When the Mid-Boss Villainous Noble Recalls Memories of a Past Life and Gains Game Knowledge. I Will Never Accept a Future Where I'm Called the Jealous Earl - Chapter 12

“Mother?!”

A panicked voice jolted me awake.

“What’s wrong—?” “Mother! Mother!!”

On the bed, the young girl clung to her mother. Though weak and frail, the mother mustered her strength to embrace her daughter in return.

“You’ve regained consciousness.”

It was a heartwarming reunion. Mina and the guards quietly stepped back, allowing the mother and daughter their private moment. Naturally, I followed suit.

The mother’s trembling arms encircled her daughter, gently stroking her back.

“Um… who might you be?” she finally asked, breaking the tender silence.

“I am Caril Dicaman, the one who treated you. These are my servants and guards,” I said, introducing myself.

Her eyes widened in surprise.

“That the Earl of Dicaman himself would treat me… I’m deeply grateful, but I have no money to pay you. Even if it takes years, I will repay this debt. Please, let my daughter live freely.”

Her voice, though frail, carried a surprising dignity and strength. It reminded me of a noblewoman engaging in delicate verbal sparring, her tone measured and precise.

“I’ve already made an agreement with your daughter,” I explained. “The terms were simple: I would test a new treatment on you to confirm its effectiveness. In exchange, the medical fees are waived.”

It was a verbal agreement, lacking any formal documentation or witnesses. Still, I had no intention of breaking my word.

“I see. Allow me to thank you again. Truly, I am deeply grateful.” Her expression remained inscrutable, her gaze steady as she studied me.

Between us, an unspoken tension lingered, creating an atmosphere that neither Mina nor the guards dared to disrupt.

“Isalento, block all sound.] Let me be direct—what house do you belong to?”

It didn’t take long to sense that this woman was no ordinary person. Though clearly unwell and visibly fragile, her demeanor spoke volumes. Dragging this conversation out felt unnecessary—and perhaps unfair.

“…My name is Namis Bertona,” she said at last. “Well, you’d have to add ‘former’ now.”

My breath caught. The Bertona family. Once a noble house of viscounts, they were famed for their healing magic.

Healing magic was typically monopolized by the church, taught as a divine blessing granted through prayer. Contracts during the learning process ensured its secrets were tightly controlled, never shared outside ecclesiastical circles.

But the Bertona family had acquired their healing abilities through other means.

The details of their methods were shrouded in rumor, but one famous quote attributed to their founder said, “Miracles of the divine? Hardly. We gained this knowledge through a deep understanding of humanity.” Despite countless efforts, no one had replicated their techniques.

A survivor of that family? Here?

“Healing magic… from the Bertona family?” I asked, careful to mask my surprise.

Namis let out a bitter laugh. “I am hardly a noble anymore.”
The Bertona family had clashed with the church, accused of making pacts with demons. The church had ultimately destroyed them, wiping out the entire family.

“Was it all a false accusation?” The question slipped out before I could stop myself.

“…Who knows?”

Her evasive answer was hardly surprising. Among the nobility, discussing the Bertona family was taboo. Still, it was an open secret that the church had orchestrated their downfall.

“I can’t share the details unless I can trust you. For now, I hope this suffices.”

“I apologize for asking something so inappropriate,” I said. It was clear that whatever had happened, it wasn’t something she wished to relive. I shouldn’t have pried.

And yet, I hadn’t expected my patient to be a Bertona.

“Um… Mother?” the young girl spoke softly.

“It’s all right, Noel,” Namis said gently. “You can share your name with him.”

With the tension easing between Namis and me, the others in the room visibly relaxed.

“Um, I’m Noel. Noel Bertona.”

“Caril Dicaman, at your service.”

Formality dictated that nobles exchange proper introductions, even if they already knew each other’s names.

“Hmm?”

Wait… Noel?

“Is something the matter?” Namis asked.

“No, it’s nothing.”

Still, the name struck a familiar chord. Where had I heard it before? I usually remembered important details, but Noel wasn’t a key figure in this world’s stories.

No use dwelling on it now. Instead, I turned to the matter at hand.

“Well then, let’s discuss what happens next.”

“What happens next?” Namis repeated.

“Yes. I apologize for bringing this up so soon after your awakening, but there are decisions to be made.”

Regardless of who I had treated, there was one question I had to ask.

“What will you do from here?”

I had intended to explain further—that rumors of being treated by someone like me, unpopular within the duchy, might create challenges for them. Inviting them to my domain was the most logical solution.

“We’d like to move to the Earl’s territory, if possible,” Namis replied.

As expected from the Bertona lineage, her answer was precise and tactful, perfect for my deliberately vague question.

“Understood. I’ll make it happen.”

“Thank you.”

Her use of “if possible” acknowledged the potential risks I might face by sheltering a Bertona. My response, “I’ll make it happen,” was meant to dispel those concerns. It was a subtle, coded exchange—one any noble worth their title would understand.

“Well then—”

Knock, knock.

Before I could continue, a knock sounded at the door.

The timing was suspicious. Likely a spy from the duke. The soundproof barrier I’d set earlier might have drawn attention.

“Don’t move, Mina. Don’t open the door. How many guards are outside?”

“They’re out running errands at the moment.”

I glanced at Namis, whose expression had grown tense.

“I’ll handle this. If they speak to you, follow my lead.”

“Understood.”

I rose and moved toward the door. The guards tried to stop me, but the room was small, and I reached it quickly.

“Who’s there?”

“Earl Dikaman? I bring a message from the Duke.”

Now then, let’s see what awaits—friend or foe.