Chapter 205
Joan Carell's Karma
Just as promised, Connie, in her Swinton disguise returned to the Club on the third day. Upon arrival she saw the figure of Karn Welk, who, for some reason had been bugging her, asking her about Rosanna’s condition every time she showed up. She wondered if the dandy had no other work to do.
“Ah, Mr. Swinton!” the man brightened up upon seeing Swinton’s face. Fortunately, the little Beastfolk named Lia had come to her in time and pulled her in, and quickly escorted her into one of the rooms.
She drank the cup of tea that was offered when Scarlet came in and locked the door behind her.
“I got what you need, Milady” she said as he handed Connie a list of names upon it. “I and the infected girls had listed the guests that they had contact with prior to exhibiting symptoms that you described.”
“I have circled the names of them men that are renowned for changing their girls based on their mood. We haven’t seen them these days. I did some digging myself and found that they were sick. Of course, my contacts did not specify what kind of sickness they were having. But most likely…it is the same disease.”
“Excellent job, Miss Scarlet. Such attention to details makes me want to poach you from the Madame.”
“Haha, you jest.”
“No, I am serious.”
“I appreciate the thought, but I am planning to take Madame Griselda’s position after she retired. I want to make sure that even after she’s gone, those girls who have no other way to survive, will find refuge here.”
“Understandable,” she said as she began poring over the list.
She waited patiently as Connie spotted a few names that were of interest to her. After a while, the Courtesan could not hold back her impatience and asked. “Um, there is one name that…,” the woman was hesitant to finish her sentence, when Connie let out a small laugh.
“Hah. Why am I not surprised?” Connie shook her head when she saw a familiar name. She had put on the details together in her head and formed a hypothesis. “Ah, Joan Carell…it seems that you have met your karma.”
Connie then threw the list into the fireplace and watched as the fire consumed the pieces of paper and reduced them into ash. She then spoke with an edge in her voice. “The list was never made, and you have never talked to anyone about it. This also goes for those you talked to.”
Scarlet saw the seriousness in Connie’s eyes and bowed in understanding.
“It’s good that you understand. As promised, I will do my best in curing your fellow ladies of the night.”
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“Is Illumca back yet?” Connie asked as soon as she was back at the borrowed mansion. She made sure to remove her disguise somewhere out of sight every time she finished her visits.
Martell, who had been training his tea pouring technique under Lihua’s strict tutelage, put down the teapot before bowing to her. “She had not returned today, Mistress.”
“Hmm…I suppose it would just be us tomorrow.”
“Pardon, Mistress? What’s happening tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow afternoon, we’ll be visiting my family’s mansion,” Connie said as she laid her body down on the sofa, crossing her legs up in full defiance of etiquette. “I am looking forward to it.”
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“Shut up! Shut up!”
Sebastian, who was working with the finances of the House in his office, frowned when he heard the noise. He let out a long sigh and pushed his body up with a jerk of his arms, trying to muster the strength to face his daily trials.
He walked past a few windows, the heat telling him of the change in season, and found Julian Carell in the dining room, red onto his neck from huffing in anger. A small maid was cowering in a corner, pieces of broken plate and the red bump on her forehead told of a likely story.
Ever since Joan Carell withdrew into her room, the boy’s tantrum and fits of violence had been increasing in frequency.
“Young Master?” he said. “Is something the matter?”
The chubby boy, dressed in lavish outfit shouted angrily. “I said I don’t want veggies!! I want meat!!”
“But Young Master, The Head Butler said - !” the young maid tried to defend herself, but her effort was rebuffed by a violent smack across her cheek. “How dare you talk back to me, you lowly wench!”
“Calm yourself, Young Master. It is important to eat a balanced diet if you wish to grow big and strong.”
“What?!” the boy threw a contemptuous look at the tired Head Butler and started berating him. The only thing the man could do was bear it.
As the boy was starting to bore of being angry, a servant came in through the open door and announced. “Y-young Master, Lady Cornelia had just arrived at the mansion.”
“She has - ?” Sebastian’s tired face suddenly brightened up. “Clean this up, please. Young Master, let’s greet the Lady.”
“What? Why do I need to greet that useless stepsister of mine?” the boy said with a stomp.
“Er, Mr. Reeves,” the servant blubbered. “The Lady had invited herself in.”
“Pardon?”
A small leg pushed the servant away, followed by its owner, the strawberry-haired Martell. And finally the current Eldest Lady of the Steelheart House.
“It means that I’m already here, Sebastian. Looks like the place has been getting downhill since last time I was here.”
Ten minutes ago.
The Guards of the Steelheart Mansion were having another boring day. As nothing ever happened in the Nobles’ District. Suddenly, a large carriage bearing the Steelheart Family Crest stopped by the gate.
“W-who is that? How dare you use the Steelheart Dukedom Family Crest on your carriage!”
Four Grey Ghosts made two rows in front of the door, the one nearest to the door opened it. Martell jumped down before Connie and Lihua came out.
“Who else dares to use the Family Crest other than the true heir of the Steelheart Dukedom herself?” Martell answered their question haughtily.
“I’m here to visit my home,” Connie said. “Are you, scarecrows, trying to stop me from doing so?”
“N-no. Of course not! Welcome home, Lady Cornelia!”
Akula, who had been watching the scene from the side groaned. “What? Is that all? Not going to resist or anything? What good are you, then?”
The Guards could only smile awkwardly. One glare from the Grey Ghosts and they could already feel the difference in their prowess. Not to mention that they’ve heard of the might of the Lady, who had been commended highly by the illustrious Sabrac the Dragonslayer. How could they, with their meagre skills, dare to stand on their way?
The servants bowed down low when they saw her. The once waste-daughter of the Steelheart family. They knew where the wind was blowing, and realized that their days were numbered if they drew her ire.
Akula walked into the room with wet hooves, her horseshoes leaving deep, mud-encrusted marks in the expensive carpet. On the front lobby. Connie spotted a servant wincing at this.
“Hmm? Is that displeasure I see on your face?” she glared at the servant. Upon which, the servant immediately prostrated in fear. Connie stilled her gaze and spoke. “She will walk inside as she pleases. Muddy horseshoes or not. Is that okay with you?” she asked again, with words dripping with sarcasm.
“N-no, Mistress! It’s my fault.”
“It’s good if you know. Now you, cowering to the side there, lead me to Sebastian.”
The pitiful servant rose and quickly led them further inside.
“It’s rare to see you nitpicking, Mistress,” Lihua said as they walked.
“These servants treated the young Cornelia like dirt when she was young. That was just a small revenge for her sake.”
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“You! What are you doing here?!” Julian glowered at the blonde haired girl standing haughtily over him
“This is my home; I don’t need a reason to be here.”
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“No! This my home, not yours!” the boy cried out angrily using a childish reasoning and attempted to kick her in the shin. However, Connie’s bones that could bend iron did not move the slightest and Julian fell on his butt.
“It seems that your mother hasn’t taught you well. Come here!” With a practiced move that she had honed from chasing around Baoli every time she stole sweets from their sweets jar, Connie grabbed Julian by the ankle and placed him on her knees, raised her hand, and slapped his butt fiercely.
“Don’t! Talk! To! Your! Elders! Like! That!” Each word was punctuated by a spanking of the butt, so fierce that anyone who heard it would wince.
After it was done, the boy was reduced to a sobbing mess. “Go to your room and stay there!”
“I’ll tell on you! I’ll tell on you to Mom!” the boy cried between hiccups.
“Ann, please take the Young Master to his room,” the Head Butler said to a young servant. She immediately rose from her corner and took him into her embrace and almost ran away from the dining room.
“What a little brat,” Martell sighed. Julian was not much younger than him, yet even he was amazed at how unapologetically spoiled the boy was.
“Milady,” Sebastian began. “Are you here for Lady Carell?”
“Yes. I’m here to check up on her.”
“That’s…good, ever since her situation took a turn, Young Master had not visited her. She’d be delighted to see you.”
“Let’s not try to make things sound amiable between that bitch and I, Sebastian. I’m only here to see if I can create a cure for her disease.”
Sebastian smiled awkwardly upon her answer. “I…I understand, Milady.”
“This man is Sebastian, then?” Lihua scanned the man in front of him with a frown. “Hmm…how unimpressive.”
“Milady, this woman is…?”
“This is Lihua, you can call her Madam Sui. She’s my Head Maid. As well as a member of my party.”
“Sebastian, Sebastian, this one had wanted to meet you ever since this one heard about you. Thank goodness you didn’t choose to serve the Mistress. You won’t survive a day,” the woman smiled cryptically.
“Alright, no need to hound the poor man. I don’t want to waste any more time here than needed. So, Sebastian, I’m gonna need you to bring me to Joan as soon as possible.”
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Sebastian brought her, Martell, and Lihua up to the second floor, where the family’s bedrooms were. Akula chose to stay downstairs as the architect of the building did not account the possibility of a Centaur using the stairs. The old Head Butler attempted to engage her in a conversation on the way, pointing out odd scratches that Cornelia had made in her young age, and stories of old times when she was but a baby in the bairn.
However, Connie did not have any sentimental attachment to the house or to any of the stories he told as she was not Cornelia, and simply let the man speak to deaf ears.
Then, they arrived at a bedroom that used to be Cornelia’s parents’ bedroom.
Even before the door opened, she could sniff that something wasn’t right. And indeed, the moment the door was opened, the putrid smell of human waste mixed with heady perfume and the acidic smell of vomit and bile assaulted them. Martell, who had the most powerful nose between them, immediately retched and ran out to the nearest window and spewed his insides. Lihua simply covered her nose daintily with her sleeves, taking a few steps in retreat.
“Why is it so dark in here?”
“The Healers we contacted said that we should not open the windows, otherwise, the outside air will worsen her condition.”
“Hmm, I see.”
Utter nonsense. If any of them knew anything about medicines, they would have opened the windows and let fresh air in, not letting everything be dark and cooped up here, as the smell intensified inside this wretched pool of unpleasantness.
And Connie was not nice enough to tell them that.
The only thing allowing them to see inside being a few candles propped up on silver candle stands. And right in the middle was a luxurious bed were something that was writhing and moaning weakly.
Connie strode forth and saw the pitiful thing lying on the bed that used to be the darling of the High Society, Joan Carell. She beheld her ugly, pustule ridden body with a look of satisfaction. Her luxurious head of hair reduced to a few strands of hair growing over open wounds; along with deep, open mass of ulcers that looked as if worms had burrowed into her head and ate through the scalp. Her long, proud nose was nowhere in sight, as what was there now was a stub of brown, wet growth that oozed green liquid. Like rotting meat upon a butcher’s bin.
“Joan Carell,” Connie pronounced the name slowly and deliberately, “How’s life been treating you?”
The woman sucked in air to speak, and as she did, the open lesions on her nose stung her.
“Why…are you…here?”
“I’m here because Sebastian wanted me to check on you.”
“I don’t…need you…!”
“Stop me then.”
Lesions that smelled of the grave riddled her face, down to the neck, and onto her breasts, every movement of hers causing the exposed muscles to visibly tense. A pathetic attempt at bandaging the wound had caused the wet wound to worsen. Connie wondered if it was done by the servants.
Unceremoniously, Connie threw the blanket covering her body away, exposing even more of her condition. A waft of unpleasant stech singed her nose with its sting as soon as she did so.
“You..whore…! What…is…the meaning…of this?!”
“Tsk, tsk, tsk. That’s not nice,” she sighed, eyes staring at the woman lying on the bed helplessly. “Then again, you’ve never been nice. A woman with a heart as wretched as a sewer rat, and now, your appearance reflected that heart of yours. That no one would want to touch you, even your own son.”
Connie’s eyes slowly went through all the signs on Joan’s body with clinical professionalism.
Sign of necrosis had appeared on her joints. Her left little finger had gone and its stub had darkened into the colour of charcoal. Bumps had formed on the legs, with a few having recently burst, perhaps from careless movements. They were accompanied by lesions that bore deep into her tissue; with some seemingly having reached to the bones.
Late stage Syphilis, with signs that spoke of additional diseases. But how could it advance so fast in just within a few months?
Connie put on a thin glove and placed her hand on her stomach, prodding slightly at certain points on her chest. Her body was cold to the touch.
“What…are you doing…!” Joan Carell protested when she felt like something was invading her body. “Unhand…me…!”
“Can’t find out what’s wrong with you if I don’t see the whole picture.”
However, she had not the strength to move her and could only watch as the woman she hated withdrew her hand with a contemplative look.
“You’d all better move back if you still wish to keep your lunch inside you,” Connie spoke, as she walked out, urging her companions to move back.
Sebastian was flabbergasted by the non-reaction of the young woman and looked hopeful.
“How is it, Milady?”
“It’s undoubtedly the Infidelity Disease. The worst one I’ve ever seen.”
“You’ve seen it before, Milady?”
“Hum, yes,” Connie said, not missing a beat. “I have a subordinate who had reported such illness in detail to me. Sebastian, how could you let her condition deteriorate so much?”
“…ever since the illness worsens, the Lady had refused to be seen by others, this includes the Healers and the Alchemists I’ve tried to invite. But even then, we could not invite the best, as the finance of the household is rather…dire.”
“From misuse, no doubt. Have you tried Clerics?” Lihua asked. “This one heard they are well suited for such illness.”
“Unfortunately, this kind of illness is seen as a divine punishment. So, the Clerics refuse to even come near.”
After a few minutes of deliberation, Connie said. “I wish to speak with Lady Carell in private.”
“Milady, I think it’s better that I stay with you.”
“Oh? What are you worrying about, Sebastian? That I would hurt the woman in her hour of weakness?”
“N-no, Milady! I would not dare - !”
“I jest, Sebastian,” she said with a mean-spirited smirk. “The name of the illness is Infidelity Disease. You know what it implies, right? Oh, Julian could come, if he so wished.”
Julian, who had been sneaking a peek from a corner immediately scampered away upon hearing his name being called. The sting of Connie’s spanking made him wince as he ran.
Knowing that he could not move Connie’s decision, the man relented.
Once again, Connie entered the room. When she heard the door closing behind her, Connie waved her arm and the wooden chair next to the dresser flew up to her hand. She put the chair down and sat upon it, crossing her legs with an exaggerated motion, and lounged back lazily.
This show of power stupefied Joan, who had only ever seen her stepdaughter as a failure.
“Isn’t it funny? This…fate of yours?” Connie began. “You tricked my father to leave you everything that he has, so that you could revel in your debauchery with no care in the world. Now, look at you. The once beautiful lady of liberal love, drowning in her debauchery, is now stewing in her own filth.”
“Guh…eggh,” the woman tried to speak, but the, Ulcers inside her throat caused a stinging pain every time she spoke. She tried to speak twice before giving up.
“Do you know what’s happening to you? Let me list them off. Fluid build-up in the lower abdomen and your left leg, the white of your eyes turning yellow...” a small scoff escaped Connie’s lips as she spread her Energy across the ailing woman’s body. The woman felt a foreign sensation invading her body, but could do nothing to resist. “This is not just an Infidelity Disease, you also have several other ailments ravaging your body, aside from your organs starting to fail from neglect,” she spoke with a level tone – clinical almost – as she pointed out everything that was happening inside her.
Then she spotted a certain poison lying within. The Black Widow's Lament. Only a small trace of it was remaining. Ah, then my hypothesis is correct.
“Your body is failing, and you just don’t have anyone who understand what’s happening, because you are afraid that people would see your disfigurement. Sealing your fate as a result. All in the name of…vanity,” Connie spoke dispassionately. “Don’t mistake my words for a threat. I speak only facts. You are dying. I’d give you a week, two at the most, before you expire.”
“Haha…hahahaha…!” the woman laughed. “Gloat…all you like…but you will never…have…what is rightfully my son’s…!”
“Ah yes… that’s a good plan. If your death comes a few years after he has come of age. But at this point in time, have you ever wondered if the news of your death reached your relatives? That’s something to consider, isn’t it?” She gave her a sardonic smile. “I’ve done a fair bit of digging. An uncle debt ridden from excessive gambling. A cousin who had a failed business due to being found out replacing his goods with inferior ones, and some more unpleasant stories. Oh, yes, they are all cut from the same cloth as you.”
At the mention of her distant family, the woman mustered all her strength and struggled to sit up.
“Don’t you dare…! Hurt him!” After she finished growling those words, she fell back unto her damp bed and breathed painfully.
“Hurt him?” Connie recoiled with an offended frown. “Unlike you, I have morals. I won’t do anything to a child, no matter how insufferable he is,” she said. “But by your reaction, you know full well what they can and will do to a young boy like him when they have guardianship over his…properties,” Connie scoffed. “Of course, I don’t have to tell you that. After all, you did it to me. Accidents happen. You know that very well.”
That was one of the reasons why Joan distanced herself from her relatives upon her marriage into the Steelheart Family. Those vultures would sell their own blood and flesh for Gold. She knew that Connie’s words speak the truth. Tears fell from her eyes out of desperation and anger.
“You can also try to reach out to all your connections. But I doubt any of them would even think about helping you. After all, all the friendships that you built and fostered, all of them are based on profits. If there is no profit to be had, then they will not come. Unless you are willing to bet your son’s fate against their kindness.”
“What…is it…” she groaned as the anger and the pain began to colour her mind with red. “That you want…?!”
Connie stood up from her seat and bent down until Joan could see the eyes of the Steelheart scion; they gleamed like a serpent’s in the gloom. “Everything. And by that, I mean everything. Not just what is owed to me, but also, everything that you have. Including information on Gladstone.”
Her blurry eyes widened upon hearing the name.
“Yes, I know of your connection with that family. You are also free to try and call upon them, if you can. But think again, has that man ever reached out to you ever since you secluded yourself in this room? Are there even flowers sent to you in sympathy from him, or all those who you have fucked? You are alone, Joan Carell, because of mistakes that are your own.”
Connie saw the grim realization upon her eyes and the tensing on her neck from the exposed muscles.
“Give me what I want, and in exchange, I promise you that I will provide for your son, enough to live comfortably, until he comes of age.”
Despair and fearful thoughts made the disease riddled woman’s chest went up and down rapidly in stress.
“Don’t let your hate affect your decision. For it will decide the fate of your child.”
Connie then blew onto the face of the woman, releasing a powerful Sleeping Poison.
“For now. I offer you a brief respite.”
A powerful drowsiness came over her and sleep, blessed sleep, took her away from her pain. If only for a moment.
After Connie ascertained that the woman was fast asleep, Connie took out her needles and vials. “Let’s not forget what I came here for,” she said, before jabbing the needles into her body.