Apparently, I’m a Poisonous Woman Who Sells One-Night Dreams, but I Ended Up Awakening a Hero’s Devoted Love - Chapter 1.14

“Is she always like this?”

When I asked Clemence while watching Mariadoll writhing painfully in bed, I got a flat “Yes” in response.

As if competing with Clemence who had positioned himself beside the bed with a chair, I sat down on the bed, which creaked and tilted Mariadoll’s body slightly.

Clemence carefully wiped the sweat flowing from her forehead.

A thin, painful breath escaped from her slightly parted lips.

When I heard she’d be bedridden for three days, I thought she’d simply be sleeping.

But the Mariadoll before me was suffering from a high fever.

Where’s the poisonous woman in this? Isn’t she a saint who dedicates herself to others, even at her own expense?

I first noticed something strange in the evening party’s garden.

I never imagined she’d demand compensation for her people’s livelihood as a condition.

That devoted attitude probably made her more suited to be a lord than any other noble.

And she’s just an eighteen-year-old girl.

She likely never received any lord’s education, yet she’s desperately trying to protect her people.

Moreover, she shows no attachment to her noble status.

Is this the woman who supposedly ingratiates herself with widowed men and exploits them?

No matter how I think about it, it doesn’t make sense.

So, testing her, I touched Mariadoll’s earlobe while saying I’d remove her earrings.

Just that alone made her blush all the way to her neck.

What’s with this innocent reaction? It’s like she’s a sheltered young lady who’s never been touched by a man.

Could something like this really ensnare a man old enough to be her father?

Furthermore, when leaving, she was having wine poured on her and being cursed at by the daughter of Marquis Haren.

I could have helped immediately, but I wanted to observe for a while to see her true nature.

Though it’s awkward to say myself, I’m handsome. There was a possibility she was pretending to be innocent to get close to me.

But I soon realized that thought was mistaken.

Mariadoll didn’t defend herself at all.

Even with wine poured on her and being hit, she kept begging them to trust Marquis Haren.

The fan was raised high again.

Mariadoll didn’t try to avoid it, only shrinking into herself.

Unable to ignore it any longer, I intervened and refused her ridiculous offer to return by hired carriage, half-forcing her into my own carriage.

What I saw at her residence was a modest life almost like a commoner’s.

Is this the life of a woman who supposedly targets inheritances and becomes mistresses to widowers?

Moreover, her servants adore her, and they were genuinely happy when they learned about our engagement.

At this point, there’s no mistake. The rumors about her being a poisonous woman are lies.

However, it’s true she regularly visits men who’ve lost their wives.

In fact, I overheard a conversation in the garden about her spending a night with Marquis Haren.

Holding onto my doubts, I couldn’t suddenly barge in late at night and overstay, so I left the gallery that day.

Our next meeting was at the scene of a theft case I was sent to handle instead of the third captain.

Seeing her talking familiarly with Cobalt Drolly, I remembered that Viscount Cobalt had also lost his wife.

Why did I feel slightly irritated seeing them talking intimately while looking at a painting Mariadoll had drawn?

As if deliberately warning him off, I put my arm around Mariadoll’s waist and announced I was her fiancé.

Just as I was wondering what look Viscount Cobalt would give me, he went and shook my hand.

As I stood dumbfounded while he pumped my hand up and down, he began speaking volubly.

So there really seems to be some reason why Mariadoll regularly visits men’s rooms.

Making a mental note that I needed to hear this properly from her own mouth, when I asked Mariadoll why she came here, she said it was to sell jewels and paintings.

Jewels passed down through generations of the baron family, and paintings that could be called mementos.

Is she saying she’ll sell them for her people?

How much of a pushover can she be? By this point, I was getting angry.

She’s far too indifferent to herself.

Too kind to others.

When I forcibly brought her back to the ducal house and questioned her, she finally told me the truth.

I no longer thought her downcast, pained expression was an act.

Though it was an unbelievable story, everything made more sense if I believed it.

Unconsciously, my hand reached for her hair.

When I embraced her slender body as she shed tears, she told me everything as if vomiting it out.

How much has this small shoulder been carrying until now?

To such a woman, I asked her to play the role of temporary fiancée and even to spread bad rumors.

I thought perhaps it would be better to cancel the engagement talk, but then I remembered our exchange condition.

She entrusted her people’s future to me.

If I void the engagement talks, it’s obvious Mariadoll would be troubled.

Then there’s no helping it.

As a small apology, I decided to take over the problems currently facing her territory.

I told Mariadoll it was an advance investment, and that wasn’t a lie.

But setting that aside, I found myself wanting to help her.

After actually looking through the territory management documents, I understood how much effort she’d made despite her strained finances.

From my perspective, selling the merchant house first was a bad move, but considering it was the decision of a fifteen-year-old girl who knew nothing about territory management, it couldn’t be helped.

In such cases, the head of household would negotiate with acquaintances or the state for funds, but Mariadoll has no such connections.

The butler handles the details well, but he’s just a butler. He’s not in a position to borrow money from nobles.

Looking at the documents showing her modest accumulated efforts, it seemed to reflect her true character.

Indifferent to glamorous fame or luxurious dresses, living solely for her people.

Wondering how she could be like that, I reached one conclusion.

Perhaps those very people are the memento she inherited from her deceased parents.

She must think she should treasure that memento more than her father’s keepsakes.

If she entrusted such important things to me, then I must be quite trusted.

Mariadoll seems to think I’m a pushover, but I don’t want to hear that from her of all people.

It’s a miracle she hasn’t been caught by bad men until now.

I’m not the type to believe in gods, but I felt like thanking whatever unseen forces there are.