Count Baritone had left her his entire collection of jewelry.
Marquis Brandt had bequeathed her all of his wealth.
But in both cases, their families had ensured she received nothing.
What would Iris do?
Would he, too, allow everything to be swept away and cast her out?
If that was to be the case, she would rather be sent home now without any promises.
But there was no way she could say that to a man on his deathbed.
So she simply smiled gently and said,
“I will accept it, no matter what. Thank you. Please rest easy, Your Grace.”
Two days later, the duke passed away peacefully.
Cornelia mourned him deeply.
She was now a widow for the third time.
Though her time with him had been brief, she had come to see him as a father figure.
Unlike before, Iris did not immediately send her away.
He allowed her to attend the funeral as a family member and remain in mourning at the estate for a full month.
During that time, they spoke often of the late duke, comforting one another.
Then, one day, a month after the duke’s passing, Iris summoned Cornelia to his room.
“I have my father’s will here. You are mentioned in it.”
Iris spoke with a solemn expression.
Unlike before, it seemed he would not disregard his father’s final wishes.
That alone was enough for Cornelia.
She was simply relieved to know that Iris was not the kind of man who would greedily hoard an inheritance and reveal an ugly side of himself.
“The duke told me he had one last gift for me. But I understand my position—I am merely an unofficial wife. I have no right to inherit anything. Please feel free to discard that part of the will.”
She had never intended to accept anything.
Even if she did, her father would only take it from her the moment she returned home.
It was enough for her to know that Iris was an honorable man.
But upon hearing her words, Iris frowned, looking troubled.
“O-Of course, the choice is yours. You may refuse if you wish… but if possible, I would like you to accept it.”
“?”
Cornelia tilted her head in confusion.
Perhaps it was not money or valuables, but a sentimental keepsake?
“If it is something you do not want, I will accept it.”
“It’s not that I don’t want it… but it may be an inconvenience to you. Still, I would be happy if you accepted it.”
An inconvenience?
Could it be some kind of burden, like a failing business venture?
Cornelia grew wary.
“What exactly did the duke leave me?”
Iris took a deep breath, as if steeling himself, then read from the will.
“‘To my beloved Lady Cornelia, I leave my foolish son, Iris. Please accept him.’”
“…”
Cornelia stared at him in stunned silence.
“…What?”
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