A Contract Marriage with My Child’s Father Chapter 28

Chapter 28

In truth, Celia had been simmering with anger for quite some time.

No matter where she went, she kept hearing praise for Viola.

A mere commoner who dared to talk back to her at every turn—yet somehow managed to appear sweet and gentle in front of everyone else?

It was obvious.

They had all been deceived by that fake, hypocritical mask.

Even Conrad—sharp-eyed and impossible to win over—had begun shielding that woman.

But Celia’s fury wasn’t born from simple jealousy.

There was a clearer reason.

The Rumor

After Conrad’s warning, Celia had forced herself to lie low.

But then, by accident, she overheard a conversation between two maids.

“You know that squirrel lady…? I heard she might actually be some kind of princess.”

“Really? Lady Viola? Well… I can see it. There’s something untouchably noble about her.”

Squirrel lady?

At first, Celia didn’t know who they meant.

But when Viola’s name surfaced, everything clicked.

She nearly laughed aloud.

A princess? Don’t be absurd.

So not only was that woman pretending to be kind—

She was impersonating royalty now?

That must explain why everyone treated her so well.

An unwed, lowborn mother… a princess? Ridiculous.

And yet—

When Celia forced herself to think about Viola objectively—

Her posture.

Her flawless skin.

Her steady gaze.

The way she spoke without shrinking or stammering.

For a mere commoner…

No.

As much as she despised admitting it—

Viola carried herself with more refinement than many noble ladies.

Her movements were natural.

Her manners effortless.

As though she had grown up surrounded by aristocratic etiquette.

Celia stiffened.

Could she be—

A hidden daughter of some foreign royal family?

The thought unsettled her.

But she quickly dismissed it.

Ignorant maids might be fooled by appearances.

But Celia Dorn—the cherished daughter of a count—would not be deceived.

If Viola dared impersonate royalty, she must have prepared carefully.

She must have studied etiquette.

Crafted a false identity.

Manipulated everyone’s sympathy to eventually seize the position of duchess.

Cunning.

But no matter how much a commoner polished herself—

She could never rival Celia Dorn.

A New Suspicion

Then another thought struck her.

What if being an apothecary is a lie too?

If she could fake royal blood, forging credentials wouldn’t be impossible.

Becoming a licensed healer required immense tuition and years of study.

Medicine and pharmacology were practically monopolized by wealthy noble families.

So how could a poor, abandoned woman afford such education?

It made no sense.

A righteous indignation swelled inside Celia.

She would expose that fraud.

She would rip away the mask.

And when she did—

Surely the Duke would finally notice her.

After all, she would have uncovered a dangerous swindler within the ducal household.

And now—

The opportunity had arrived.

Kain had been staying at the estate recently due to repeated monster waves.

If she acted now, she could distinguish herself.

But proof was needed.

She couldn’t investigate openly—Conrad had been watching her ever since his warning.

Then—

An idea.

Father.

Unlike Viola, Celia had a powerful ally: Count Dorn.

She immediately wrote to him, requesting a discreet investigation into whether any foreign royal families possessed pink hair.

Viola’s hair was rare.

Distinctive.

Surely traceable.

Soon, a reply arrived.

How dare some lowly commoner upset my precious daughter.

Rest easy, my jewel.

I have investigated thoroughly. Aside from the late imperial princess, no royal house—foreign or domestic—possesses pink hair.

Commoners lie as easily as they breathe. I am proud that you saw through it, my clever Celia.

Just as she thought.

The lie was unraveling.

But when she attempted to expose Viola’s healer license—

It turned out to be legitimate.

Verified.

Official.

Impossible.

A commoner passing an examination that many nobles failed?

Had she bribed the examiners?

Celia bent reality to fit her suspicions.

If facts contradicted her belief, then the facts must be corrupted.

The “Evidence”

And then—

Today—

She found what she believed was undeniable proof.

Viola had acquired something called Sweet Reaper Grass.

Not an herb.

A lethal poison.

According to her father, it was a notorious toxin—extremely difficult to neutralize. Fatal if ingested.

A fraud indeed.

Without hesitation, Celia stormed into Viola’s workshop.

“Wh-what brings you here…?”

Viola looked up, startled.

Celia ignored her entirely and strode toward the worktable.

There it was.

The sealed container.

The dark, sinister plant within.

Without gloves.

Without caution.

Without thought—

Celia grabbed it with her bare hand.

“I knew it!”

Poison.

Handled openly in the ducal estate.

Whose life was she plotting to take?

Viola rushed forward, alarmed.

“Wait! Lady Celia, you mustn’t touch that! It’s dangerous—”

Trying to intimidate her?

Celia tightened her grip deliberately.

She would not relinquish this evidence.

“Stop pretending to be kind, you fraud!”

“…Excuse me?”

“I heard everything. This is a deadly poison, isn’t it? And you’re turning it into medicine? Ha! If it weren’t for me, who knows what disaster you would’ve caused? Everyone has been fooled by you!”

Her voice rose triumphantly.

Certain.

Certain she had won.

Unaware—

That she was the one in immediate danger.