After that, Luke’s duties grew even more demanding, and exchanging letters became difficult.
One year remained until the expedition ended. After Deidre’s first birthday had passed and some time had gone by, he would finally be able to return to the capital.
If only he had not gone on an expedition when his daughter was about to be born, he thought more than once. Even so, he told himself that for his daughter’s sake, he had to do his duty as a father, and he devoted himself to his work.
“I look forward to the day I can meet Deidre.”
The words he had written to Camilla, Luke repeated to himself as a way of driving his own resolve.
So that he could meet his daughter safely.
For the sake of his wife, who had borne and was raising their child.
Luke swore that he would do anything.
The year turned, and at last Luke’s term of duty came to an end.
“Sorry, everyone. I’m heading back ahead of you.”
Unable to wait for his companions, who were still fussing over their preparations, Luke swung himself onto his horse, already fully equipped. His comrades laughed and called after him.
“Well, your wife and little girl are waiting.”
“Go show your face already!”
They sent him off amid good-natured jeers.
As he rode alone, Luke’s thoughts were filled entirely with his wife and daughter.
“Deidre’s room is the corner room on the second floor. I chose the brightest one, with the best sunlight.”
Reading those words in Camilla’s letter, Luke had felt a surge of pride. It was indeed the best location, an excellent room that had stood unused, perfect for their daughter.
“Deidre has learned to call me ‘mama.’ I’m teaching her to call you ‘dada.’”
Imagining Camilla patiently teaching their daughter, his chest grew warm. She must be a wonderful mother, loving Deidre and guiding her gently.
“Please come home safely.”
“Of course, Camilla.”
Murmuring the reply, Luke urged his horse onward as soon as they reached the open road. His sturdy warhorse seemed to understand his feelings, pushing itself at full speed toward the capital despite the long hours of riding.
It was night, and the city gates would soon close. If he were shut out, he would have to wait until dawn.
But his horse summoned its last strength and leapt through the narrowing gap just before the gates closed. After showing his identification to the startled guards, the horse finally halted, utterly spent.
Luke praised his loyal mount, entrusted it to the soldiers waiting at the gate with a gratuity, borrowed another horse, and raced toward his home.
Camilla. Deidre.
He cried their names over and over in his heart.
He had missed them. He had missed them so terribly.
At last, he would see his beloved wife and precious daughter.
The baronial residence was dark and silent.
Deidre, just turned one, was surely asleep, and Camilla might be as well. Not wanting to disturb them, Luke slipped in through the back entrance, wondering what to do next.
Then he heard it.
A child’s cry.
Luke was near the rear entrance on the first floor. The nursery Camilla had told him about was far away. Even if Deidre were crying in the night, he should not have been able to hear it.
And yet, he heard it again.
It sounded as though the voice itself were crying out for help.
“Deidre…?”
Luke hurried down the dark corridor and up the stairs. A guard on night patrol called out to him, but Luke ignored it and pressed on.
“Deidre’s room is the corner room on the second floor.”
As he passed Camilla’s room and the marital bedroom, he heard noises ahead.
The door to the corner room was open.
From inside came Camilla’s strained voice, and the voices of unfamiliar men.
“Camilla!”
Luke burst into the room and froze.
The window stood wide open. Figures dressed in black were there. And on the nursery floor lay his wife, clad in her nightclothes.
His vision flared white with rage.
As the private soldiers who had followed him clashed with the intruders, Luke rushed to Camilla’s side.
“Camilla! Are you all right?”
“…Luke?”
Her voice was faint. She seemed to try to lift her head, but it stopped halfway, as if something would not allow her to move.
Only then did Luke realize she was holding something against her chest. It shifted slightly.
Deidre.
Camilla’s back was soaked with a grayish liquid. Worse still, the skin of the arms clutching Deidre had taken on a strange hue.
“Luke… are you here? I can’t see. I can’t see…”
Her words were filled with fear. Luke dropped to a crouch beside her, but by then her eyelids had frozen half-open. Her face and lashes were dull and ashen, stripped of their usual warmth and color.
What was this?
What had happened to her?
“Camilla, it’s me. It’s Luke.”
He grasped her shoulder desperately, but it was horrifyingly cold. Only her lips moved, releasing ragged breaths. Her eyes and ears no longer seemed to function.
Why. Why had this happened.
He had finally returned. He had finally come home. And yet he could do nothing but watch as his wife’s body grew colder and harder beneath his hands.
A tear fell onto her temple, but he knew she could no longer feel it.
“Lu… ke…”
Even as half her lips lost their freedom, Camilla forced a smile.
“Please… take care of Deidre…”
Those were her last words. Her mouth went completely still. No matter where he touched her, there was no warmth left.
“Camilla…?”
Around him, the servants subdued the intruders, but Luke could only stare at his wife in shock.
Her nightclothes remained soft, yet her skin had dulled, all sheen gone, cold and hard like stone. The hair that had once slipped so smoothly through his fingers two years ago was now stiff as wire.
“Camilla…”
He called her name again and again, but there was no answer.
No warmth returned.
His thoughts ceased, his mind locked in numb silence.
Then he heard it.
“Wahh…”
A cry.
Luke snapped back to himself.
Within the rigid circle of his wife’s arms, something moved. Hastily, he turned Camilla onto her back and carefully pulled the bundle free.
Deidre.
The softness and weight of his daughter, the faint sweetness of her scent, made Luke blink in disbelief. He held her awkwardly, and almost at once she stopped crying. She gazed straight at him with wide blue eyes.
“…dada?”
“What?”
“dada!”
Deidre laughed happily, her voice bright.
“My lord…”
Luke turned slowly at the voice behind him. A young maid stood there, the orphan girl he had assigned to Camilla’s service. Her eyes were red with tears.
Sniffling, she pointed at the nursery wall.
There hung the portrait Luke had once, reluctantly, allowed to be painted.
“Her ladyship… showed that portrait to the young miss,” the maid said through tears. “She told her every day… that this was her father…!”
The maid collapsed beside Camilla, sobbing her name.
Luke stared blankly up at the portrait of his younger self, gazing back with an irritable expression.
“Deidre has learned to call me ‘mama.’ I’m teaching her to call you ‘dada.’”
Camilla had taught their daughter about him.
So that even if Luke returned suddenly, Deidre could call him Father.
“…Deidre.”
Luke whispered his daughter’s name, his voice shaking, and held her close.
In that dim nursery, filled with despair, Deidre’s cheerful cries of “mama, dada!” became the single light that kept Luke’s heart from breaking entirely.
