The Reincarnated Noble Lady is the Infamous Viscount's Heir - I've Accepted a Contract Marriage for Estate Management. - Chapter 1.15

“Wait, what do you mean?”

“Grace, it’s because you took charge as the head of the Viscountcy and worked to rebuild our family that I was able to earn the title of Magic Countess.”

What? How does that make sense? Isn’t it because of your own abilities?

I tilted my head in confusion but kept my expression neutral.

“I know I made things difficult for you,” Abigail continued. “You were in your prime, but I pushed you to focus entirely on your work without looking elsewhere.”

Ah, was she referring to those warnings she gave me? Things like, Be careful of honey traps or Don’t get swayed just because someone flatters you. Honestly, I was grateful. In my past life, I had no luck with romance. In this life, while I had a face that matched my preferences and the attention of suitors as a noblewoman, I had been overly swept up in it all. Her advice grounded me.

But Abigail… she claims that because I threw myself into running the Viscountcy after my broken engagement, it paved the way for her to earn the title of Magic Countess.

Could the Royal Magic Academy really be influenced by familial connections, even if just a little?

I’ve heard terrible stories of commoner-born mages having their research stolen by titled mages and being reduced to mere errand-runners. Abigail, being young and female, must have faced similar challenges.

What helped her navigate those challenges was our family’s partnership with the Mayfield family and the Russells Trading Company. Our joint business, producing magic wool products, became highly sought after among nobles. Even as a lower-ranked Viscount family, our name was attached to a prestigious and popular enterprise.

Abigail sent gifts of our products to the wives of influential academy figures, winning their favor. Meanwhile, she continued to sacrifice herself—quite literally—for her research. As a result, she carved out a solid reputation and became the youngest ever to receive the title of Magic Countess.

“So, Grace, it’s thanks to you,” Abigail concluded, “but it also cost you your marriage prospects. That’s why now is the time for me to leverage my title. And as for Lord Rockwell… sure, he’s handsome, but he’s also deeply tied to the military faction. I’ve worked with him before and received inquiries from him in the past.”

“Inquiries?” I echoed.

Not to Abigail—to me?!

I had assumed he danced three waltzes with me because he wanted to hear about Abigail’s work, but…

“What exactly are you working on now, Abigail?” I asked.

“Prosthetics for missing body parts.”

I gasped.

That’s incredible—but does that explain why she sacrificed her eye for her research?

Abigail removed her eyepatch, revealing her previously concealed eye.

“How does it look? Identical to my original, right?”

Patricia and Jessica both gasped as they stared at her face. There it was—the same vivid, clear eye as before.

“This prosthetic is amazing,” Abigail said with a grin. “It can do so much—long-distance vision, measure magical energy, detect abnormal conditions. There are still more features I’d like to add, though.”

The pride in her voice was unmistakable.

A prosthetic with features straight out of a fantasy novel? Incredible. It looked so real that you wouldn’t even guess it wasn’t her original eye. Abigail was a genius—no, a certified prodigy.

“As someone who has protected this family, Grace, you deserve to be happy. That’s why I’m here today—to make sure the Earl knows where he stands.”

Hearing this, Patricia looked visibly relieved.

Was it really necessary to worry so much? Well, I guess it makes sense given my history as a jilted fiancée.

“So, are you saying there’s more to the Earl’s proposal than meets the eye?” I asked.

Abigail reaffixed her eyepatch, resting a finger on her chin in thought. Jessica, still clinging to her arm, puffed her cheeks in protest.

“Stop doubting everything!” Jessica declared. “No matter what happens, it’ll be fine! Sure, I want all three of my sisters to marry and live happily ever after, but even if it doesn’t work out, you can always come back! Percy, the rest of us, and I will band together like we always have.”

What a reassuring statement. Jessica truly is the best little sister.

Percival, your fiancée might just be the strongest member of the Wilcox family. I wish I could let you hear this declaration yourself.

As the butler, Hans, and the housekeeper, Martha, prepared tea in the salon, the four of us gathered, savoring this rare moment of reunion before the Earl’s arrival.