady!”
Her clenched fists shook violently.
It was an unusually intense reaction. The count had certainly been old, but not so old that having children was impossible. Normally, most people in her situation would at least wonder, Could I be pregnant?
But the countess seemed incapable of considering the possibility at all.
I had no desire to involve myself unnecessarily, but since I had already begun, I decided a little extra effort would not hurt.
A few more words would cost me nothing.
“Whether you believe me or not is your choice. But if you do not wish to lose the child, take care of yourself. It would also be best to inform the count. Assuming the child truly is his blood.”
If a man learned he had a child, perhaps he would not willingly throw away his life.
Of course, that was assuming his death had not been murder.
“He is your grandfather.”
The countess had regained her composure with astonishing speed. She looked at me calmly, as though she had never raised her voice at all.
But there was one thing she made no effort to hide.
Her eyes blazed fiercely as they fixed on me.
“Not ‘the count.’ Your grandfather.”
...
I could understand her anger regarding the child. My remark questioning the bloodline had clearly insulted her.
But I could not understand why she was angry over the title I used for the count.
