The Reincarnated Noble Lady is the Infamous Viscount's Heir - I've Accepted a Contract Marriage for Estate Management. - Chapter 1.30

It’s not as if I hold any special feelings for my ex-fiancé. To me, he’s just a part of the past.

But dead? A mysterious death?

Isn’t that a bit sudden? Even if his debauched lifestyle eventually led to his demise, you’d expect him to last another ten years or so.

“Are you sure about this?”

“I heard it mentioned at a business meeting I attended as your proxy. He was reportedly found in an alley behind the red-light district.”

“A mysterious death? What exactly does that mean? Was the cause of death undetermined?”

“Yes.”

What’s this, some kind of unexplained sudden death?

“Well, considering how reckless and thoughtless he was, maybe his behavior finally angered someone just as dim-witted as him, and he got beaten, stabbed, strangled, or even shot,” Jessica remarked with biting humor.

Her words were shockingly blunt.

“Apparently, the person who found him is someone we often see at business meetings,” Percival added.

“In the red-light district’s back alley? Ugh! That’s so filthy—even the person who discovered him must be disgusting!”

Jessica’s commentary was relentless, but it wasn’t helping move the discussion forward. Even Percival seemed to have had enough, as he covered Jessica’s mouth with his hand. Taking advantage of the moment, he pulled her into an embrace.

“Jessica, you have two options: leave the room or stay silent,” I said firmly.

Jessica nodded vigorously, choosing silence.

Once Percival let go of her mouth, she promptly wrapped herself around his arm like a clingy doll.

We all sat down on the small reception sofas in my office, and I gestured for Percival to continue his report.

“The person who found him mentioned that there were no visible external injuries.”

So, not one of the causes Jessica had listed earlier.

“Poisoning?”

“That seems to be the leading theory for the investigation. However, the discoverer also mentioned traces of magical energy.”

“Magic? Isn’t using magic, spells, or magical energy strictly forbidden in the capital?”

The only exception would be the Magic Academy, and even there, magic is only used within the facilities or in private residences for research.

Magic is a power that nobles possess.

Three generations ago, during a time of internal conflict—more like a Warring States period—those with magical abilities rose to power and united the current Lazurite Kingdom.

Because of this, magic users are synonymous with nobility, and political marriages often revolve around this. Unfortunately, I don’t have such powers myself!

In the Wilcox family, only Abigail has magical abilities. It’s not just us, though—magic users have become rare overall. When they do exist, their abilities are mostly limited to enhancing physical strength for the military or knights.

An unexplained death with no external injuries but traces of magic? The culprit is clearly a noble. This investigation wouldn’t even be handled by the gendarmerie’s forensic division—it would go straight to the Magic Academy.

I stood up from the sofa, went to my desk, and began drafting a letter to Abigail. I needed her insight into the cause of Claude’s death.

“So, about Claude. If he was frequenting the red-light district, he must have been living well financially, right?”

You need money to spend on women, after all.

“I don’t have that information yet. The body has been handed over to the gendarmerie, and I’ll keep investigating. But what I do know is that after he tried to pressure you into getting back together and was threatened by Abigail, he fled the scene. Yet, despite all this, he seemed to have plenty of money. It’s clear his funds didn’t come from his family.”

“That much is obvious.”

The Auteret family is a clerical nobility without lands. They wouldn’t have the resources to fund Claude’s extravagant lifestyle.

Besides, they’d disowned him.

“So, where did Claude get the money for his indulgences?”

As I said this, I finished the letter to Abigail and called Hans to have it delivered. Then I began sorting through the pile of tea party and soirée invitations on my desk.

Information often circulates at these gatherings.

Someone must know what Claude had been up to lately. After all, despite his fall from nobility, he seemed to be living quite lavishly.

Why did Claude have money?
What was he like in those final days?

It’s not lingering attachment or relief that he’s gone.

Even though he broke off the engagement, I never hated him enough to wish him dead. My feelings toward Claude are neutral—calm, even.

So, why am I doing this?

Isn’t it obvious?

Because the Earl is conducting such a dangerous investigation all on his own.

Who does he think his fiancée is?

It’s me, the Viscountess of the Wilcox family!

There’s no way I can let him handle something so risky by himself!

Yes, the Earl is far stronger than me in every way—status, wealth, everything.

But if he’s chosen me as his fiancée and intends to marry me, then he should let me help him!

I know I’ve been falling for him—I’m fully aware of it. That’s why I want to assist him and protect him.

Catherine, the Duke of Brocklebang’s daughter, is suspicious, but it’s hard to believe her family would stoop to financing someone like Claude to the point of endangering their own assets.

Of course, wealthy people can be stingy, so maybe they weren’t supporting him out of generosity either.

If they had wanted to deal with him, they could have banished him from the capital or used threats instead of outright murder.

Killing someone suddenly—it’s like something out of a mafia story from my past life.

“I accepted the Earl’s proposal. As his fiancée, I’ll do everything in my power to help him. After all, we’re going to get married.”