She is the Daughter of the Villainess in a Ridiculous Novel - Chapter 123

“What in the world is this…?”

The nobles covered their mouths with their hands, reeling from the bewildering crossfire between the three candidates.

While the Marquis’s final testament had been shocking enough, the accusations flying between the three potential successors were far more horrifying.

“Th-then, does this mean the rumors we heard just before arriving are true?”

“No, no matter how unconventional the will is, how could they…?”

“Wait a moment! What guarantee do we have that any of this is real? And what about this ‘Cordelia’ mentioned in the will?”

As the crowd buzzed, trying to process the sudden deluge of information, Count Ritz—who had been standing dazed unlike the other nobles—clenched his fists and roared.

“…This is absurd! Beatrice is not ‘Beatrice’? Leo Winston, are you intending to insult the House of Ritz?”

“Insult? Ha, you should say that to your wife. Count Ritz, you consented to the marriage without even properly seeing Lady Beatrice’s face, didn’t you?”

“Th-that’s…”

It was true. At the time, Count Ritz had not agreed to the marriage because he had fallen for ‘Beatrice.’

What he had chosen back then was the power of the House of Grant, which he assumed would naturally follow. That was also the reason the wedding had proceeded with unprecedented haste.

“Even before we formally ousted Victor Grant—the Lord at the time—the clouds of war were circling the House of Grant. You are surely aware by now that Victor Grant rushed his daughter’s marriage to you solely to secure your help later on, aren’t you?”

Hearing Leo’s words, Count Ritz gritted his teeth.

‘How could I not know? Our house took no small hit when the House of Grant collapsed immediately afterward.’

The only saving grace was that his wife, Beatrice, hadn’t burdened him with pleas to save her family.

‘At the time, I thought it was because my weak-hearted wife was bedridden and had no mental energy for it, but…….’

If… if all of that happened because she was a ‘fake’?

“Honey, you don’t actually believe that ridiculous nonsense, do you?”

“Nonsense? Well, every member of the household from Victor Grant’s era has vanished. Furthermore, according to a witness I’ve secured, Beatrice frequently used illness as an excuse to secretly send a lookalike companion in her place to social events. I don’t know if it’s true, but that witness claimed the young lady’s notoriety grew even worse specifically because of that ‘fake.’”

“……”

“In a situation where almost no one knows the truth thanks to the current Marquis, and even Count Ritz didn’t know Beatrice’s face, what thoughts must have crossed your mind—you, who mimicked the young lady on a daily basis?”

Count Ritz’s gaze slowly shifted toward his wife. Standing there with her hands clasped to her chest, she somehow felt like a complete stranger to him today.

“That accident that supposedly occurred under such unfortunate circumstances on the way to the House of Ritz… could it be…?”

“You hit the mark, Count Ritz. The coachman driving the two of them back then… he didn’t die; he’s alive.”

“……”

There was no need to hear anything more. Because of Leo Winston’s words, everything that had seemed suspicious but had been brushed aside until now finally made sense.

“How… could you…!”

“Honey! No! Listen to me!”

Count Ritz’s face, twisted with betrayal, Beatrice’s screams, and the unrelenting attacks from the other two successors were truly fierce.

Amidst the chaos of truths and lies exploding from every direction, the nobles suddenly felt a strange sense of déjà vu.

‘What… what is this? I clearly remember experiencing something this complex and shocking before… Ah!’

The gazes of the nobles shifted all at once to a single person.

Toward Idel Clementine, standing with the priest and holding the will.

Yes—the last time they had been shocked to the point of being unable to breathe was at Idel Clementine’s debutante ball.

The eyes of the nobles watching Idel sparkled for a moment.

‘To think the very place where she reveals her face to society again would turn out like this… She really is a lady who carries a storm with her! If I stay close to her, I might actually stand to gain something!’

‘If she is someone who attracts incidents and accidents, then perhaps the matters involving the Crown Prince as well….’

It was a train of thought completely devoid of logic, but in a shambles like this, anyone’s reason was bound to be paralyzed.

Especially…

—Thump!

“What… what was that sound?”

—Thump, thump!

“…Wait, this… this sound is coming from the coffin!”

—BANG!

“Benjamin Ross, Beatrice Ritz, and Leo…! You… you absolute pieces of filth that I couldn’t even finish chewing if I ate you alive!!”

Especially if the lid of the coffin belonging to the star of today’s funeral was forced open.

“Gasp!”

“Aaaah! Help me!”

The first thing to blanket the funeral hall was a chorus of screams.

The hand bursting through the coffin was terrifying enough, but the fact that the roar striking their ears was unmistakably the voice of the Marquis was paralyzing.

It felt as though the soul of the Marquis, unable to find peace, had manifested before them.

However, the shock of the unexpected situation was short-lived. As people watched the Marquis stand up perfectly fine from the shattered coffin, they gasped for air in unison.

No matter how much they rubbed their eyes and looked, that was a living, breathing Marquis.

“Re-resurrection? Did Marquis Grant just come back to life? Am I seeing this right?”

“Oh my Goddess…”

While the nobles habitually muttered prayers in the face of such an unbelievable scene, Marquis Grant panted heavily, glaring at the three people before him.

“Mar… Marquis…?”

“Uncle? No, no, how is this happening…?”

Seeing the three of them staring at him blankly, the Marquis gritted his teeth once more.

His face, flushed deep red with rage, looked as if it were about to explode at any second.

“I… I felt so wronged that I couldn’t even keep my eyes closed.”

The “Fake Death” Gambit

It turns out the rumor of the Marquis’s death was a masterful ruse orchestrated by Idel and the Marquis himself. This is the ultimate “Gotcha” moment in the story.

The Marquis continued, his voice terrifying as he struggled to suppress his overwhelming rage.

“Not only do you disregard the person I chose and my final testament at my own funeral, but you have the audacity to fight over the Marquisate as you please…? As if you truly expected to seize this seat the moment the service ended!”

“Th-that’s……”

“And what else? The disciple I trusted has been steadily trying to assassinate me; the friend I felt pity and gratitude toward is a ‘fake’… and you, Benjamin, the nephew I looked after as family……”

As the Marquis’s demonic expression fixed on him, Benjamin waved his hands frantically, desperately pleading his innocence.

“N-no, Uncle! That crazy woman is lying just to drive a wedge between our family. How could I ever kill Cordelia, huh? Does that even make sense?”

“……”

“We’re family! Cordelia was always a cute younger sister to me! How could I be so cruel as to, uh… push the child off a balcony? You know how close we were!”

Benjamin was desperate. If he failed to clear his name here and now, he was truly finished. Not only was the Marquis—whom he thought dead—glaring at him with wide, piercing eyes, but there were simply too many witnesses.

Ignoring the cold sweat trickling down his back, he forced his lips into a trembling smile.

“Uncle! We share the same blood! You have to believe me over whatever some unknown fake says! Right?”

Familiar, emotional pleas poured out of Benjamin’s mouth—the same habit he had always relied on. However, that very ‘habit’ became the blow that brought him down at the most critical moment.

“Benjamin.”

“Yes, Uncle!”

“We… have never officially revealed the cause of Cordelia’s death.”

“……What?”

“We only stated that Cordelia died in an ‘accident.’ We never specified what kind of accident occurred. But……”

But how do you know about that?

The Marquis interrogated him in a voice so cold and low, it was as if he had never been shouting at all. The heavy pressure of his presence—a man known for being robust enough to withstand his hair turning white with age—bore down on Benjamin with crushing weight.

Terrified beyond measure, Benjamin fell to his knees before the Marquis without even realizing it, rubbing his hands together in a desperate plea. It was a pathetic sight, but he didn’t care.

“U-Uncle! I was wrong. But I really didn’t mean to kill her! Like you said, it was truly an accident! It just… just happened, somehow…!”

Stripped of any substance, his apology was nothing more than an empty shell.

The Marquis gritted his teeth as he looked down at his nephew, who was confessing his crimes in detail, unable to withstand even this level of intimidation.

“Felix! Remove these people from my sight at once! Throw them all into the Marquisate’s dungeon!”

“Yes, My Lord.”

“Ah, and Count Ritz. I regret to inform you that I will be taking your wife as well for the time being. Surely you also wish to know whose claim is the truth, do you not?”

“……Yes. Please do so.”

Following Count Ritz’s words, which were heavy with sorrow, silence once again enveloped the funeral hall.

It was like a disaster site where only ruins remained after a storm had swept through.