The Marchioness Ambros was someone I knew only through business connections. She was not as big a fan of the “Safety Rules of the Duke’s Haunted Palace” as the Empress, and we did not have any personal relationship.
(Translator's Note: “Safety Rules for Writing Horror Stories” has been changed to “Safety Rules for the Duke’s Haunted Mansion”)
In a way, she was just another vaguely familiar acquaintance.
“Of course, my hope is to maintain a close relationship with her in the future...”
However, there was another reason that prompted me to help both the Marchioness and the baron couple.
That is, Baron Bavron - who loved his wife dearly - did not die due to an epidemic, natural disaster, or any other unavoidable cause, but rather due to severe financial hardship.
And also because the Ambrosian couple, especially the Marchioness, had suffered so much – suffering to the brink of death from guilt – that they were only able to cling to life through treatment.
“It is too much to let things go as in the original work, even knowing this...”
Isn't this an inhumane act?
Not knowing is one thing, but standing idly by knowingly is quite another.
Moreover, on that day, even though Baron Bavron was trembling in fear, the Marchioness Ambros's eyes shone with tender love for her son.
“But it is important to hear the opinions of those directly involved, in the end.”
Of course, this included Baroness Bavron as well.
I had met the Baron many times and knew the kind of person he was, but the Baroness was completely different – all I knew was that she was ill, without any details about how she felt about the Marchioness of Ambros or how serious her condition was.
“We have arrived.”
And so, at this very moment.
I have come with Ian to Baron Bavron's mansion to see the sick Baroness Bavron.
“Do you still feel sick to your stomach?”
“Teleportation disease is... the worst thing ever...”
As she struggled to calm her churning stomach as if it might turn over at any moment, Ian nodded as if he understood everything.
“One of my colleagues also suffers from teleportation sickness. This friend always carries a vomit bag on long flights.”
“Oh, you don't mean...”
“Yes, that's exactly it.”
Thinking that one has to pack a bag every time they move to a new place is a terrible predicament.
Before we knew it, we had reached the old, rusty gate. The gate was wide open, making entry easy.
I entered cautiously, examining every detail of the Baron's palace.
“…Is this where people really live?”
Not a single servant – or even an ant – could be seen, and the main building exuded an eerie atmosphere as if it might collapse at any moment.
Even the garden on which we now stood seemed long neglected; Not only were the flowers a mess, even the weeds were not removed properly.
I was speechless in shock, and stood frozen for a moment, when suddenly a familiar figure appeared from a small house on the right and rushed towards me.
It was Baron Bavron.
“Oh my God... Miss? What brings you here...?!”
In contrast to the elegant appearance he had last time, his face was now filled with an unkempt and thin beard with dark shadows under his eyes.
“I sent a letter before I left. Didn’t you receive it perhaps?”
“Ah…”
He scratched the back of his head sheepishly.
"A while ago, due to a hurricane, our mailbox was uprooted and flew into the air. In addition, most of the letters that arrive are nothing but bills and collection notices... so I didn't bother to fix it."
“Haha.”
An awkward laugh echoed around.
This is crazy.
Seeing him like this made my heart heavy.
Bills and collection notices – Have you run up some debt?
Now, the original story in which a nobleman dies due to financial hardship finally makes sense.
I nodded lightly and met his gaze.
“It's been a long time, Baron. The reason I came today is because...”
At that, Ian came forward, carrying a basket filled to the brim with insulated bottles containing different types of stocks and soups.
“I was hoping to see the Baroness.”
“This...”
The Baron stammered as he took the basket and looked at me with wide eyes.
Shortly afterwards, he pointed towards the small annex where he was staying.
“Yes, my wife will be very happy! So, miss, please follow me.”
His steps seemed to be much lighter now than when he first appeared.
* * *
“Cough, cough…!”
The condition of Baron Bavron's wife, whom I finally met, seemed very critical at first glance.
Perhaps because she was not eating properly as a result of her illness, her skin color was pale, and she was coughing two to three times a second without interruption.
But even in the midst of it all, were her eyes sparkling as she looked at me, or was I just imagining it?
“Lady April…”
At that call, I almost jumped out of my chair out of surprise.
What happened to this character? Why do I feel the same madness in her eyes as I do with the Empress?
“I heard that... kh kh ! ...You're the writer of the story about the safety rules of the Duke's Haunted Mansion...”
“Huh?”
Did Baron Bavron tell her?
But very few people knew that I was involved in the “Haunted Duke’s Mansion” project.
Before I could realize how strange the conversation was going, the Baroness continued speaking hurriedly.
“And while I was lying in bed, I found solace in reading comics… cough! Thanks to that, even breathing became pleasant… cough! So, as soon as I regained my health… cough, cough!… I decided to devote my body and soul to the Duke’s Haunted Mansion.”
“What?!”
Wait, instead of going on a refreshing trip somewhere with her husband once her condition improves, she will devote herself to the Duke's haunted mansion?
Is she serious?
But the Baroness was more serious than I expected.
“I especially liked Benedict's character story...”
Suddenly, a secondary figure appeared out of nowhere.
Most people only remember the main characters.
However, the Baroness wasted no time in enthusiastically discussing Benedict's story and sharing her thoughts on him.
“How could there be such a priest… KH! Blonde hair, a priest’s robe… and black leather gloves – simply… KH! Absolutely gorgeous…”
“Oh, thank you.”
While the Baroness looked at me as if she were going to die from admiration for the character, I could only say a simple word of thanks.
I was starting to worry that she might actually break down at this pace, given how excited she was talking.
I handed her the glass of water from the side table and quietly decided to just listen.
“Maybe she just wanted to talk to someone other than Baron Bavron.”
If so, at least I should do this much for her.
After she drank the water I offered her, her face looked noticeably brighter than before.
Seeing that made me feel strangely happy too.
“…So, I was thinking of making Benedict the main character in a side story… ugh! …with a simple love story involving Nadia… ugh, ugh. What do you think?”
"Oh, that sounds like a great idea! A story like this might provide a refreshing change of pace."
When she agreed, the Baroness's face lit up, and she nodded enthusiastically.
"Isn't it? GH...! So readers who like this kind of romance... GH! ...will be very happy, GH, GH!"
And with a final remark of “Just imagining it gives me shivers of excitement...”, the Baroness's review of the Duke's Haunted Mansion finally came to an end.
There was a short silence, then I applauded her.
Clap, clap, clap.
How can I express that?
She felt like a brilliant storyteller who had yet to be discovered.
No one had ever discovered her talent, but Baroness Bavron seemed to have the perfect instincts for a story writer.
But that thought quickly faded as a persistent feeling of unease refused to go away, leaving me tilting my head in confusion.
“Hmm, by the way...”
Usually, people who are confined to bed in this way lose their appetite and become weak and emaciated.
But Baroness Bavron...she seemed a little different than I expected.
She was coughing and pale, sure, but aside from that, was there anything particularly unusual?
Is this down to Baroness Bavron's dedicated nursing care?
But if that were the case, wouldn't she have recovered from a minor illness by now?
“Baroness?”
"Yes? Oh, I'm sorry. I've been talking about myself all this time."
"No, it's not that. I just heard that your condition is critical, so... may I ask what specific symptoms you are experiencing?"