When The Count’s Illegitimate Daughter Gets Married

Unable to continue holding the man up, Laritte fell flat on her behind. Fortunately, she kept the man

from hitting his head on the floor.

Laritte stared at the face of the man in her embrace. Brushing back his hair that was darker than the

night, Laritte noticed wounds peppering his dark skin.

Suddenly, a thought came to mind.

“…What was his name?”

She knew him as the Duke, but strangely didn’t remember his name. As it was, she was never

supposed to have any chance of meeting him in this lifetime, be it in life or in death.

Laritte busily moved around the house to warm it up and soaked her handkerchief in boiling hot water.

In her home, there were two things she cherished besides her potatoes. Those two things were her

fireplace and her rocking chair. Even better was when she placed her rocking chair in front of the

fireplace.

In that spot, sitting there with a blanket covering her, Laritte was able to fall asleep without trouble

because the bed left to this house had been unmanaged and was moldy. Laritte yielded her precious

spot to this traitor because she was a generous person. The man in the chair was buried under all the

blankets in the house. To keep it stable, she placed a rock under the chair’s hind legs.

His breathing was shallow and precarious, leaving him vulnerable to death at any moment. He lost a lot

of blood and was unconscious due to his low body temperature. Laritte approached him with her

warmed and wet handkerchief.

“Maybe I won’t be the first dead body to lay in this house.”

Having spent the last seventeen years mastering her poker face, Laritte was very calm. Contrary to her

calmness, the hands that wiped the dried blood off the man’s face were quite gentle.

Since Laritte took it upon herself to treat the traitor all by herself, she could be considered criminal.

Even now, she could run to the village to report the situation, but she did not.

And it wasn’t because he was her husband.

Laritte was fed up with families. Actually, she hated men even more because of these ‘husbands’.

It was just Laritte, all alone.

“I didn’t do it.”

She was very familiar with those words.

“I didn’t steal it! I didn’t do it! Count!”

She cried in this old memory, so old that it was gradually fading..

When Laritte entered the Count’s household at the age of eight, there was actually one person who

was kind to her. Shockingly, it was her father, the Count.

Everyone’s eyes had been on Laritte when she first entered the Brumayer house, yet the Count was

the only one who did not criticize her. Laritte believed that he considered her innocent, that it was not

her fault for being born.

But that could not always be the case. He began to act against Laritte when Rose and the Countess

began targeting her. He quickly changed his mind about Laritte the more she butted heads with them.

It was when Rose intentionally ‘lost’ her necklace and accused Laritte of being the thief that the Count

raised his hand towards Laritte for the first time. And for all her birth mother had done, she’d never

dared touch Laritte’s face.

The Count struck her right in front of everyone and determined that she was guilty.

“I….”

Slap!

“No, I didn’t do it…”

The count slapped her again and Laritte, who was only a small child, was unable to speak up due to

her swollen mouth. But still, she tried to protest more while trembling.

“Nwo……I–I didn’t dwo it…”

“Dad, you don’t believe her, do you?! She’s a damn liar!” Rose let out a sharp cry. The Count nodded

his head, agreeing with her. The servants simply stood by and watched.

“You’re not allowed to leave until you cough up the necklace,” he said as he locked Laritte in the attic.

Laritte didn’t even know what Rose’s necklace looked like. She remained trapped in the attic and was

released after nearly starving to death. This instance was the start of Laritte’s life stained by injustice.

Therefore, she could not report the Duke who was oh so similar to her. It was a simple conclusion.

“……”

Laritte set down the blood stained handkerchief. Settling onto the carpet, she looked up at him.

“Don’t die,” Laritte mumbled in her unique and clear voice. She covered his hands with hers. His

tanned skin contrasted with her pale hands.

“I don’t know what you went through, but you have to live.”

So live. She spoke to him and placed her face against his knee. The fireplace warmed the man’s body,

which was colder than ice. Laritte closed her eyes.

It was dark and only the sound of the crackling fire could be heard. A girl pressed her body against him

and didn’t move an inch.

A moment ago, Ian Reinhardt woke up. He attempted to open his eyes and struggled quite a bit.

“Haa, ha…”

Ian’s breathing was uneven. The brightly lit fireplace came into his view. It was obvious that the bricks

had been piled up a long time ago, and the ancient fireplace was the only light in the whole house.

“…Hah?”

As soon as Ian realized he was sitting in a chair, he tried to get up. But when he tried to move his upper

body, he felt indescribable pain in his abdomen and wasn’t able to budge. Argh, he let out a small

groan. That area had been pierced by a sword.

At the very least, that small movement got his blood flowing. Ian squashed the creepy bugs running

about.

“I’m sorry, Captain.”

It reminded him of the memory of his subordinate stabbing him in the back. The event was still vivid in

his memory.

“I can’t help it, so don’t hate me too much.”

“That…What are you…”

“You shouldn’t have become an enemy to the Imperial family.”

The betrayal happened near the end of the maritime war that had gone on for years. As both a Duke

and a swordmaster, this betrayal came right as he was about to return home.

At that moment, he realized someone was holding his hand. When he looked down, he found a woman

who was nearly all white lying on his lap.

“……”

He seemed to have met her before while he was still conscious. He remembered calling her ‘nanny’

when he saw her hair. Looking back, this hair color was not quite the same as an old person’s.

But who was this though?

He was a traitor, considered dead to the world. Walking on a thin line, there was a chance this woman

could end up reporting him.

“…Chair.”

Laritte winced and spoke in her sleep.

“My…rocking chair.”

For a moment, he felt the chair’s pulley move. Thinking about it, he was sitting on a rocking chair. He

wanted to return it to her, but he wondered why she was sleeping on him like this. This chair wasn’t the

kind of place people can sleep comfortably.

His fingers barely twitching, Ian woke her up from her deep slumber and she opened her eyes.

“……”

“……”

They made eye-contact.

When the girl’s blue, emotionless eyes blinked, Ian caught glimpses of a fire that disappeared quickly.

Laritte raised her upper body. To her, it was already amazing that the Duke hadn’t died overnight. To be

honest, she had been expecting to find a corpse when she woke up.

‘Good job.’

Her relief changed into a calm question.

“Do you like stew?”

“…What did you just say?”

“I’m asking you if you’re well enough to eat stew.”

When she saw the man’s confused expression, she realized what was wrong.

Ah, my face.

In the past, when someone tried to provoke Laritte meaning Rose, she had to keep on her poker face.

If she cried, her tormentor would be more annoyed at her. If she begged, they would laugh at her.

Laritte learned to be emotionless, because no matter how she reacted, she would only receive

coldness in return.

After a few years of this treatment, it became difficult for Laritte to express her emotions.

‘Well, I’m hungry so I’m going to eat,’ she thought as she rose from her seat.