1.
Knock, knock. Marin Schventz knocked, opened the door, and entered the room with a tray in her hands.
Her mother, Roanna, lay limply on the bed.
Her once-lustrous blonde hair was now streaked with gray, and her cheeks were so sunken that her sickly state was painfully apparent.
Hiding the sadness in her eyes, Marin called out to Roanna in an artificially bright voice.
“Mother.”
Roanna’s eyelids fluttered and opened weakly.
“Marin.”
Roanna slowly pulled herself up, leaning her back against the headboard.
“You look like you have more color today, Mother. I think you’ll be healthy again soon.”
At Marin’s playful chatter, a faint smile graced Roanna’s pale lips.
“Thank you. But you’re at an age where you could be married at any time; how much longer do you intend to call me ‘Mother’?”
“Oh my! Even if I reach your age, I will still call you ‘Mother’.”
Marin, eyes wide as if to ask what she was talking about, soon giggled.
“Oh, goodness. Who could stop you? Your brother, he…”
As Roanna smiled along, she suddenly stiffened and could not finish her sentence.
“Mother! Your unstoppable daughter has brought you some medicine and soup.”
Marin deliberately acted as if she hadn’t heard, showing off the tray.
Roanna looked down at the medicine and soup, then raised her head with a darkened expression.
“Have you eaten?”
“Of course. I just had two bowls.”
Though she had been starving since yesterday, Marin deliberately puffed out her stomach and pretended to be full.
Watching her with sad eyes, Roanna turned her head away and sank back into the pillows.
“I have no appetite. You eat my portion as well.”
It was a bowl of soup made by scraping the very last of the ingredients left in the house.
She couldn’t possibly eat this precious meal instead of her sick mother.
“Mother…”
“I really don’t have an appetite.”
She was firm, as if she had sensed Marin’s lie about being full. Once she was this stubborn, there was no changing her mind.
“Mother. Then shall I read to you?”
It was the most effective method of coaxing her.
“Aren’t you busy today? Actually, I haven’t been able to sleep lately. I fall asleep easily when you read to me.”
Expectation filled Roanna’s face.
“You should have told me sooner.”
“I didn’t want to be a burden to you when you’re so busy.”
“I will read to you. But in exchange, you must eat the soup.”
Roanna shook her head weakly, a silent refusal.
Thump, thump, thump.
Just as Marin was about to press her, a sharp knocking rattled the hut’s door.
“Mother, it seems someone is here. I’ll read to you in a little while. I’ll leave the soup on the table, so please eat it if you get hungry. Promise?”
“…”
Leaving the silent Roanna behind, Marin stepped out of the room. She passed through the small kitchen and opened the front door.
The landlord, Mr. Zorno—a middle-aged man with a belly as large as a pregnant woman’s—smirked when he saw her.
“Marin.”
“Mr. Zorno. Hello.”
At the sight of the landlord she so despised, Marin did her best to hide her bitterness.
“Yes, I am always well. Have you been well, Marin?”
“Yes. What brings you here?”
Mr. Zorno let out a booming laugh, as if he had heard a funny joke.
“What brings me here? After all, between us…”
Marin clenched her fists at Mr. Zorno’s lecherous gaze as he openly looked her over. Despite being a married man, he cast such suggestive looks every single time.
*Should I hit him? Should I just hit him and run?*
Thinking of her sick mother in the next room, Marin hid her trembling hands behind her back.
“If you have no business here, I am busy.”
As Marin spoke coldly and tried to close the door, Mr. Zorno grinned and wedged his foot in the frame, gripping the door firmly.
“Starting this month, the rent has tripled.”
“What do you mean…”
Marin looked at him with a bewildered expression.
“Marin, you’ve always paid on time, so I hadn’t raised it until now, but other houses increased theirs long ago. Rent is due in five days, right? I’ll come to collect it myself. If you don’t have the money, you’ll have to get out.”
Mr. Zorno glared, issuing his threat.
“How am I supposed to find such a large sum of money on such short notice? Could you please give me a little more time?”
Marin bowed her head and pleaded. Winter was approaching. It would be disastrous if she and her sick mother were evicted.
As if he had expected this, Mr. Zorno smiled slyly and leaned his face closer.
“Of course, it’s not that there’s no other way…”
Before he could finish his lecherous words, Marin slammed the door shut right in front of him.
“Argh, my nose!”
Serves him right. Marin locked the door securely and braced her back against it.
Rattle, rattle. As Mr. Zorno grabbed the handle and shook it, her body shook along with it.
“Hey, open the door! Do you think I’ll go easy on you? You withered broomstick! Spit, phooey!”
Mr. Zorno shouted at the top of his lungs, then finally retreated.
Marin swallowed a heavy sigh and looked toward Roanna’s room. She must have heard the entire commotion. She was terrified that her mother, already so fragile, would suffer a decline in health.
Marin walked toward the door but lowered her hand before she could knock.
Could she really comfort her mother? Could she lie and say everything would be alright?
Marin hung her head low and opened the door to her own room across the hall. The hinges let out a piercing screech. She frowned; they were rusted and long overdue for a replacement.
The only furniture in the room was a shabby bed and an antique vanity. It was the only piece they had saved from their former mansion. She couldn’t bear to part with it, remembering her father’s face, telling her to treasure it because her grandmother had loved it so.
“I need money.”
Marin muttered the words in a low, desperate voice.
Sick people needed nutrition, and every time she had to hand her mother soup lacking even a scrap of meat, she felt as if her heart were being torn apart. Now, with the rent tripled, it was a catastrophe.
“Damn landlord.”
Marin sat down heavily and carefully pulled a slip of paper from the back of the vanity drawer. It was filled with writing only she could decipher.
Her gaze settled on the first line.
『The Bluebird of the Western Duke Does Not Cry』
It was only after her carriage accident that she realized she was living inside the pages of this novel. She had spent a month hovering between life and death; when she woke, the realization hit her like a lightning bolt.
Was she the protagonist? No. She was born and raised in the West, the setting of the story. Living there, it was impossible not to know of the Duke Vines family.
The plot was simple: The male protagonist, the Western Duke, is blinded by a magical beast attack. He then meets the female protagonist, a prodigy in herbalism, who heals his eyes. It was a classic romance fantasy.
She had read many novels about Northern Dukes, but she had chosen this one simply because a Western Duke seemed fresh. To think she had been reincarnated into the very world she had consumed for entertainment.
“Absurd…”
She was a minor extra who hadn’t even appeared in a single line of the original text. A background existence meant to stay still and do nothing. If things continued, she would hear of the Duke’s happy ending from afar—his wedding would be a noisy, century-defining event.
But the problem was money.
“I need money.”
She had no time to be confused. The Schventz Viscount Family had collapsed, and financial ruin had come crashing down. After the carriage accident, her father’s immense debts were revealed. They had been forced to surrender their lands, assets, and mansion, selling everything until only the clothes on their backs remained.
By selling the last expensive dress, they had barely managed to rent this two-room hut at the foot of the mountain.
She had to do something. The title of a Viscount’s daughter, one who had lost her family and couldn’t even make her debut, was useless.
“I need money.”
Marin repeated the words, hypnotizing herself. Otherwise, her resolve not to interfere in the lives of the protagonists might falter. Until now, she had struggled desperately to stay hidden. But she was at her limit.
Marin’s pale, green eyes stared intensely at the paper in her hand—the key to the plot points she knew so well.
She had the knowledge of the Duke, the male lead of this world.
It was time to use the only weapon she possessed.