“Mmmgh…”
Reina hurriedly stuffed the crawler donut into Bonita’s mouth, worried about keeping the duke waiting and angering him.
“There, good girl.”
Holding Bonita—who was nibbling happily at the donut with both hands—Reina said nervously,
“All… all ready!”
“…”
But her hair was still quite messy. The duke considered pointing it out but decided against it.
“…That crawler donut, did you buy it separately?”
“Yes? Oh, the crawler donut? Yes, I bought it yesterday when we went out.”
The duke’s gaze lingered on the bag of donuts in her hand, then on the way she carried Bonita so steadily—her steps never wavering, never stumbling. It was an oddly fascinating sight.
“…The child.”
“Yes?”
“Isn’t she heavy?”
“Ah…”
Bonita was eight. Small for her age because of years of poor nutrition, but not light enough to be carried so easily.
Reina shook her head with a smile.
“I’m used to carrying water. About two buckets’ worth?”
“…”
The duke’s expression turned oddly serious at those words. He murmured, almost to himself,
“Water buckets…”
“…?”
Reina wondered if she had offended him somehow. But he said no more. And as a servant, she knew she should not speak unless permitted, so she stayed quiet.
Is he angry I made him wait?
Or rather—why was the duke himself leading her? Her thoughts spun.
Meanwhile, the duke was lost in his own.
Water buckets…?
Damian Winternight had been born into a golden cradle. He had never carried water, never felt such physical burdens outside of battle. He could only conclude that Reina had lived a life utterly foreign to him.
Not one bucket—but two.
If she had added that they were the massive tubs used for scrubbing floors, his face might have darkened even more. Thankfully, she did not.
Still, he kept glancing at her, impressed at how easily this frail-looking woman carried her child. Estelle had never liked being carried by him, always stiff and uncomfortable.
But she seemed fine in Reina Borton’s arms…
Was there some secret to holding children? The duke, stern as ever, sank into silent thought.
Thus, both walked on, each with a heavy heart. Only Bonita, munching peacefully on her donut, was calm.
“I thought long on what would be best.”
“…Pardon?”
“Your reward.”
“Ah! Th-thank you…?”
Reina tightened her arms around Bonita, anxious. She didn’t think she had done anything worth a reward—the very word unsettled her.
“There was even talk of ten billion teon.”
“…?”
Ten… billion? Not even one billion had ever passed through her hands. Reina gasped, breath caught in her throat.
The ways of nobles and the wealthy were beyond her comprehension.
“But I decided it would be dangerous to give you such money right away.”
“I see…”
“So instead, I will first help you gain the strength to protect such wealth.”
The duke opened the glass doors leading to the balcony and strode outside. Reina, glancing nervously at the servants nearby, followed only when he beckoned.
“…Ah.”
And there, she truly realized what it meant to be struck speechless.
In the grand gardens of the ducal estate, every servant stood in perfect rows, waiting.
Reina had never even dreamed of such a sight. She didn’t know how to react.
Bonita, still sleepy, barely registered the scene. A maid came to hold her instead, soothing her protests until she relaxed.
Reina, left holding only the crumpled bag with a single donut, walked hesitantly toward the duke.
“You saved Estelle,” the duke declared calmly, “and I will see you properly rewarded.”
“….”
“These people will learn—through you—that loyalty without betrayal is well rewarded.”
“…Ah…”
Reina suddenly remembered the novel.
The part where Reina kidnapped Estelle—and paid with her life.
Back then, my death warned them what would happen if Estelle were harmed…
Should she be grateful? Or terrified?
She masked her confusion and stared at the sight before her.
“From this day forth, Reina Borton will have no restricted areas within this estate. No one may order her except those bearing the Winternight name or their direct subordinates.”
Reina’s jaw nearly dropped. First, that he even knew her name. Second, at the declaration itself.
The servants, too, exchanged startled looks.
“Among the knights, a guard will be chosen specifically to protect Reina Borton…”
She could hardly hear the rest. Her mind reeled. She barely managed to stand upright.
So… the room wasn’t the end after all…
Later, she found herself back indoors, clutching Bonita’s hand tightly.
“Ah!”
“Mom?”
For a moment, Reina thought it had all been a dream. But the duke beside her proved it wasn’t.
“…Are you not pleased?” he asked.
“I-it is an honor.”
Pleased? Anyone else would call this fortune beyond measure.
Still dazed, Reina followed as the duke guided them further.
How many people in the empire have ever been personally guided by the duke himself?
Yet he was clumsy at it—he had never escorted anyone before. His long strides quickly left the mother and child behind.
“…Bonita, are your legs sore?”
“No, I’m okay…”
But she was still a child, small and frail. Reina looked down at her anxiously.
Apparently, the duke heard. He stopped, turned, and suddenly scooped Bonita into his arms.
“Ah!”
“…!”
“Light,” he remarked. Only a little heavier than Estelle, but still light. Again he thought of water buckets.
“My lord?”
Holding Bonita, he looked at her face, then at Reina’s. Mother and daughter, both wearing the same startled expression—it was uncanny.
Not like her father at all, he thought. Bonita’s eye color differed, but everything else was a mirror of Reina.
The duke simply stood there, watching them, confused by his own behavior.
“…The child looked uncomfortable,” he explained stiffly.
“I-I can carry her!”
“You’ve been holding her all this time. Aren’t your arms tired?”
A maid being shown such consideration—it felt wrong. Reina almost blurted it out but bit her tongue, only fidgeting nervously.
Bonita, pale, stiffened in his arms.
The duke frowned, concerned.
“Are you uncomfortable?”
“N-no! Not uncomfortable at all!”
From a child’s eyes, the duke was scarier than a dragon waking from slumber. Bonita clapped her hands over her mouth to stifle her hiccups.
“….”
Just like Estelle—she too froze whenever he held her.
“…Am I holding her wrong?”
“…Excuse me?”
Words no one thought would ever leave his mouth.
Reina hesitated, then carefully gestured.
“L-like this… hold her to the side, and support where she needs it.”
“…I see.”
He adjusted Bonita as instructed. She still trembled, but less so, and finally breathed out softly.
“…Phew.”
“She seems fine now.”
Reina chose silence over answering, and he resumed walking—slower this time.
They reached a guarded door.
“Open it,” the duke ordered.
“Yes, my lord.”
Reina recognized the place—she had come here before, as a servant.
Inside was a long table laden with food.
“Join me for a meal.”
“Hic!”
This time, the hiccup came from Reina.
Damian Winternight thought idly—mother and daughter even hiccup alike.
The lavish dining table overflowed with exquisite dishes, yet all anyone could hear was Reina’s incessant hiccups.
Estelle joined, Bonita sat down, the duke at the head—but all eyes ended up on Reina, the pink-haired maid trembling with hiccups.
“Mom… are you okay?” Bonita whispered.
“Y-yes! B-bonita, eat your… hic… food…”
Reina covered her mouth with a napkin, trying to suppress the sounds, but her shoulders shook violently.
“….”
The duke frowned, baffled.
What in that conversation could have startled her so much?
Others trembled at his cruelty, his power. But when he offered a meal, they all rejoiced—it meant golden opportunity. Yet Reina reacted as if it were terrifying.
This dinner had been meant to share his plans with her. But seeing her state, he decided to wait until afterward.
Meanwhile, Bonita hesitated, unsure what to eat.
Despite her hiccups, Reina noticed, and filled her daughter’s plate with fresh salad, tender beef stew, and soft bread.
“Thank you, Mom!”
Bonita grinned and dug in.
“Hic—Bonita…”
“Yes?”
“H-hold your fork… hic… properly…”
She demonstrated through hiccups, guiding Bonita’s grip.
“…Sorry, Mom.”
Bonita corrected herself. Reina had tried to teach her table manners since moving here, but the habit slipped often.
“….”
The duke, watching quietly, suddenly took Estelle’s empty plate. His daughter looked at him curiously.
He selected a few dishes—hamburg steak, bacon-wrapped asparagus, tomato-cheese gratin—and set them before her.
“….”
Then he stared.
Estelle blinked back at him, tense.
“…Th-thank you?”
“…Good.”
Satisfied, the duke finally looked away—though the corner of his mouth almost twitched upward.
The entire meal, he kept glancing to see how Estelle used her fork, oddly disappointed once she held it correctly.
Reina barely ate, drinking only water. The food looked mouthwatering, but her stomach churned. Everything was changing too fast. Too much.
All she had wanted was Bonita back alive. Now the weight of excessive rewards left her dizzy.
By the end of the meal, her hiccups finally stopped.
Bonita and Estelle were sent off to the playroom, their bellies full.
Then the duke summoned Reina alone to his study.
She thought, thank goodness my hiccups stopped.
“Sit,” he said, gesturing to the sofa. “Have some tea. Do you have a favorite?”
Reina shook her head. She only knew of cheap kinds, nothing worth mentioning here.
“I’ll drink whatever you give me.”
“Very well.”
He ordered tea and light refreshments. Reina thought she was already too full, but perhaps he was used to eating much more.
As if reading her mind, he said,
“It’s for you.”
“…Me?”
“Yes. You barely ate earlier. It wasn’t because you weren’t hungry.”
“Ah…”
She had been too distracted, too nervous. That was true.
But why would he care?
Glancing down, she realized she still carried the donut bag. Sheepishly, she held it up.
“I-I still have this donut, so I’m fine…”
“….”
The bag was greasy and stained through. Without a word, the duke took it from her hand.
“Now you don’t.”
“…Oh…”
“So eat.”
“…Yes.”
When the tea arrived, golden and fragrant, she accepted it politely. Small cakes, madeleines, and dainty sandwiches accompanied it.
Reina tried a blueberry ham sandwich. Sweet and savory—it was delicious.
The duke watched her closely.
“…It seems you like it.”
“Ah… yes, it’s very good.”
“Do you not eat?” she asked cautiously.
“I…”
He held up the bag of crawler donuts.
“…I have this.”
“…!”
Repeating her earlier words, he opened the bag and pulled one out. The rustic, sugary treat looked so out of place among the fine tea set.
He studied it, noting the grease on his fingers.
“…It’s fine.”
In truth, it wasn’t his first. He had eaten all manner of foods before. And since he had taken it from her, there was no reason to complain.
Wiping sugar from his hands, he said,
“I arranged this time because I have things to tell you—and a request.”
“…Yes, my lord.”
Reina’s chest tightened. She pressed a hand against it, silent, waiting.
The duke raised his head.
“And so…”
