SODTAM | Ch 18

Episode 18 – Resemblance

“You should come live at the estate.”

“The estate…?” Solra blinked.

She’d already revealed she was a woman, and she’d confirmed the Duke’s feelings for her.

Now was the perfect time to move into the grand mansion—and punish the infamous Duchess.

It’s a little earlier than planned, she thought.

Originally, Ryan was supposed to come for her after Hilbardo left for the border.

His visit was ahead of schedule, but she felt relieved anyway.

The main storyline hasn’t changed. That’s what matters.

The loving look in Ryan’s eyes was all the proof she needed.

“I can’t leave Morant behind,” Solra said firmly.

Of course.

She couldn’t abandon her sick brother.

Besides, plenty of little “episodes” would unfold once Morant was living under the same roof with them.

“Of course he’ll come too. He’s your family,” Ryan said.

She had expected as much, so she wasn’t overwhelmed.

But still, the thought of leaving her grimy poverty behind for the splendor of a ducal mansion made her genuinely happy.

“I feel so loved right now.”

In her past life, she’d never known wealth.

Now she would.

Looking at Ryan—her ticket to lifelong happiness—she smiled brightly.

“Hmm… something’s coming into view,” she murmured, pretending to squint into a vision as she nestled against his chest.

“His Highness will defeat the barbarians and return,” she declared.

“You’re sure?”

“I’m just telling you what I see.”

She watched his face darken, but quickly soothed him.

“Don’t worry. As long as I’m here, the Prince will never be a match for you.”

Her arms slid around his neck, her words sugary sweet.

“So stay with me. Always.”

Ryan didn’t answer.

He just kissed her quietly and held her.

I sat in my office, staring at the medicine box on the guest table.

The fresh bandages and ointments sat untouched, just as I’d packed them.

So he still hasn’t come back.

The sky was already growing dim.

Tonight was supposed to be the final dinner with all the knights before they left for the border.

Did he even remember?

Had he gotten proper treatment?

Stop. Don’t think about it.

What was the point of worrying about a husband off meeting his mistress?

Better to spend my time on something more productive.

I just need to hold myself together.

Even if his woman came into the mansion, I had to keep order. I had to protect the Duchess’s honor, maintain noble dignity.

Just as I always had.

Half the nobles in society kept mistresses anyway. My situation wasn’t so unusual.

That thought dulled the emptiness in my chest—at least a little.

Or so I told myself.

Lying naked on her shabby bed, Solra watched Ryan button up his shirt.

“When I move into the mansion,” she said sweetly, “let me help care for the baby.”

“The baby?” He paused.

“Yes. I want practice, so I’ll be ready when we have our own someday.”

Her heart raced at the thought of such a small, precious life.

“I saw the little one by chance once,” she went on. “So adorable. Really.”

“I see.”

“His smile was just beautiful. Don’t you think so, too?”

Ryan froze mid-motion. Silence stretched between them.

Sensing his displeasure, Solra quickly tried to change the subject—but then Ryan spoke first.

“Solra. You said the child was adorable?”

“Yes, very much.”

“What part exactly?”

She thought of those plump lips, glossy with drool, and those tiny teeth poking through.

“Like a doll… such mysterious eyes. So tiny, of course, being a baby…”

“Did he resemble me in any way?”

“…What?” Solra tilted her head, not catching his meaning at first.

“How can I be sure he’s mine, when he doesn’t look like me at all?”

“Oh…”

“Not only that. The dates don’t even match. A baby due in midwinter was born in early winter. The physician claimed it happens sometimes, but why should I believe that?”

That baby—fine platinum hair, amber eyes glittering like jewels—looked more like a miniature Violetta than anything of Ryan.

Solra understood now why Ryan felt no affection for his son.

But she knew the truth: the child was his. The so-called villainess hadn’t borne another man’s baby. Still…

Why should I clear up his misunderstanding?

If Ryan and Violetta reconciled, that would only ruin Solra’s plans.

So she smiled faintly.

“You’re right. If I were you, I wouldn’t believe it either. Some people smile sweetly in public, then behave shamelessly in private. You must have your reasons to doubt her.”

At her agreement, Ryan recalled the endless letters that had burned his temper—Hilbardo’s passionate words to a married woman, or that slimy noble’s confessions. Proof enough of her corruption.

He gently combed his fingers through Solra’s long black hair.

“Exactly. So don’t ever betray me.”

He pulled out a paper stamped with the Duchess’s seal—a budget approval.

“What’s this?” Solra asked.

“A fund. I thought you might like to decorate the place you’ll be staying.”

“I… I can really spend all of this?”

“Yes.”

She read the figures, biting her lip.

The sum was staggering—more than two years’ wages she’d saved under Morant’s name.

Enough to cover even the Duchess’s clawed-back allowances and “compensation.”

Her fingers trembled.

“It’s… amazing. Thank you, Duke.”

Ryan stroked her hair again, watching her cheeks flush with joy.

“If you want more, I’ll give it. Just stay devoted to me.”

“I already belong to you.”

“Yes, you’re mine. You must always remain so.”

But Solra was too giddy from his affection and the money to register the weight of his words.

The next morning.

Solra wore a yellow dress like the first flower of spring.

The hem brushed her ankles, trimmed with waves of frills—the latest fashion.

It had been altered from an older piece, but fit as though made for her.

Arriving at the mansion far earlier than the ceremony time, she spotted the gate guard.

“Sir Zero!” she called, beaming and waving.

The knight rubbed his eyes—sure he was seeing things.

Solra ran over, folding her hands demurely like a well-bred young lady.

“It’s me, Morant. You remember, don’t you?”

His face turned awkward as he recognized her.

“Oh… right. It’s been a while.”

No wonder he was thrown.

The “boy” Morant had suddenly reappeared as a young woman.

“Would you open the gate? I’ll be living in the annex starting today.”

Everyone already knew the Duke’s mistress was moving in.

But realizing it was Morant all along unsettled him.

The gates opened.

Inside, Solra lifted her skirt and curtsied gracefully. When the knight returned her courtesy with a stiff salute, she laughed.

“Sir Zero, don’t be so formal. We’re friends, aren’t we?”

Her forwardness made him uncomfortable. He simply pointed toward the annex, urging her to go.

Pleased by his reaction, Solra grinned to herself as she walked on.

The Stroud estate—its very air felt different.

To her, it was breathtakingly beautiful.