I Became the Only Cure for My Dying Husband - Chapter 1

Chapter 1.1

Count Clark had three daughters.

The eldest was Laura Clark, who was the spitting image of her father.

Then came Leslie Clark, the sharp-minded second daughter.

And finally, the youngest, Edith Clark.

Count Clark cherished Laura, his firstborn, and adored Leslie enough to consider her his successor.

But what about the youngest, Edith Clark?

“Do you know what time it is? Can’t you even show up to dinner on time?”

“…I’m sorry.”

“Tsk. Sit down.”

Unlike her two older sisters, who grew up basking in their father’s affection, Edith was constantly mistreated.

She was the count’s only blemish—a disgraceful reminder of his infidelity.

A child born out of wedlock, used as leverage by the second wife, who had eventually wormed her way into the count’s family.

Edith and her mother were outcasts in the household.

The count was displeased with Edith, a living symbol of his shame. The countess despised her, and Laura and Leslie loathed her.

An illegitimate child. A leech. A worthless freeloader.

That was Edith Clark.

“How could you raise her so poorly? She doesn’t even know basic manners.”

The count said, clicking his tongue in disapproval. Edith’s mother twisted and pinched her side under the table.

Edith swallowed the cry that threatened to escape.

“I’m sorry. I’ll make sure she learns proper manners after dinner.”

“Tsk. See to it that she doesn’t bring shame to the family.”

“Of course. Don’t worry.”

Despite her sugary tone, she shot Edith a sharp glare, silently commanding, Don’t you dare drag me down with you. Behave yourself.

‘I’m probably the only one who has to tread so carefully, even with my own mother.’

If this were a fairy tale, her fairy godmother would’ve come to her aid, and a handsome prince would rescue her.

But unfortunately, this wasn’t a beautiful fairy tale, and Edith wasn’t the protagonist.

She was just the mistreated illegitimate child, destined to become the villain who would one day be defeated by the true heroine.

“Edith Clark.”

“Yes, sir?”

Edith turned to face the count. Her eyes trembled with anxiety.

The count had never recognized her as his child, so he never allowed her to use the Clark name.

So why now…?

Everyone at the table sensed something was amiss and watched the count closely.

“A marriage proposal has come for you.”

Clang! The knife slipped from Laura’s hand, clattering noisily to the floor.

“M-marriage proposal? You must be joking! A proposal for that wretched illegitimate child? She’s more likely to be sold off!”

Laura jumped up from her seat, shouting in a voice full of disbelief.

“If a proposal came, it should’ve been for me—!”

“It’s from the House of Duke Frost. They wish to marry their young lord to Edith.”

“…So it really is for Edith.”

Laura composed herself and slowly lowered herself back into her seat. A smirk twisted her lips as she glanced at Edith.

Her eyes gleamed with malice.

“Congratulations. You two truly make the perfect match.”

“Well, this is something to celebrate! My daughter, the future lady of a ducal family! Oh, Edith, can you believe it?”

Was her mother really that oblivious? Edith sighed.

“The duchess died young from an illness, so you’ll practically be the lady of the house! Congratulations, my dear.”

Her mother’s red lips curled into a greedy smile.

The sight made Edith sick. Her mother wasn’t celebrating for her—she was already counting the wealth she could gain from selling off her daughter.

“Oh, madam! What will we do? My daughter is getting married before yours.”

“How tasteless.”

Even as the countess reprimanded her, her mother only giggled and continued to act foolishly, while Laura sneered.

“’Lady of the house’? Please. Anyone can see she’s being offered up as a sacrificial lamb. And if not, she’ll just end up as a mistress like you. Don’t get your hopes up—you’re not getting a single scrap out of this.”

“How dare you! Must you ruin such a good moment?”

“She’s not wrong. Everyone knows the rumors circulating about the young lord.”

Leslie, who had remained silent until now, chimed in to defend her sister, but the moment she said those words, the noisy dining room fell silent.

The House of Duke Frost—what kind of family were they?

They were one of the most powerful families in the empire, a household even the emperor himself could not take lightly. Their legacy as a martial family had produced generations of outstanding knights.

The sole heir to this prestigious house was Lucion Frost.

Normally, he would be the dream prince that every girl wished to marry—if it weren’t for one tragic and fatal flaw.

He was cursed, living on borrowed time, not knowing when he might die.

And the curse was so strong that it instilled fear in those around him.

“They say everyone who’s touched him ends up dead. What will you do, Edith? You might be next.”

“Laura, was that really necessary? Edith, don’t worry about those ridiculous rumors. You can’t believe everything you hear.”

Her mother pointedly scolded Laura as she snickered, gently patting Edith’s shoulder in an attempt to reassure her.

“The duke’s son is fourteen this year, isn’t he? And you’re fifteen, so you’ll have the charm of being older!”

“I’m fourteen.”

“Oh, are you? Well, even better. You’re the same age, so you’ll get along splendidly.”