The Reincarnated Noble Lady is the Infamous Viscount's Heir - I've Accepted a Contract Marriage for Estate Management. - Chapter 1.38

In two or three days, the Count seemed to have regained some of his health—just enough to appear somewhat recovered.

Still, I couldn’t let my guard down, so I visited him again today.

When I was shown to the room where the Count was staying, his face lit up with a warm smile as he saw me.

If he seemed well enough today, I had planned to finally say, “Well, I should head home soon…” But then, I learned that Duke Brocklebang would be visiting the castle tomorrow. At the same time, the military was planning to send an investigative team to the Brocklebang estate.

…Knowing this kind of information, there’s no way I can just go home.

A lowly viscountess like me shouldn’t be involved in matters of national importance. Just knowing about this puts me at risk of being placed under house arrest—or worse.

That’s just the reality of this world.

Ah… I wonder how things are going back home. I’m really worried about that.

“Percival seems to be managing things well,” the Count suddenly said.

Wait—was I thinking out loud?

“The next heir of the Wilcox family is quite capable,” he continued.

“Well… I’ve been teaching him many things since his time at the Royal Academy,” I replied, recalling how the Viscount of Mayfield had entrusted him to me.

“I’m a little jealous. He’s family, after all.”

“He’s a brilliant younger stepbrother. Completely infatuated with his cheerful little sister,” I said with a small laugh.

“I see… Then, Grace, you can rest easy and come to my side.”

In the past, such words from the Count might have flustered me, but now, they barely fazed me.

“You’re right… Once I can return home, I’ll make the preparations.”

I replied so smoothly that even I was surprised.

Once this matter is settled, I’ll make sure Jessica and Percival finally have their wedding. They’re still young, but I’m confident those two will make it work.

“Will you be heading to the Brocklebang estate yourself, Count?”

“No… I’ve been ordered not to.”

Ordered not to?

During my stay here, I realized that while the Count and His Grace are both in the military, their ranks are significantly different. Yet, this mission was entrusted to the Count in secrecy.

The Count’s talent and rising reputation likely played a part in his selection, but I can’t help but feel there’s more to it—something I’d rather not think about.

As I mulled this over, a knock came at the door. When I opened it, Abbott, the butler, stood there.

“Ah, Viscountess Wilcox, I see you’re here as well. My apologies for the sudden interruption, but… there’s a visitor.”

A visitor? For the Count? Without prior notice?

A bad feeling settled in the pit of my stomach. Abbott’s hesitant tone didn’t help.

“A visitor for the Count? Who is it?”

“Lady Catherine Brocklebang.”

—What?! The final boss, barging in while His Grace is away?!

You’ve got to be kidding me!

The Brocklebang estate is supposed to be under strict surveillance right now! How is Catherine still free to roam around? Isn’t she the one they should be watching most closely? Did the military fail to notify anyone?!

“His Grace is accompanying her as well,” Abbott added.

…Wait. Is this one of those situations where the true culprit stops by before turning themselves in? Or has His Grace fallen under Catherine’s charm too?!

I turned to the Count.

“Count…”

“Come with me, Grace,” he said, offering his arm and escorting me.

“It’s fine. If His Grace is with her, that means there’s someone present who can suppress her ‘charm.’”

R-Right. Surely they’ve taken precautions…

As we walked toward the drawing room where Catherine was waiting, I couldn’t help but mutter, “Why did she cast her charm on Claude…?”

The Count smiled, but there was a hint of displeasure in his expression.

Oh no… Is it because I used my ex-fiancé’s name again?

Still, he explained.

“Catherine and Claude met in town. At the time, Claude was often out carousing with older nobles like Baron Kimble. When they spotted Catherine in a shop, they decided to exploit her—a fragile-looking girl claiming noble status despite her uncertain origins. They seized on her vulnerability and took advantage of her.”

What scum. Claude was despicable to the very end.

So Catherine was from a brothel… The late king discarded a maid, someone as young as his granddaughter, into such a place? He didn’t even send her back to her family? Or did he plan to continue using her there?

Thank goodness I wasn’t born during his reign…

At least send the maid back to her family! Though, even then, her life would’ve been difficult. Returning home would likely mean an arranged marriage or a convent, but the trauma might have made a cloistered life more bearable.

“Even family connections mean little against overwhelming power,” the Count said softly.

“I’ve already decided that if I ever have children, they’ll never work in the royal palace,” I replied.

Even if I had a daughter, I’d want her to have skills to live independently. Though… if she became a maid… ugh, the thought pains me.

While I was silently cycling through these thoughts, the Count seemed to be in an unusually good mood.

“Grace, how many children would you like?”

His sudden question snapped me out of my thoughts.

“I-I haven’t thought that far ahead yet!”

“I see… Well, if they get along as well as you and your sisters, I wouldn’t mind having as many as we could manage.”

“We… we only became close because our parents weren’t reliable. We had no choice but to fend for ourselves. If they had been present, we might’ve been a complete mess…”

“I don’t think so. Grace is remarkably forward-thinking. And any child of yours would undoubtedly be adorable.”

Well… compared to my face in my past life, this one isn’t bad, so maybe… But the thought of having children with the Count? They’d definitely be too cute, and I’d spoil them rotten!

Abbott, please pretend you didn’t hear that! I beg you!

As we reached the drawing room where Catherine was waiting, the Count’s earlier lighthearted banter began to make sense. He’d been trying to ease the fear and tension I must have been feeling.

Yes. It’s fine. I’ll protect the Count.

Catherine’s background may be tragic, but I won’t hand him over to her.

When Abbott opened the door, there stood His Grace, accompanied by two staff members from the Mage Academy and a group of guards.

And there she was—Catherine.

She curtsied perfectly, as expected of a duke’s daughter.

Her refined gestures must have been instilled in her by her late mother, who had served at the royal castle.

“Why… why didn’t the charm work on you?”

Catherine’s voice broke the silence. She must have absolute confidence in her magic.

After all, she had bent Claude, the Crown Prince, and countless others to her will.

Even now, the brooches on the Mage Academy staff’s robes shimmered faintly, indicating that defensive magic was actively in place.

“Oh, it worked,” the Count replied calmly. “But reporting to His Grace was my top priority, so I pushed through. Besides, Grace called her sister, the Mage Countess, and I received excellent aftercare.”

“That’s… unfortunate. I thought you’d understand me,” Catherine said, her voice filled with disappointment.

The Count didn’t even glance at her. Instead, his gaze remained on me, warm and tender.

“I don’t,” he said coldly.

Though his expression was kind as he looked at me, his voice carried nothing but icy indifference toward Catherine.

“Catherine, you use your charm magic to demand love, but you never give love in return.”

His words made Catherine bristle with rage.

“You, of all people, have no right to lecture me! You’re just a bastard! You’ve never been loved by your parents!”

Catherine had always manipulated the love of men to her advantage—Claude, the Crown Prince, the Second Prince, even the Crown Prince’s close aides.

Her desperate longing to be loved must have fueled her charm magic.

I could sympathize with the pain that led her to this point.

But that doesn’t mean I’ll let her take from me. Not again.

“Lady Catherine, you’re wrong. The Count is loved,” I said firmly.

The Count might have called himself “free” because he was a bastard, but he had always been watched over and cared for.

“He is cherished. Even if it wasn’t always obvious through words or actions… Isn’t that right, Your Grace, Duke of Redgrave?”

The Count’s eyes widened.

“Wait, I haven’t told you that yet… How did you know?”

The Count looked genuinely surprised. The fact that he hadn’t told me yet meant he’d planned to eventually.

…Well, it was obvious, wasn’t it? No matter how talented he was, it didn’t make sense for someone of his rank to be directly tasked by the military’s top brass.

I’d suspected this for a while.

“You, with your perfect family, could never understand how I feel! You’ve always been loved by your parents!” Catherine shouted.

Hmm… It’s true my parents in this life weren’t monsters like Catherine’s. But at their best, they were distant and uninvolved. At their worst, they were neglectful.

It didn’t bother me too much, though.

I had plenty of people to love and who loved me in return.

Compared to my past life, I was loved much more in this world.

And that’s why I’m happy. Always have been.

“Having parents doesn’t guarantee love,” the Count said, his voice steady. “Grace gives freely to those around her, protecting them as she uses her strength. That’s why I was drawn to her. She made me want to protect her.”

Hearing him say that made me a little embarrassed, but… he wasn’t wrong.

I’ve always done my best to care for those around me—my sisters, my friends, anyone close to me.

The Count took my hand and pressed a kiss to its back.

Then, he spoke.

“Grace. I may soon become royalty with a claim to the throne, but I want to remain your knight.”

What a line.

You’ve been thinking about this for a while, haven’t you, Count?

I couldn’t help but smile, my villainess mask momentarily breaking.

I hope, in this moment, that my smile is one the Count will find truly beautiful.