Chapter 30

In a society where only men could inherit titles, giving birth to a daughter had little value. Regardless of personal beliefs or ideals, even to Alberto, who desired an heir, a daughter wouldn’t be a welcomed child.

Then could she take the child with her?

But Rabiana dismissed the thought. She couldn’t take the child. Even if it were a daughter, leaving her behind in this estate would be the better choice. A blind, burdensome mother would hardly be someone a child would be glad to have.

“You’re only wondering about that now?”

Unlike Rabiana, Alberto seemed to have already considered it and responded plainly.

“If it’s a daughter, then I suppose you’ll have to stay until a son is born.”

“What…?”

It was a moment that made her belief that this was a one-time contract seem utterly foolish.

The idea of having to continue this life until giving birth to a son was despairing to Rabiana. Or perhaps… not entirely. After all, her fate was to be cast out once she bore a child anyway. Maybe this was better.

“That’s why you should’ve thought things through.”

“…”

“From now on, develop the habit of reviewing and considering contracts thoroughly before agreeing. Otherwise, someone might end up sucking out your very soul.”

Alberto had deliberately left that point out, knowing Rabiana would’ve refused had she known. It was fortunate—almost laughably so—that she had taken the bait without thinking. Even if she realized it now, there was no undoing it.

***

Rabiana bundled herself up. After bathing, the heat in her body quickly faded and the chill crept in. Fearing she’d catch a cold, she put on a thick dress and draped a shawl over her shoulders.

She was running her fingers across a Braille book when she paused, dazed.

Alberto, who had helped her dress, had swiftly left the moment she coughed, seemingly worried about catching her cold. Perhaps he’d decided to retire from his duties as her attendant.

‘It’s not that I’m upset he left.’

But I can’t stop thinking about what Alberto said.

‘If it’s a daughter, then I suppose you’ll have to stay until a son is born.’

Stay… Somehow, she started to hope—could she, maybe, stay in this mansion for quite some time, using the child as an excuse?

Of course, she knew she shouldn’t harbor such hope. She couldn’t keep buying time forever.

The longer she stayed, the harder it would be when she was eventually cast out.

And yet, she couldn’t help but grow attached to this place.

Kind Julia, inscrutable Alberto.

The greenhouse filled with the scent of flowers.

The crisp sounds of his office.

The library made just for her.

The Braille books.

Just thinking about leaving it all behind stirred an unexpected reluctance in her, a wavering from the resolve she had once made.

If it meant she could stay just a little longer—

Then perhaps, she wanted to bear a daughter.

***

“I just can’t bring myself to like her.”

Bianca glanced sideways at Rabiana with clear distaste.

It had already been some time since Rabiana had stayed at the mansion.

Bianca had stopped using formal speech with her entirely, no longer pretending to treat her with respect.

Rabiana tensed.

Of course, she would bear a child.

She was already working with Alberto toward that goal.

“She can’t even act like a proper lady, and not once has she held a proper reception as the duchess. Can we even call her the Lady of House Roen?”

Bianca nitpicked every little thing about her.

Even the bandage wrapped around her injured ankle seemed to offend her, and the fact that Rabiana endured her anger in silence only seemed to irritate her more.

She was now scolding Rabiana over not sending replies to the letters and gifts that had arrived congratulating her on becoming the Lady of the North.

That part was, admittedly, Rabiana’s mistake.

As the wife of a noble house, it had been her responsibility.

But it hadn’t been out of spite or laziness—it was simply ignorance.

She had never been taught.

After she turned ten, the only person in her world was Lawrence, and even after marriage, no one had ever explained what was expected of a noble’s wife.

“Thank you for letting me know.

I hadn’t thought about that.

If there are other things I’m not aware of, please feel free to tell me.”

Bianca scoffed at the brazen response.

She couldn’t believe such a meek, timid girl—one who always seemed on the verge of tears—would dare to talk back.

“This is why we don’t let in those who’ve had no proper upbringing.”

That remark struck a nerve.

It wasn’t shame that pricked at Rabiana.

It was sorrow.

Her lack of education stemmed from losing her parents at a young age.

Tears welled up—sudden and hot.

She couldn’t say she wasn’t afraid of Bianca.

Until now, the most hostile presence in her small world had been Alberto. But after meeting Bianca, he merely seemed cold by comparison.

Bianca’s open contempt pierced her more deeply than any calculated cruelty.

No matter what she did, Bianca would always hate her.

Just one scathing comment had shattered Rabiana’s composure completely.

“Oh my, are you crying?”

“…I… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

“What did I even do to make you cry, huh?” Bianca snapped, fanning herself with irritation.

She carried that fan even in winter—not for comfort, but to assert dominance.

The sharp sound of it snapping open and shut served as a threat.

With a loud smack, she set the fan down.

“Are you going to stop or not?”

At the sharp rebuke, Rabiana bit the inside of her cheek. But the tears wouldn’t stop.

Bianca watched her in contempt before walking to the window.

Snow drifted down beyond the castle walls, and the gate opened for a carriage pulling in.

Alberto had gone out hunting earlier that day.

The reason for his sudden departure was unclear, but to Bianca, it was a stroke of luck.

“Get ready.”

“…What?”

Still covering her mouth to hold back sobs, Rabiana was completely confused.

Bianca’s heels clicked closer across the marble.

“I’ve called a physician. We need to see if your body is even capable of bearing children, don’t you think?”

It wasn’t Roen’s official court physician that Bianca had summoned.

The official doctor received his salary directly from Alberto—and was therefore not Bianca’s ally.

Bianca had no intention of letting Rabiana stay.

Her plan was simple: get rid of the girl, and put her own blood on the Roen ducal throne.

The eldest son would inherit his father’s title.

The second son?

He would inherit House Roen.

That was the future Bianca had in mind.

Though still an infant, she could not allow the Roen line to be severed. Bianca refused to acknowledge Alberto as her sister’s son.

For that, Alberto could have no heir. To Bianca, Rabiana was a thorn in her eye—someone who had to be removed.

“Girl. What are you doing? Come here and roll up your sleeves.”

Rabiana backed away from them. It was sudden, an unforeseen situation.

It was something even Alberto, Rabiana included, had overlooked:

She might be unable to bear children.

Terrified, she feared a diagnosis of infertility. If that happened, her death would come sooner than planned.

She did not want to die yet. Not yet—she lacked the courage.

“Hold her.”

At Bianca’s order, the men accompanying the physician approached Rabiana.

She couldn’t see; there was no escape. A man behind her seized her wrist. The lukewarm touch sent a chill through her. Multiple hands pinned her down.

“Let—let me go, please…!”

Rabiana writhed in resistance. The click of heels—then a sudden blaze on her cheek.

A metallic taste filled her mouth.

Only moments later did she realize she had been slapped.

Blood trickled from the scratch Bianca’s nail left on her cheek.

“Tsk. Couldn’t you just stay still for the examination? Do you think I’ll eat you?”

“…”

The physician yanked up her sleeve and gripped her wrist.

Rabiana thought she might suffocate from fear. She was so terrified she could think of nothing.

Being touched without consent. Being forced to learn her body’s condition against her will.

And the dread that she might indeed be barren sent her blood racing. Nausea rose.

All she could do was shiver in fear and extend her arm.

Strange, cold instruments passed over her skin one after another.

“Regrettably, she cannot conceive.”

At the physician’s verdict, Bianca’s lips curled in satisfaction.

Everything had gone according to plan.