Chapter 70……………………..
That Child Is Dead
Leah was on her way back from visiting an apothecary in the Duchy of Belarus. Just as she entered the mansion carrying the herbs she had purchased, she noticed a tall figure standing at the entrance.
‘The Duke?’
It was Akkia.
Her eyes then caught sight of a carriage moving away from the mansion. The emblem upon it unmistakably marked it as belonging to the Imperial Palace, immediately making her think of Emperor Illay.
‘Did someone from the palace come here?’
Looking puzzled, Leah walked toward Akkia.
“Your Grace, who was here?”
“Someone from the palace. I sent a report, and His Majesty has replied.”
“Already?”
It hadn’t even been a week since he had sent his letter to the emperor. Considering how far the northern region was from the capital, the reply was unusually quick.
“The fact that the letter came back this quickly doesn’t feel like a good sign.”
Ever since Leah had shown interest in hot springs at a dinner, the development plans had moved along rapidly.
The Duke of Belarus, who once seemed indifferent to business, began to show interest, especially in the ventures Leah had devised.
[Miss Leah’s business ideas are fascinating. Then let us entrust Bialitzkal to the two of you.]
Leah had never expected to be included in the hot spring development project.
It seemed to have increased Akkia’s worries, but everything had gone smoothly so far. All that remained was Illay’s approval.
Akkia unfolded the emperor’s letter under Leah’s anxious gaze.
“Was it a rejection after all?”
Leah asked carefully, noting how Akkia’s expression remained dark and unreadable.
‘Well, it can’t be helped. The hot springs project is interesting, but there’s also the urgent matter of developing a new medicine.’
She was about to resign herself to focusing on her apothecary work when—
“No. He granted permission.”
“Really?!”
Startled by the low, resonant voice ringing in her ears, Leah looked up. Her face, which had been gloomy with the thought of rejection, brightened instantly.
‘She’s thrilled.’
Her green eyes sparkled under the sunlight. It wasn’t even her own business, yet she was so delighted.
Akkia’s gaze briefly softened at the sight before dropping again.
[The development of Bialitzkal’s hot springs is permitted. Akkia Heidern de Croatea, as a member of the Imperial House, devote yourself wholly to reviving the barren Bialitzkal.]
‘Akkia Heidern de Croatea.’
Anyone who bore the name Croatea was recognized as imperial blood. Akkia closed his eyes as old memories pressed in.
He remembered his childhood, running freely through the vast palace.
[Your Highness! You mustn’t run so! What if someone sees—!]
[Leave him be. Who would dare intrude upon the Empress’s garden?]
It was always his nanny who scolded him for behaving improperly, while his mother only watched with a gentle smile.
As the empire’s only prince, Akkia’s early life had been smooth. His father, Emperor Phillipes III, was strict but deeply affectionate.
A father’s desire for his son to grow up rightly. Akkia cherished even the strict discipline, vowing one day to make the empire more glorious when he became emperor.
But the world never allowed him to fulfill that vow.
[Your Highness! Prince, Your Highness!]
[Nanny… I…!]
The echoes of his nanny’s frantic voice, the coppery scent of blood—
The memories that felt like nightmares pried his eyes back open.
In truth, Akkia already knew why Illay had sent his reply so swiftly. The emperor wished to use this opportunity to expose to the empire the incompetence of the sole heir once cast out.
Surely, the emperor would find ways to obstruct him. A faint, bitter smirk tugged at Akkia’s lips.
‘This won’t be easy.’
The young duke once banished to Heidern’s lands no longer existed.
He opened another envelope he had been holding with the imperial reply.
“What’s that letter?”
“It’s from Likel. The Magnolia Trading Company will be arriving within a few days.”
“Already?”
Leah looked shocked. The hot spring project had only just taken shape. She knew Magnolia would be involved, but she hadn’t expected them to head to Bialitzkal so soon.
“It’s time to begin.”
Unlike Leah’s surprise, Akkia’s gaze sank deep, as still and dark as a lake that swallowed all light.
❀ ❀ ❀
The once silent mansion of the Duke of Belarus now resounded daily with laughter. Like now.
“Haha. That’s all right. People make mistakes. Go on.”
A maid had accidentally spilled a cup while serving Dmitri. Expecting furious scolding, she had prostrated herself on the floor, but instead she heard him laugh warmly.
Not only did he not punish her, he even comforted her.
“Y-yes, Your Grace. I won’t ever make such a mistake again.”
The maid bowed, astonished, before leaving. Since Duke Heidern’s arrival, the servants had been surprised by Dmitri’s softened demeanor.
Once sensitive to the slightest noise, he had grown endlessly gentle toward those beneath him.
Noticing this, Barton spoke quietly.
“The tea must have cooled. Shall I have it brought again?”
“No need. It’s still fine.”
Dmitri smiled contentedly and shook his head. The maid who spilled the tea had been about Leah’s age. Seeing her tremble as if the world had collapsed over such a small mistake, he couldn’t help but feel sympathy.
Perhaps Leah had lived her life in constant fear like that.
As Dmitri’s heart opened, the mansion grew brighter as well. And he didn’t find the change unpleasant.
“You seem to be in good spirits, my lord.”
Since losing Ariel, Dmitri had lost his smile. The life of a parent who buries a child is nothing short of hell.
Though alive, it felt like he wasn’t living at all.
The feasts he once enjoyed with Ariel became like chewing sand, and the mansion that had once been filled with laughter fell into silence.
Mute, lifeless days filled his life after her death.
He had thought he would never again know happiness. But now he savored this rare peace, nodding to Barton.
“Yes… It has been so long since I felt such joy.”
Each passing moment was precious to him.
Just as he reclined in his chair, wondering how he might spend the day with Leah, a knock came at the door.
“My lord, it is Anthony.”
“Ah, come in.”
The man entered with neatly combed blue hair. He was the retainer Dmitri had sent south to investigate the fate of Ariel’s child.
“What did you find?”
Dmitri’s face shone with expectation. Every time he saw Leah—so much the image of his daughter—he grew more certain she must be his granddaughter.
Surely, Anthony’s report would confirm what he already believed.
‘The child we thought dead was alive after all—that’s what he’ll say.’
If only he could hear those words, all lingering unease would vanish.
But Anthony’s expression was dark.
“My lord, the truth is…”
He spoke with difficulty.
“Lady Ariel’s child… is confirmed to have died.”
“…What?”
At first Dmitri thought he had misheard. He blinked, staring at Anthony, and asked again slowly.
“What did you just say?”
“I met the midwife who delivered the child. She said it was a girl, but… the child died immediately after birth.”
Anthony reluctantly drew a worn handkerchief from his coat.
“This… belonged to Lady Ariel. She embroidered it herself for the child.”
The once-white cloth was faded with age, decorated with small wildflowers.
“The midwife said Lady Ariel made it along with a baby’s first clothes. But during the funeral, this handkerchief was not buried, so she kept it all this time.”
Dmitri’s hands trembled as he received it. Though many years had passed, he recognized the handiwork instantly—it was Ariel’s.
She always finished embroidery in a particular way, pulling the last thread upward, a habit she had learned from her mother, the duchess.
“Ah…”
A low groan escaped him.
[Father, everyone says I resemble a rose. But sometimes, I prefer the simple wildflowers more than the splendid roses.]
‘Yes… you did say that.’
It was Dmitri, not Ariel, who loved roses. He had only forced that image upon her, demanding she become like one. Ariel, however, had always longed for an ordinary life.
‘So you wanted your child to grow up ordinary, didn’t you?’
Dmitri’s hands shook so violently he could no longer bear to hear Anthony’s report. His chest felt frozen to its depths.
He had believed that Ariel, pitying her lonely father, had sent Leah to him. For when he looked at Leah—grown so beautiful—he saw Ariel again.
Anthony cautiously offered, “If you wish for certainty, I could show you the child’s grave—”
“No.”
Dmitri raised his head after a long silence, still clutching the handkerchief. His once fierce eyes were now filled with sorrow.
“That is enough.”
His voice echoed through the study, subdued and heavy.
Outwardly, he showed composure befitting the head of a house. But beneath the handkerchief, his hands still trembled.
Barton’s eyes reddened as he watched his master.
He recalled the day Lady Ariel had returned as a lifeless body, and how the duke had crumbled then.
‘He loved her so much…’
Barton’s heart ached with sympathy.
“It’s best we leave him be.”
He ushered Anthony out. Once the two were gone, silence fell over the study. Slowly, the handkerchief grew wet with tears.
Clutching the only relic of his daughter, Dmitri wept. He could no longer deny it.
His beloved daughter Ariel—and her child—were no longer of this world.
