Madam and the Stable Keeper (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 16
“Madam Sophia is looking for you.”
Vivian conveyed the message, sounding apologetic.
Edith, who had been reading a book brought from the study, followed Vivian out of the room but noticed something odd.
“There seem to be many unfamiliar servants?”
“You truly have sharp eyes. They’re temporarily hired for convenience, since guests will be staying at the mansion for a few days.”
The newly hired staff, brought in specifically to attend to the guests, were busily inspecting every corner of the mansion to familiarize themselves with its layout.
Watching them, Edith thought to herself.
‘Sophia’s fuss over this event might just be a diversion to hide her embezzlement.’
It was common sense for nobles to thoroughly scrutinize recommendation letters and verify the backgrounds of any new hires.
After all, carelessly bringing in someone of uncertain status could lead to disaster—if someone were assassinated, it would be catastrophic.
But today’s visitor, Guild Master Karckus, must have already received the mansion’s expense report sent by Sophia, so she likely hired extra temporary staff to conceal the inflated number of employees.
“Come in, Edith.”
Unaware of the assumptions Edith was silently making, Sophia welcomed her warmly.
Today, Edith was dressed more elaborately than usual. Sophia felt relieved that Vivian had properly followed her instructions.
“You must be especially careful with your conduct today since we have guests. When there are many people around, just stay quiet and excuse yourself from the gathering.”
“……”
Edith, who already spent most of her time confined to her room, certainly didn’t appreciate Sophia’s suggestion—especially not on a day like today.
“But if the fourth wife of the viscount doesn’t appear at the banquet, the merchants will surely find it odd.”
“I’m not telling you to refuse outright. Just show your face briefly, then pretend you’re unwell and leave.”
As she spoke, Sophia suddenly brightened, as if struck by a brilliant idea.
“Oh! I’ve got a great idea—why not look pale and even pretend to feel nauseous? Like someone who’s already pregnant.”
“……”
Sophia stared pointedly at Edith’s flat stomach. The viscount’s life was clearly waning, yet that cursed belly remained stubbornly flat, filling her with both frustration and impatience.
“According to the original plan, you should be pregnant by now… Could you be barren?”
Edith wanted to rebut Sophia’s sudden accusation of infertility on medical grounds, but she held her tongue.
“It hasn’t even been two weeks since I arrived at the mansion. You know better than anyone that I’m trying.”
“I didn’t mean to imply you weren’t making an effort, Edith.”
Sophia uttered the perfunctory line while recalling Vivian’s report.
“She was so furious she nearly pulled out my hair before finally falling asleep. Honestly, watching her made me fear she might hold a grudge against me.”
Unbeknownst to Sophia, Vivian was actually relaying exactly what Edith had asked her to say.
‘If this woman I went through so much trouble to bring here turns out to be infertile and can’t get pregnant, I’ll have to take other measures…’
Tapping the table lightly with her fingertips, Sophia spoke again.
“In any case, I want you to act as if everyone already knows you’re pregnant. Obviously, no horseback riding or running around. Don’t touch alcohol, and at every meal, act as if you’re feeling queasy.”
“……”
Edith genuinely loathed Sophia for treating her like livestock rather than a human being. She found her utterly contemptible.
Yet it remained an unchangeable fact that Sophia held Edith’s leash.
Given that she had no idea how long this barbaric confinement would last, pretending to cooperate with Sophia was her best option.
“Alright. I’ll do as you say, Sophia.”
Seeing Edith’s obedient response, Sophia let out a sigh of relief.
“Good. Remember, it’s far wiser to focus on your own tasks and secure what you can, rather than waste energy in pointless confrontations.”
While Sophia plotted to deceive everyone using Edith, Isabel was bustling around the hall.
“It’s been a while, Father.”
She greeted Victor with her usual cheerful voice and smile. Still, Victor could instantly sense his daughter’s inner turmoil.
“Isabel… you look a bit pale. Are you alright?”
“……”
“Come here.”
Victor led Isabel to the quarters assigned to him, then ordered his secretary to guard the door before speaking with heavy-hearted concern.
“The viscount must be in very poor condition. Sophia has only informed others that he was in a carriage accident and remains unconscious.”
“Well… actually, it seems even worse than what’s been publicly acknowledged.”
“What?”
“If his condition weren’t serious, his treatment wouldn’t be taking this long. Plus, whenever I ask about the viscount’s health, it’s always Sophia’s trusted physician who gives me answers. I suspect they’re deliberately preventing other physicians from sharing any information with me.”
“……”
Victor gently reassured his daughter, who clearly feared for the life of someone she knew, while thinking to himself.
He understood why Sophia hadn’t disclosed the viscount’s true condition to outsiders.
‘She probably wanted to show that House Portrion remains strong even without him.’
Indeed, if it became known that the viscount was dying without an heir, opportunists would swarm like vultures.
Nicholas Portrion was a man who, when drunk, made absurd promises he could never keep, and he owed considerable debts to acquaintances due to his drinking and gambling habits.
‘Everyone knows Nicholas has no heir… they’ll all rush to reclaim their money before House Portrion collapses.’
But now that he’d heard the viscount’s condition might be far worse than expected—and that his chief wife was concealing this fact—Victor knew he couldn’t stay idle.
“Isabel. Listen carefully.”
“Yes, Father.”
“If your husband, Viscount Nicholas Portrion, should meet misfortune… he loved you as much as his other wives, so he would surely wish for you to receive a fair share of what he built.”
To spare his kind-hearted, gentle daughter unnecessary pain, Victor avoided words like “inheritance” or “division of assets.”
“Father, I’m not a three-year-old child. You don’t need to tiptoe around the truth like that.”
“Hmm. Good, I’m glad you understand. In any case, the viscount would want you to leave the mansion with at least as much as his other wives when the time comes.”
Isabel paused mid-thought upon hearing her father’s words.
“Leave?”
“Isabel, think carefully. The viscount has no heir and four wives. He has no cousins to continue the line, and soon, ruthless creditors will come to seize even this mansion to recover what he owes them.”
“Did the viscount really borrow that much money?”
“Just remember this: an incompetent man who indulges in drink and gambling leaves nothing behind but debt.”
“……”
“In any case, whether you like it or not, you’ll eventually have to leave this mansion. That’s what I’m preparing for.”
Isabel had never once considered the possibility of leaving Portrion Mansion.
As the viscount’s wife, managing the estate and overseeing its affairs was her duty—and until now, Sophia had handled those responsibilities on her behalf.
‘But if the viscount passes away, I might actually be able to leave the mansion?’
Suddenly, Isabel imagined herself departing for the capital. Standing on a grand stage, singing, receiving thunderous applause…
Then, she remembered the note Edith had sent her that morning, delivered by a pigeon.
[If I had a voice like yours, I’d seek the stage myself. It’s such a waste to keep your voice locked away in this mansion, Isabel.]At first, she’d thought it was just a compliment about her singing. But after hearing her father’s words, it seemed Edith had anticipated that the viscount’s wives might soon be forced to leave the estate.
‘She’s been here less than half a month, yet she sees further ahead than I do?’
A flicker of interest lit up Isabel’s eyes.
As dinner time approached, all the mansion’s staff grew frantic. Everyone was overwhelmed—guiding guests, attending to their needs, and preparing the banquet.
Cassius watched the servants scurrying about as if their feet were on fire and chuckled.
“If Madam Sophia saw us now, she’d be furious. ‘The guests are arriving, and you’re wandering off instead of helping?’”
“Do you really think Sophia would look for us unless she’d lost her mind?”
“Well, even if she called desperately, we’d still have to refuse—we’ve got important business ahead.”
Cassius felt oddly moved by his own words.
Soon, he’d see the fruits of his labor: repeatedly scaling the mansion walls in Walter’s place, who couldn’t escape due to the binding magic.
“Walter, you’d better appreciate my efforts. It was no easy task bribing the merchants invited by Portrion and smuggling ‘that person’ in among them.”
“I know you’ve worked hard.”
Walter’s straightforward acknowledgment made Cassius’s nose twitch with emotion.
“Since when do you bother replying to my nonsense?”
“……”
“Guess facing something big really changes a person.”
Instead of answering, Walter strode forward purposefully.
After walking a bit further, they reached the infamous storage building—an old, distant warehouse no one used. Walter knew exactly what Sophia had ordered hidden inside.
Creak—
Upon opening the door, a carriage came into view—the very one the viscount had used to abduct Edith and where he’d later been ambushed.
Cassius lit the lamp he’d brought and asked,
“Walter, why the sudden urge to search the carriage?”
“I’m curious who attacked the viscount and whether he left anything behind.”
Walter took the lamp Cassius offered and began meticulously inspecting every corner of the carriage.
Hearing Walter mention searching for “something,” Cassius grasped his true intention for coming here.
“Right. Whether it’s an object, an animal, or a plant that the viscount brought back—once we find whatever’s tied to your lost memories, we’ll burn it all to the ground.”
“……”
“Didn’t the viscount himself say that doing so might restore your lost memories?”
Walter didn’t deny Cassius’s words.
Male lead reborn without memories — but he still falls for her.
The person he finds displeasing in this life turns out to be his cherished wife-master in previous life…
Xie Zhi and Fang Xianxing who had known each other for less than three days through a blind date sat in the same car in front of the civil affairs bureau. They had a disagreement and failed to get married.
Xie Zhi immediately took out his phone, slid through his contacts, and randomly selected the next marriage candidate.
The woman snatched his phone and hung up. Looking at his phone wallpaper, she awkwardly changed the subject: “An ancient painting, eh? It looks pretty good, it’s just that the person in the painting looks a bit like me.”
When he heard this, he sarcastically mocked her for being so delusional, completely unaware that, the person in front of him was the reincarnation of Wen Ru, the famous prime minister of Yuan Shun whom he most admired…
The female CEO who doesn’t want to get married with a divorce agreement in hand × The male archaeological researcher who will only get married if he’s sure he can get divorced
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