The Price Is Your Everything - Chapter 34

Nerys silently gazed at Heather.

She wasn’t surprised by Heather’s appearance or her words. It was all within her expectations.

After all, she had deliberately walked past the room where Heather was staying and dismissed the servants in a loud enough voice for Heather to hear.

Joan’s words to Nerys turned out to be better information than expected. Even if she felt guilty, Joan wouldn’t want to bear the full responsibility for the misconduct forced upon her by her superior.

By openly displaying her intent to “fight Angelo,” she was indirectly saying, “So I need all the help you can give me.”

‘Muriel was carelessly boasting as if this house would soon be hers.’

It had been worth provoking both Muriel and Heather. Since they were still young, touching on their concerns would only make them act more impulsively.

As a result, whatever their original plan was, it would now unfold more hastily than the scheming adults had initially intended—whether because they sensed something amiss or because the first step had already been set in motion.

Heather, who had been watching Nerys lost in thought, hesitated, unsure of how to react. Then, realizing her own wounded pride, she decided to focus on the fact that she didn’t like this feeling.

No matter how she thought about it, there was nothing Nerys Truydd could do anymore.

Glaring, Heather hissed.

“The traitor will disappear, and so will you. You’d better not get in my way.”

“Thanks for the advice.”

Nerys’ reply was light, and she casually lifted her skirt slightly in a refined gesture. As the daughter of a knight, Nerys could perform that noble etiquette effortlessly—something Heather, who was not a noble, could not. Naturally, it was meant to mock her.

Heather fumed but knew she couldn’t win a verbal battle against Nerys. Turning away was her only option.

I’ll tell Father everything! I’ll make him get rid of that infuriating girl right away! If necessary, we’ll move up the plan!

—

The dreamlike festival days passed quickly—daytime filled with scenic excursions, evenings with banquets and balls, and indoor amusements for rainy days. Soon, the festival’s main day arrived.

In the morning, children received a mountain of presents and ran excitedly around the mansion, while the adults exchanged wry smiles, thinking about the expenses.

It was an unusual day for any household where even the lowest-ranking servants would receive generous coins and fine fabrics. Young relatives and even guests’ children, as long as they weren’t of age, were given exotic toys, elegant quills, or silk ribbons.

However, the children’s fun ended by dinner. According to imperial standards, anyone under seventeen had to be in their playroom or bedroom once the sun set.

The older children, who had barely missed the age limit, protested, claiming they could behave maturely at the banquet, but the rules were strictly upheld.

With all banquet attendees gathered on the first floor, the upper floors of the mansion fell into a rare silence. As they passed through the central hall toward the banquet hall, the adults engaged in hushed conversations.

The cathedral’s sacred water, stored in a second-floor hall with an open ceiling, was exceptionally large, nearly reaching the roof. Guests stole glances at the lavishly adorned basin as they passed.

“Have you heard the news? The Count is planning to invest in Atrapalea.”

“My dear lady, anyone in high society who hasn’t heard would be considered outdated. Now, are you considering an investment as well?”

The banquet hall, adorned with red ribbons and dazzling candlelight, buzzed with discussions about diamond mines.

Those with financial means were eager to extract more information from Angelo Railing, who had brought news of the mines.

Having risen to prominence through his partnership with the MacKinnon family, Angelo maintained a humble yet confident demeanor as he declared that most of the necessary investment had already been secured. He assured the guests that he had just as much at stake as the Count and Countess.

If all the needed funds were already gathered—well, the more money one had in business, the more one could earn.

Some nobles, thinking that the small-time merchant leader was intentionally inflating his value, were keen to uncover the exact terms he had in mind.

Observing this scene, Joyce spoke to his cousin with an unusually cheerful expression.

“I should visit Atrapalea. If the conditions are as promising as we hope, I’ll take Dee there. Angelo Railing has done us quite the favor.”

Shivna had brought in a physician named Lemartre, a specialist in cases similar to Diane’s.

He was from Carmicles, where Atrapalea was located, and seemed unwilling to travel abroad for a house call. Joyce and the Count’s family had yet to inform Diane, but they were considering taking her directly to the doctor for treatment.

Nualan wore a conflicted expression. He was aware of the plan.

“As much as I want Dee to get better, are we really all going together? Wouldn’t it be better to send just her? A renowned doctor with high standards won’t come cheap.”

“We have enough money. And this is the only way.”

Joyce’s smile was tinged with bitterness, but beneath that, anticipation and joy were unmistakable.

He still vividly remembered the day he first met his much younger sister.

Diane had been so small and fragile that he’d been afraid to hold her. But once she could recognize people, she clung to him. Unlike his peers, who found him too blunt and awkward, the baby trusted him without a hint of doubt. She would press her warm little face against his shoulder and fall asleep.

Diane was the person Joyce loved most in the world.

One day, when he was much younger, he had looked at his adorable sister and thought even her breath shimmered like sunlight. In that moment, he had sworn to give her everything he had.

Even if the price for that was the loss of his title.

‘All Nobles of Bistor Must Attend the Noble Academy’

This law was not enacted for the sake of fostering camaraderie among nobles. It was enforced regardless of personal wishes. Even poor health was not a valid exemption unless one was in a condition so severe that they could barely stand.

Thus, for Diane to leave the Noble Academy and receive proper treatment, she had to cease being a noble.

That meant the Count and Countess had to transfer their title to someone else.

Fortunately, the MacKinnon family had several suitable heirs for succession. Shivna, in particular, was deeply concerned about his niece’s health, even going so far as to use his connection with Angelo to gather information about Lemartre.

Though Shivna’s division in the MacKinnon trading company was struggling, a man who looked out for those around him would eventually survive—after all, those he helped would support him in return.

There was nothing to worry about.

If Shivna inherited the countship, Nualan, who would naturally become the heir, had always taken good care of his younger relatives. Muriel, though spoiled from being doted on at home, would likely change once she became a noble lady.

Leaving behind their title to move abroad meant relinquishing all their social ties and properties. While they would bring as much gold as possible to establish themselves, they would have to abandon all the advantages they had enjoyed in Bistor.

Had Angelo Railing not brought news of a promising diamond mine in Atrapalea, making the decision might have been far more difficult.

However, the Count was still in good health, and the prospect of a new business venture in the very region where Diane’s doctor resided felt like a sign—perhaps even fate—urging them to start anew.

Nualan, well aware of the plan, gave his honest advice.

“Don’t be too extreme. Once you decide, there’s no turning back, so think it through. Lemartre hasn’t even been confirmed as the right doctor to cure Dee.”

Joyce nodded.

“Don’t worry. We’re not rushing out immediately. We’ll assess the situation first. It’s not like we’re heading to a foreign land where we know no one.”

Besides, there was no rule saying the treatment had to be long-term. Who knew? The doctor might take one look and cure her in an instant.

The MacKinnon family still held on to that hope.

Clink, clink, clink.

As the cousins finished their conversation, the crisp sound of a spoon tapping against a glass rang out from the Count and Countess’ table. The Count, the one who had made the sound, stood with a smile, drawing everyone’s attention.

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for gathering here today…”

He began with the customary remarks—the significance of the festival, gratitude to the gods, and wishes for the guests’ health and prosperous businesses—before singling out a specific person.

“My siblings were all born to the same parents, yet they each turned out differently. Among them, Shivna MacKinnon, more than any other, deeply cherishes his family. Even if I were in his position, I don’t know if I could have done the same.”

Joyce nodded in agreement as the easygoing Shivna gave a wry smile, his face flushing.

He had never been the center of attention before—especially not from the vast crowd of the Count and Countess’ many distinguished guests.

The Count continued, vaguely expressing the family’s gratitude toward Shivna before concluding his speech.

The guests exchanged glances. By etiquette, guests were always given precedence over family. For the Count to openly praise his brother in front of so many people, especially singling him out among his siblings, there had to be a reason.

What could that reason be?

Naturally, more people gravitated toward Angelo.

Though Angelo had expanded his business ventures, he was originally known for supplying medicine, and everyone was aware of his close ties with Shivna. He had to know something.

The banquet table was filled with luxurious dishes prepared with extravagant ingredients and intricate cooking techniques. As the meal progressed, Joyce engaged in polite conversation with those around him. By the time dessert arrived, everyone was slightly tipsy from the variety of wines served.

As some guests began slipping away for walks, card games, or a smoke, Nualan rose from his seat.

“Where are you going?” Joyce asked.

Nualan winked.

“Checking on our young lady.”

“She’s fine. Muriel isn’t that young anymore, you know. If you mean our baby, that’s another story.”

“I do mean your baby. Last time I checked, Dee’s little friend was craning their neck, peering down at the first floor. The second-floor balcony isn’t the safest place—I need to make sure nothing happens.”

Joyce immediately understood which balcony Nualan was referring to.

When entering the main residence through the first-floor entrance, part of the second floor had an open ceiling, leading to a gallery-style space. The railing had been installed precisely to prevent anyone from suddenly falling down to the first floor.

For someone as overprotective as Joyce, the thought of Diane leaning over that railing to look down was nearly catastrophic.

“I’m coming with you.”

“If she’s in her room, are you planning to give her a goodnight kiss?”

“Of course.”

Joyce’s firm answer made Nualan chuckle.

At that moment, however, Angelo approached Joyce.

“Young master, regarding your planned visit to Atrapalea, there are some matters we need to discuss…”

Joyce hesitated, looking slightly troubled. Nualan, ever reliable, waved a hand dismissively.

“Go ahead and talk. Only one of us needs to check.”

It was true.

Joyce understood that Angelo was a busy man. With a sharp glance at the banquet hall door and Angelo, he nodded.

“Give Dee a kiss for me.”

“You’re impossible. Fine, I’ll do it for you—just don’t get jealous later.”

Laughing, Nualan strode out of the banquet hall. Those who had overheard the exchange chuckled knowingly. The MacKinnon family truly had an unusually close bond.

Nualan walked through the first-floor hall and stopped at an ideal spot to look up toward the second floor.

There was no one there, but he wasn’t alarmed.

There were countless ways to lure sulking children—frustrated at being excluded from the adults’ party—into a little “accident.”

A cunning glint flickered in Nualan’s eyes.