After years spent conversing with two elderly noblemen, Cornelia had gained wisdom beyond her years. She had come to understand the world’s injustices and grown into a remarkably perceptive woman.
To her, the so-called “adults” around her now seemed like nothing more than selfish, greedy children.
“More importantly, Father—what happened to the betrothal sum from Marquis Brandt? I specifically requested that it be entrusted to my mother. And yet, she seems to be living quite modestly.”
Cornelia’s mother stood at the entrance, dressed in the same worn gown she had worn when sending Cornelia off to her second marriage.
In stark contrast, the first wife and Gerbera were clad in luxurious attire. Even the second wife was dressed better than her mother.
Their home was newly adorned with expensive furnishings, and even her father wore an extravagant gold-embroidered jacket.
“Ah… well, you see, I invested in a new business venture. My apologies, Cornelia, but once it succeeds, I’ll repay you several times over. Just be patient.”
She had expected as much.
“And with Gerbera’s wedding, we had a lot of expenses. I hope you understand.”
Gerbera had married Hans the previous year, and it was clear that a great deal of money had been spent on their grand celebration.
Today, Gerbera had even returned from her husband’s estate to welcome Cornelia home.
“I’m sorry, Cornelia. But if I had a small dowry, I wouldn’t have had a strong position in my new home. So, Father agreed to let me borrow from your betrothal sum until his business takes off. Please forgive me.”
Without a hint of remorse, her father and Gerbera spoke as if this were the most natural thing in the world.
Behind them, Cornelia’s mother stood, her head lowered, on the verge of tears.
Cornelia no longer felt anger.
She accepted her life with a detached indifference.
Perhaps, after watching two men pass away before her eyes, she had become disillusioned with the very notion of life itself.
“Now then, Cornelia. Because of your growing reputation, we have already received several marriage proposals for you.”
Her father spoke while carefully observing her reaction.
“This time, it’s truly remarkable. We have offers from counts and marquises, but—get this!—the Duke of Spencer himself has proposed marriage.”
Beaming with pride, her father looked at her expectantly. Cornelia returned his gaze with an icy stare.
“A marriage to a duke—how wonderful, Cornelia! You’re making waves in high society. They even call you ‘The Widow Who Sends Husbands to Their Graves’ now!”
Gerbera spoke excitedly, as if bestowing the title upon Cornelia was a grand honor.
“The Widow Who Sends Husbands to Their Graves…”
Did they truly believe she would be happy to hear that?
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