The Military Doctor Excels at Being a Contracted Duchess
Logan
군의관이 계약직 대공비를 너무 잘함 Jun 06, 2026 40 views
Chapter 8
She was the mother of the children and the younger sister of Grand Duke Victor Bayern.
So her name was Susanna Bayern.
“What kind of person was she?”
“She was very kind. She loved to sing. Ah, and she played the piano as well. Even the biggest troublemakers in the family would stop whatever they were doing and listen whenever Lady Susanna began to sing.”
So she had been the heart of the household.
Losing someone like that must have left a deep wound.
“Would it be difficult for you to tell me what happened?”
“It was the miasma. Lady Susanna grew weaker and weaker because of the bad air, and eventually passed away.”
Old Granny Vanya looked sorrowful.
Ibel wanted to sympathize with her pain, but...
She couldn't.
Because of miasma? People in the countryside still believe something that ridiculous?
Professor Pasteur had discovered the existence of germs in France in 1861.
There was still plenty of debate in academic circles, but Ibel knew from experience that Pasteur was right.
“Um... I heard that you graduated from a famous medical university and became a physician. Is that true?”
At Vanya's cautious question, Ibel nodded.
The old woman's face immediately brightened.
“Oh, thank goodness. The eldest young master's cough hasn't sounded normal lately. I'm sure it's the miasma, so we've been keeping all the windows tightly shut and keeping the fires burning, but he just won't get better...”
What?
You did what?
Speechless, Ibel listened as Granny Vanya cheerfully recounted one astonishing story after another.
“One day Lady Genevieve—she's His Grace's aunt, you see—had everyone walk around the entire mansion carrying torches. That's how you drive away the miasma.”
“...”
“Fortunately, the eldest young master seemed to improve afterward, but once the rainy season ended, the coughing started again. I don't think the miasma goes away all at once.”
Where was she even supposed to begin correcting them?
Rubbing her forehead, Ibel examined several dresses before choosing a soft, lightweight white one and slipping her arms into the sleeves.
In any case, there was nothing she could say from here.
Not unless she examined the patient herself.
Didn't Dr. Lister recently publish his results with carbolic acid in The Lancet? I think it was March of 1867.
Well, it hadn't even been a year yet.
The belief that "bad air"—so-called miasma—caused illness was still widespread.
How could ordinary people understand what germs were?
Even among physicians, many still didn't know they should disinfect their hands and instruments with carbolic acid before treating patients.
Still, carbolic acid isn't perfect. Personally, I think aseptic methods are far better.
The "aseptic method" Ibel envisioned involved disinfecting the entire area surrounding the patient.
She especially wanted separate operating rooms where no spectators would be allowed.
Unlike now, where people bought tickets just to watch surgeries.
Honestly...
Wasn't that practically asking the patient to die?
Doctors should have separate surgical clothing kept clean at all times. Instruments should be soaked in carbolic acid, dried properly, and only then used.
Of course, all of that existed only inside her head.
Both academics and the public judged a surgeon's skill by how much flesh and blood was stuck to their scalpel.
“Are there no doctors in the Grand Duchy who use carbolic acid?”
“Huh? What is that?”
“I suppose not. If there were, everyone would have heard about it and gone to see it. Carbolic acid is a disinfectant.”
“A disinfectant...?”
Granny Vanya blinked as she tightened Ibel's corset.
“At the university, they disinfect entire operating rooms and clinics with carbolic acid to eliminate germs in the air. Of course, the patient's wounds and the medical staff's hands are treated as well.”
A complete lie.
The university was one of the biggest sellers of tickets to surgical demonstrations.
“Really? Why do they do that?”
“Have you ever helped deliver a baby, Granny?”
“I have.”
This time, Vanya fastened an amber necklace around Ibel's neck, its color matching her eyes perfectly.
“Didn't both mother and child have a better chance of surviving when you washed your hands beforehand?”
“Oh! Midwives in the Grand Duchy have always washed their hands. I don't know why—we're using dirty water anyway—but my grandmother's grandmother did it, and so has every generation since.”
“That's basically disinfection. It's a way of preventing germs from entering a wound.”
Still, carbolic acid was expensive.
It was troublesome to use, irritated the eyes, and patients sometimes developed complications even after disinfection.
Many doctors still rejected it for those reasons.
It wouldn't be until 1871, when Dr. Lister successfully operated on the Queen of England, that his fame truly spread.
Hmm... I suppose I need to start by teaching people the very concept of disinfection.
At last, her preparations were complete.
The woman reflected in the mirror looked like the daughter of a noble and distinguished family.
With this much effort, fooling people might not be difficult after all.
“You look absolutely beautiful. His Grace will be completely enchanted.”
That stone-faced man?
As if.
Ignoring Vanya's words, Ibel slowly adjusted her posture.
Straighten the shoulders.
Engage the core.
Tuck in the chin.
The habits drilled into her since childhood gradually resurfaced.
Vanya's eyes widened.
She looked like an entirely different person now.
* * *
“So you're saying I need to transform the prospective lady into a convincing noblewoman in just two months?”
The aide, Matthias, rubbed his forehead as he reviewed the detailed orders he had been given.
He had no idea what His Grace was planning, but there had to be a reason.
The sudden advertisement for a contract Grand Duchess.
This situation.
Surely all of it served some purpose.
Even so, he wasn't confident.
A noble's dignity was closely tied to their birth.
After conducting a thorough investigation, he had learned that the Claren family was a fallen noble house.
Recently, thanks to the son's gambling addiction, they had even sold off their estate.
Worse still, "Ibel Claren" wasn't listed in the noble registry.
Twins were uncommon and were sometimes considered unlucky.
If both children were boys, it wasn't a problem. But when the second twin was a girl, some noble families left her out of the registry.
A completely irrational and unscientific superstition claiming she would drain the fortune of her elder brother.
Forgive me for saying so, but she's practically a commoner. Though that does make it easier to pass her off as the adopted daughter of House Eberstein.
Had she been officially registered, they would have needed to contact the Claren family.
That would have made everything far more complicated.
The family would undoubtedly have made demands.
As things stood, however, a legal commoner was simply being adopted into a noble house.
Since she was already an adult, there was no need to inform her parents—even if they were nobles.
The paperwork isn't the issue.
The problem was...
How was he supposed to make someone who was half a commoner appear to be a high-ranking noblewoman?
In only two months!
“We'll need public support as well. We'll simply say that House Eberstein's adopted daughter has been studying abroad all this time.”
“Yes, Your Grace...”
At this point, Matthias gave up trying to understand.
“I believe she already knows the basics of etiquette, so we'll focus on speech, dancing, foreign languages, and general education.”
If she had truly worked alongside His Grace on confidential missions, she was probably a fast learner.
To be honest, Matthias didn't even believe she was really a doctor.
Perhaps that was just some code phrase known only to the two of them.
“My lady's preparations are complete.”
At that moment, there was a knock at the door, followed by Granny Vanya's voice.
The fact that Vanya herself had been assigned to attend the prospective Grand Duchess carried significant meaning within Bayern.
It demonstrated just how much consideration His Grace was giving her.
“Your Grace.”
The voice was so calm that it evoked the image of autumn leaves drifting to the ground.
