When The Count’s Illegitimate Daughter Gets Married

2. Laritte and welcoming winter in the heart of the mountain

As the end of dawn drew near, small cotton-like balls began to fall from the sky. By morning, a thought came to Laritte’s mind when she looked out the window.

“I won’t be able to plant the seeds I bought.”

She let the words flow straight out from her mind.

She bought roots that were tenacious so she could plant them at this time of the year, but it all went to waste as soon as the snow began. She thought of bringing the dirt inside as she moved to the kitchen.

Milk was boiling in the pot she had prepared beforehand and was now emitting steam; she was going to make milk tea.

Foam was floating on top of the milk. Laritte carefully poured the milk into a cup before placing it next to the breakfast she’d prepared in advance.

A gentle aroma filled the warm air. And with that, her milk tea the colour of caramel was easily prepared.

“Hm.”

She silently watched the foam on the tea float around in a counterclockwise direction. Suddenly, she remembered something.

Ah!

Laritte opened the drawer. Amongst the various different spices she’d bought, some coloured sugar was hidden. She used a small spoon to get some of the sugar and added it to the milk tea.

Finally, to finish everything off, she took out a teacup. Nobles of the Iasa Empire drank tea as if it were water. Commoners who saw them do it proceeded to follow in their footsteps. However, Laritte had never made tea before. Wouldn’t she be quite full with this?

Laritte wasn’t able to afford it. The only reason why she prepared all of this was because of the Duke.

Laritte opened the door of the first room to the left of the entrance. The large door to the entrance made a loud sound, proving how old it was. Creaaaak. 

Ian let out restless breaths as he laid ill on the old and shabby bed, the morning sun shining upon him. The bed used to be moldy, although Laritte had managed to restore it quite nicely. That was because she found suitable mattresses and piled them up neatly.

He looked at her with cloudy eyes. She asked him,

“How’s your fever?”

feel a

placed the tea that she brought on the table and rested

a bit better? Are you just bluffing or is this a special characteristic of the

“…… “

painful headache, Ian released a small smile. Of course a noble would give such an answer. It was in their nature to act

the fact that this was the first time they’d met. Laritte hadn’t been aware of it either. Though now she just thought of it as a useless lie. Why would someone who was sick and breathing heavily act

for you to drink the tea with milk

milk she bought was to produce a sauce for dipping bread into. But, she had used all her milk for the milk tea. If she wished to make

It made him feel much better. It was only later that he realized he had

there was milk here was amazing enough. Milk. No matter how chilly the weather was these days, there were still items that would easily spoil. Since the villa was in

“…..Thank you.”

empty teacup. She helped him rest and covered him with a blanket. In other

in this villa, Laritte had always had a tendency to live the way she wanted, which was widely considered to be odd. Someone with no awareness might even say something like ‘Have you seen that

he was a traitor, but she was

open the window for a bit;

felt fresh air on

“Is it raining?”

fall, the

“Snow…….”

not

like

wasn’t close to the capital, he came to play here every spring. The wild flowers grown here were breathtaking and it had also been his

reason was because this was where Selena, his mother and the former Duchess, stayed

least the majority of the day. Even so, she and Ian watched the sky from the front entrance of the home. It was an

as she rested on the rocking chair, watching the snow. Ever since her death, Ian had stopped visiting the villa. It was because every time he went, he was reminded of her empty seat.

time would eventually take care of it and left it to rot.

become an enemy of

he stabbed him in the vicinity of the Western sea. Ian