I No Longer Have Love to Offer You - Chapter 34

With Ludovic as an investor, Mirabelle’s project was set into motion. Of course, the support of a single count’s household had its limits, so they would continue seeking new investors. Ludovic had taken charge of that matter.

(Ludovic said I shouldn’t worry since it’s just assistance, but I can’t just leave it at that.)

Even if it wasn’t possible right away, they had to generate profits and give back. Since they were working together as partners, equality was crucial.

(I suppose he thinks of it as compensation since Ricardo never paid alimony.)

With those thoughts in mind, Mirabelle inspected the dormitory alongside the matron.

Today, at last, their first resident would arrive.

“Then we’ll designate this third floor for nobles only, if you please.”

The dormitory was a three-story building. Separating the noble and commoner floors wasn’t about discrimination, it was a measure to prevent unnecessary friction within the dorm.

People grow up the way they’re raised.

In other words, if raised as a noble, one would naturally adopt noble sensibilities and see them as the norm. The same, of course, applied to commoners.

When two people had fundamentally different notions of common sense, debating which was correct was a futile exercise because no matter how far they argued, their lines of reasoning would never intersect.

“The woman arriving today is a former count’s daughter and now a countess. She requested meals and baths to be prepared for her.”

The first client was a woman Mirabelle had known since their school days someone who had come up in her earlier conversation with Pamela. When Mirabelle met her to explain the system, she had been driven to the brink of a breakdown, not just from her husband’s infidelity but also from financial control.

It was Pamela who had reached out to her. She had always been worried about the woman’s situation and hoped it would improve, even just a little. But if the woman herself wasn’t willing, that would have been the end of it. So, Mirabelle had thought the chances of her accepting the proposal were fifty-fifty. Yet, contrary to Mirabelle’s expectations, she had agreed without hesitation.

From now on, she would secretly slip out of her home and come here. For a while, her priority would be recovering her physical and mental health while discussing her future with Kilian.

(She said she’d bring evidence of how she’d been treated… I wonder if she managed to get it out safely?)

During their meetings leading up to today, she had initially kept her head down and spoke in a small voice. Her body was thin, her eyes averted clearly in poor condition. But as she talked with Mirabelle about the future, she gradually stopped looking down. By the last time they met, the dullness in her eyes had given way to a brighter light.

When Mirabelle asked, “Won’t they notice if your expression and demeanor change?” she had simply replied, “Just being at home makes me gloomy, so it’ll be fine.”

Since the count himself seemed to look down on her, he carried on his affairs openly, making evidence-gathering easy. Financially, the budget allotted to her was kept extremely tight, and even that required meticulous accounting before she could use it so there was no shortage of proof.

(And yet, he spent lavishly on his mistresses… What a scoundrel.)

From the moment Mirabelle heard of the count’s misdeeds, her opinion of him as the lowest of men never wavered. She wanted to do everything in her power to help the woman escape.

“Everything seems in order. Let me know if anything comes up.”

“Understood.”

Finding no immediate issues, Mirabelle headed downstairs upon hearing the matron’s reply. The carriage would be arriving soon.

Naturally, using the count’s own carriage would immediately reveal her destination. So, Mirabelle had arranged for a rented one instead.

(Still, she had to make her own way to the meeting point first.)

The time between her leaving the estate and the search beginning was crucial. Every extra moment bought would help ensure things proceeded smoothly.

(Well, the die is cast now.)

The thought only heightened Mirabelle’s tension. She could feel it. What was about to begin would hold great significance in her own life as well.