I Don’t Know the Original, I’m Too Busy Trying to Make a Living

Susan couldn’t utter a single word in the face of Baron Dot’s volcanic rage. Her spirit had completely crumbled.

She had already been ostracized from high society. For the rest of her life, she wouldn’t be able to use her noble title with any semblance of pride.

‘If I’d known it would come to this, I should have taken the money I stole from the gambling house and fled.’

But it was too late for regrets. Even the empty shell of her honor had been utterly shattered.

After the trial had concluded, Baron Dot brought his daughters to the waiting room. Inside, Penelope, Ahwin, Rianel, and Ivetta were waiting for the sisters.

The moment Baron Dot saw Rianel, he bowed deeply in gratitude.
“Your Grace, thank you so much for rescuing my daughters from the kidnappers. In doing so, you’ve saved my life as well.”

“You don’t need to thank me. It was only what I had to do,” Rianel replied humbly.

Baron Dot, moved by his words, said, “In my heart, I want to kill those scoundrels with my own hands. But watching them toil and die in the mines will suffice.”

In the Empire, 20 years of hard labor was practically a death sentence.

Especially in the mines, where most didn’t survive past ten years. If one was particularly unlucky, they could even fall prey to beasts lurking in the tunnels. In many ways, hard labor was a punishment harsher than death.

Baron Dot’s gaze shifted to Ivetta, who flinched under his stare. After a moment of hesitation, he let out a heavy sigh.
“Ivetta, I hear you’re a friend of my daughters. May I speak to you informally just this once?”

“Of course. Please feel free,” Ivetta replied.

“You must have had a hard life.”