NOVEL NEXT WORLD Chapter 61
The Marchioness of Ambross was someone I had met purely through business connections. She wasn’t an ardent fan of ‘Safety rules for duke’s haunted manor’ like the Empress, nor did we share any personal rapport.
(Tl note :- Changed ‘Safety Rules for Writing Horror Stories’ to ‘Safety rules for duke’s haunted manor’ )
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…’
Nevertheless, there was another reason I wanted to help both the Marchioness and the Baron couple.
Namely, that Baron Pavron—who dearly loved his wife—did not pass away due to an epidemic, a natural disaster, or any other unavoidable cause, but rather from sheer financial hardship.
And also because the Ambross marquis couple, especially the Marchioness, suffered terribly—agonizing right up to the brink of death from guilt—and only managed to cling to life through treatment.
‘To let things proceed as in the original work even knowing that is simply too…’
Isn’t it inhuman?
It’s one thing not to know, but quite another to stand by knowingly.
Moreover, that day, although Baron Pavron trembled with fear, the Marchioness of Ambross’s eyes shone with tender love for her son.
‘But it’s important to hear the views of those directly involved, after all.’
Of course, that included Baroness Pavron as well.
I had met the Baron a few times and knew what kind of person he was, but the Baroness was entirely different—I only knew that she was ill, without any details about how she felt regarding the Marchioness of Ambross or how severe her condition was.
“We’ve arrived.”
And so, at this very moment.
I had come with Ian to Baron Pavron’s mansion in order to see the ailing Baroness Pavron.
“Are you still feeling unwell in your stomach?”
“Teleportation sickness is… absolutely the worst…”
As she struggled to steady her queasy stomach as if it might overturn at any moment, Ian nodded as if he understood everything.
“One of my colleagues suffers from teleportation sickness too. That friend always carries a bag for vomit during long journeys.”
“Oh, you don’t mean…”
“Yes, that’s exactly it.”
To think one must pack a bag every time one moves—it’s a dreadful predicament.
Before we knew it, we had reached the old, rusted gate. The gate was wide open, making entry easy.
I carefully stepped inside, scrutinizing every detail of the Baron’s mansion.
“…Is this really where people 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, upon which we now stood, looked long neglected; not only were the flowers in disarray, but even the weeds had not been properly cleared.
Lost for words in shock, I stood frozen for a moment when, suddenly, a familiar figure emerged from a small house on the right and dashed toward me.
It was Baron Pavron.
“Oh, my… Young Lady? What brings you all the way here…?!”
Unlike the neat appearance he had displayed last time, his face now sported an unkempt, sparse beard with dark shadows beneath his eyes.
“I sent word by letter before departing—did you perhaps not receive it?”
“Ah…”
He scratched the back of his head sheepishly.
“A while ago, due to a typhoon, our mailbox was torn off and sent flying. And besides, most of the letters that do arrive are nothing but bills and collection notices… so I didn’t bother to have it repaired.”
“Haha.”
An awkward laugh echoed around.
‘This is driving me crazy.’
Seeing him like this made my heart grow heavy.
Bills and collection notices—has he perhaps incurred some debt?
Now, the original story where a noble dies from financial hardship finally made sense.
I nodded lightly and met his gaze.
“It’s been a long time, Baron. The reason I’ve come today is…”
At that, Ian stepped forward with a basket filled to the brim with insulated bottles of assorted broths and soups.
“I wished to see the Baroness.”
“Th-this is…”
The Baron stuttered as he took the basket and looked at me with wide eyes.
Soon, he motioned toward the small annex where he had been staying.
“Yes, my wife will be exceedingly delighted! So, Young Lady, please follow me.”
It seemed his steps were much lighter now than when he had first appeared.
* * *
“Cough, cough…!”
The condition of Baron Pavron’s wife, whom I finally met, looked undeniably critical at first glance.
Perhaps due to not eating properly because of her illness, her complexion was pale, and she coughed two to three times per second without fail.
But even amidst all that, were her eyes sparkling as she looked at me, or was I just imagining it?
“Lady April…”
At that call, I nearly lifted myself off the chair in surprise.
W-what’s with this person? Why do I feel a similar madness in her eyes as the Empress?
“I heard that… cough, cough! …you are the story writer of Safety rules for duke’s haunted manor…”
“Huh?”
Did Baron Pavron tell her?
But only a handful of people knew that I was involved with Duke’s Haunted Manor.
Before I could even register how oddly the conversation was unfolding, the Baroness continued, speaking in a rush.
“And while lying in bed, I found solace in reading comics… cough! Thanks to that, even breathing has become enjoyable… cough! So, once I recover my health… cough, cough! …I have resolved to dedicate my body and soul to Duke’s Haunted Manor.”
“Whatttt!?”
Wait, instead of going on a refreshing trip somewhere with her husband once she gets better, she’s going to dedicate herself to Duke’s Haunted Manor?
‘Is she serious?’
But the Baroness was even more serious than I had expected.
“I especially loved the character Benedict’s backstory…”
She suddenly brought up a side character out of nowhere.
Most people only remember the main characters.
However, the Baroness wasted no time in passionately discussing Benedict’s backstory and sharing her thoughts about him.
“How could such a priest exist… cough! Blonde hair, priest robes… and black leather gloves—simply… cough! Absolutely fantastic…”
“Oh, thank you.”
With the Baroness looking at me as if she might die from how much she adored the character, the only thing I could say was a simple thank you.
I was starting to worry she might actually collapse at this rate, given how fervently she was speaking.
I handed her the glass of water from the nightstand and quietly decided to just listen.
‘Maybe she just wanted to talk to someone other than Baron Pavron.’
If that was the case, then I should at least do this much for her.
After drinking the water I gave her, her face looked noticeably more vibrant than before.
And seeing that made me feel oddly pleased as well.
“…So, I was thinking of making Benedict the main character of a side story… cough! …with a slight romance arc involving Nadia… cough, cough. What do you think?”
“Oh, that sounds like a nice idea! A story like that could provide a refreshing change of pace.”
When I agreed, the Baroness’s face brightened, and she nodded enthusiastically.
“Right? Cough…! Then the readers who love that romance line… cough! …would be absolutely thrilled, cough, cough!”
And with a final remark of ‘Just imagining it gives me chills of excitement…,’ the Baroness’s review session of Duke’s Haunted Manor finally came to an end.
A brief silence followed, and I applauded her.
Clap, clap, clap.
‘How should I put it…’
She felt like an undiscovered master storyteller.
No one had ever unearthed her talent, but Baroness Pavron seemed like she had the perfect instincts for a story writer.
But that thought quickly faded as a lingering sense of unease refused to go away, making me tilt my head in confusion.
“Um, by the way…”
Normally, people who are bedridden like this lose their appetite, becoming frail and emaciated.
But Baroness Pavron… looked a little different from what I had expected.
She was coughing and pale, sure—but aside from that, was there anything particularly unusual?
‘Is it thanks to Baron Pavron’s devoted nursing care?’
But if that were the case, wouldn’t she have recovered from a simple illness by now?
“Baroness?”
“Yes? Oh, I’m sorry. I’ve just been talking about myself this whole time.”
“No, it’s not that. I just heard that your condition was critical, so… may I ask exactly what symptoms you’re experiencing?”