MLHBMH 13

Chapter 13

Countess Valliman (2)

Exactly one hour later, Lily stood before the drawing room door.

Truthfully, she would’ve preferred to come even later, but that would’ve made it too obvious she was stalling on purpose. Coming now—just late enough to be noticed, but not to be accused—felt like the perfect balance.

Knock, knock—

No sooner had she knocked than the door opened. It was Samantha.

“Come in, dear.”

Her voice was polite, but her eyes were a storm—anger and irritation mixed into one sharp glare.
If the Countess hadn’t been inside, Lily was certain Samantha would’ve grabbed her by the hair already.

That only proved how much she had suffered at the hands of Countess Valliman. Far from offended, Lily found it oddly satisfying. She smiled sweetly and apologized.

“Forgive me for being late, Mother.”

“Oh, nonsense. I quite enjoyed spending a little extra time with the Countess. Such delightful company, truly. Heehee.”

The forced smile trembled on Samantha’s lips. Even her laugh sounded brittle.

“Now, now—come in, dear.”

Practically pushed through the doorway, Lily stopped short when she saw the woman seated on the sofa.

A woman with vivid red hair.

That was Countess Valliman.
Lily had seen her only once before—at the wedding reception—but she remembered her face perfectly.
How could she not? The woman had spent her wedding night in Lily’s husband’s bed.

“…It’s been a while, Countess.”

Lily made no effort to hide her dislike, but the Countess only smiled brightly, as if oblivious.

“Indeed. I think the last time was your wedding reception… Why haven’t I seen you at any social gatherings since then?”

Lily stayed silent.
It was true—she’d avoided most social events after that night. Partly because of the betrayal of so-called friends, but mostly because of Frederick’s affairs.

Thanks to him, she’d been branded with all sorts of vile nicknames—
‘A wife lower than a mistress,’ ‘a parasite clinging to her husband,’ and worse.
She had no desire to attend events where people whispered behind her back.

And now, hearing that question from one of the culprits behind those rumors—Lily almost laughed from disbelief.

“Oh, our daughter-in-law is a bit shy,” Samantha interjected quickly. “She doesn’t really enjoy those sorts of gatherings. But next time, I’ll take her myself—please send the invitations to me.”

“That won’t be necessary,” said the Countess smoothly.

Samantha’s smile faltered.

“The lady herself doesn’t wish to attend, so I can’t force her. When she feels ready, she can contact me directly. The circles I attend are quite refined—only those with proper qualifications may enter, you understand.”

Even though her son had married into the Benjamin family, Samantha’s status remained that of a commoner.
Frederick had entered the family as a son-in-law, not as an heir who could elevate his kin.

The Countess had aimed precisely for that sore spot, and Samantha’s face stiffened. Her tightly pressed lips trembled with restrained anger.

“Y-yes, of course. I understand perfectly. Well then, I’ll leave you two to talk.”

Unable to retaliate, Samantha all but fled the room.

Lily clenched her hands to keep from doing the same.

The atmosphere was suffocating. While Lily stood awkwardly, the Countess radiated effortless composure.

“Don’t just stand there. Sit,” the Countess said, lifting her coffee cup.

Anyone walking by would think this was the Valliman mansion, not the Benjamin estate.

Lily held back a dry laugh. “I’m fine standing.”

She had no desire to sit across from her husband’s lover and make small talk.

“I heard you wanted to see me,” Lily continued coldly. “Please get to the point.”

“My, so cold,” the Countess said lightly. “I haven’t even finished my coffee, and you want to send me away already?”

“You’ve been drinking it for over two hours, Countess. If it takes that long to finish, perhaps you’d be more comfortable continuing at your own home.”

“I waited two hours for you, yet you can’t spare even a few minutes?”

Lily’s lips tightened. Why won’t she just say what she came for?

At this point, curiosity outweighed irritation. With a small sigh, she sat down opposite the Countess.

“Well then. What is it you wanted to say?”

“Isn’t it fascinating?”

“…What is?”

“You and I,” said the Countess, resting her chin on one hand, eyes gleaming with amusement.

“We’re such an unlikely pair, yet here we are—sitting together, talking like old friends.”

Who forced me to sit, exactly? Lily thought dryly.

And then—“An unlikely pair”? The phrasing pricked her nerves.

“Don’t misunderstand,” the Countess said quickly, seeing Lily’s expression. “I only meant that we’re alike, you and I—both used and discarded by Lord Benjamin.”

Lily froze.
She had suspected as much, but hearing it aloud—hearing it phrased that way—filled her with disgust.

“You have a rather unpleasant way of speaking, Countess.”

“Oh dear, do I? I only meant we share a similar misfortune. Still, if it offended you, I apologize.”

It was an empty apology, clearly meant to provoke. Lily stood.

“If that’s all, I’ll be going.”

“Wait.”

The Countess set a book down on the table.

The title was familiar—Lily had translated it herself six months ago.

“You’re the translator of this novel, aren’t you?”

“…You already know that. Why ask?”

“Ah, just wanted to confirm. Don’t mind me.”

Then don’t say it, Lily thought irritably.

She glanced at the book again. The original had been written in Gartan, the language of the Kingdom of Herta—a nation famed for its love of art and literature. Lily still remembered how much she’d enjoyed that project.

But now, even that pleasant memory felt tainted just by seeing the Countess touch it.

“Was there something wrong with my translation?” she asked flatly.

“On the contrary! It was excellent. In fact, I’d like your help.”

“My help?”

What could this woman possibly need from her?

The Countess smiled. “You know our family deals in the iron trade, yes?”

“Of course.”

How could she forget? That was why Frederick had chosen the Countess over her that night—to secure business with the Valliman family.

“We’re planning to expand into the Herta Kingdom, but it’s difficult to find anyone fluent in Gartan. So, would you be willing to help us?”

“I decline.”

The answer was immediate. Working for her husband’s mistress was unthinkable.

The Countess only chuckled. “Even if I pay you one gold per document?”

“…!”

Lily’s eyes widened.

She currently earned ten shillings per translated page. One gold was ten times that amount.

There had to be a catch.

As if reading her mind, the Countess said smoothly, “It’s nothing shady. You’d simply translate documents—letters from Herta into our language, and ours into Gartan. The volume might be heavy at first, but nothing beyond what you handled in that novel.”

It was… tempting.
More pay for the same work.
And she did need money—especially for her mother’s hospital bills. Depending on Frederick for everything made her feel sick.

“If you don’t want to live your whole life leeching off Lord Benjamin,” said the Countess softly, “you should consider this. A career with the Valliman family would open many doors for you later.”

Lily said nothing.

Every word made sense—but still, she couldn’t accept it.

Her pride, battered though it was, refused to bend.

“I’ll pass.”

If she lost even that last shred of dignity, she knew she’d fall apart completely.

“Well then, that’s unfortunate.”

The Countess didn’t look disappointed at all. She rose gracefully, smoothing her skirts.

“I won’t insist. I don’t like to seem desperate. But you’ll accept my offer soon enough.”

With that, she turned toward the door, leaving Lily staring at her retreating figure—anger and unease twisting together in her chest.