Chapter 69
The woman he chose, even giving up the title of Duke, and the newborn baby born between them.
What must that life have looked like?
Yet, for some reason…
Haven paused as he reached near the bedroom, shaking his head.
“…How on earth…”
It was truly fortunate that no one could read his mind. He set down the bucket of firewood and ran his hands over his face, overwhelmed.
In the vision that had involuntarily appeared in his mind, the woman—the mother of Flita—had… Roze’s face.
“I must be losing my mind. The child is sick, there’s no other way I’d not be.”
No, it wasn’t just that the child was sick—this was completely unreasonable. Haven shook his head roughly. Yet he didn’t realize that he had thought similar thoughts many times before. And each time, the cause had always been Roze.
It was then.
A voice came from the bedroom. Because Haven hadn’t closed the door completely when leaving, the sounds inside the bedroom carried clearly into the hallway.
A cough. Then Roze’s voice, and… even the child’s voice.
“Has she woken up?”
Haven’s eyes widened as he recognized Flita’s voice. Thinking the child had regained consciousness, he quickly picked up the bucket of firewood again. Just as he was about to open the bedroom door, he heard Flita coughing, her voice trembling with tears.
“Cough… Am I… am I going to die?”
Haven’s hand was just about to touch the doorknob. He froze and withdrew his hand. The child’s fear and despair washed over him in full.
He clenched his teeth and lowered his head. He saw the bucket in his hands. And the firewood inside it.
His lips twisted. How ridiculous and pitiful he must look. While the child was in such pain and terrified, the father—he—was feeling proud just for bringing a few pieces of firewood.
“…Just imagining the wrong things.”
As Haven struggled with his self-loathing and turned to leave, Roze’s gentle voice held him back.
“Absolutely not, Princess.”
Patting the sobbing child lightly, Roze tried to calmly reassure her. But Flita continued, her voice quivering.
“But they said it’s a bad disease. Actually… I overheard the maids. They said it’s a very bad disease, one that spreads easily. That’s why Father… sniff… sent me here. He should’ve sent me further away, but…”
“Princess.”
“The maid too… sniff… she got scared, screamed, and ran away. Afraid the disease might spread from me. I… I, sniff… Roze… what if Father hates me? What if he never wants to see me again because I broke the rule about going outside…? What if he wishes I’d just die sooner?”
Horrible words came from the child’s mouth. Haven grimaced and reached for the doorknob again. Then, Roze’s kind voice continued.
“No, that’s not true.”
“…Lies. Father doesn’t like me, right? Before Roze came, he wouldn’t even eat with me, wouldn’t stay with me.”
Each word pierced Haven’s heart. He had guessed his negligence had caused the child great pain, but hearing it come directly from her mouth made it even more unbearable.
“That’s not it, Flita. I just…”
Wanting to explain, Haven tried to enter the bedroom. But again, Roze’s voice came first.
“Princess, do you know the meaning of your name?”
“…Huh? My name’s meaning?”
Flita sniffled and asked, now curious. Roze had probably brought up another topic to calm the child. In that case, Haven thought it would seem strange if he entered now.
He carefully set down the bucket of firewood beside the door and leaned against the wall. Even if the child’s attention was elsewhere, his guilt remained. He furrowed his brows and pressed his temples.
“My name… cough… has a meaning?”
Unaware of her father’s heavy heart, Flita stopped crying and asked Roze. She was still a child. After sleeping without awareness and waking crying, she now quickly showed curiosity.
“Should I laugh at her innocence, or cry?”
Haven swallowed a dry laugh and exhaled quietly. At least the child was awake. He could consider it a small hurdle overcome.
“I need to tell the physician that the child has awakened.”
Haven thought to have Pedwin fetch the physician, when Roze answered the question Flita had just asked.
“It’s the name of a wildflower.”
“Wildflower?”
“Yes. It’s a small red flower with strong vitality, one that doesn’t wither easily even in winter. Its name is ‘Flita.’”
“This flower’s name is Flita. Not flashy, but strong enough to survive even winter.”
At that moment, the voice in his memory overlapped with Roze’s voice. Haven felt a headache as the sounds blended.
Flita.
The name had slipped from his lips when asked what the child’s name should be.
“Flita. That will be her name.”
He didn’t know why that name came out. He just felt it had to be. No—his mouth had spoken it on its own.
The child’s name was Flita.
Flita Gaunter.
He had no idea the name had a meaning, nor that it was the name of a wildflower.
It was far too ordinary and insignificant a name for the offspring of a duke, of a grand duke’s bloodline. That was probably why the steward had looked at him strangely back then.
“Now I understand why Yannick had that expression.”
Haven smiled slightly and carefully opened the door a bit more. Through the crack, he saw the child and maid. Perhaps wanting to be held after waking, Flita was in Roze’s arms, seated on the bed.
Like a gentle mother and daughter.
Roze gently stroked Flita’s head and spoke again.
“I heard that the Grand Duke gave you your name, Princess.”
“Yes… Father… cough… gave it to me.”
“He surely wished you would grow up strong like that flower. That’s why he named you Flita. To grow healthy, unharmed even in the harshest winter.”
“…Really?”
“Of course. Even your name carries that meaning. Surely the Grand Duke wouldn’t have chosen it randomly without knowing? He’s far too intelligent for that.”
Haven blushed. He had truly given the child her name without knowing its meaning. On impulse, unintentionally.
How could that be possible?
“To use the name of a flower I didn’t even know as the child’s name?”
Haven’s blue eyes shook in confusion. Meanwhile, Flita, seemingly cheered, coughed lightly and then smiled.
“I want to see my flower too. Cough… what does Flita look like? I’ve never seen it in the garden.”
“It’s a wildflower. You can see it easily in the countryside along roadsides, but… not so easily here. Once you’re healthy, we’ll go see flowers together.”
“Really?”
“Of course. But first, take your medicine and rest properly. That’s the only way you’ll recover quickly and we can go see flowers.”
Haven watched as Roze gave the child her medicine and laid her back in bed.
“….”
He quietly closed the door, careful not to make a sound, then moved the bucket of firewood to a spot just outside the bedroom where it could be seen when opening the door, and turned to leave.
Later…
“Sir Pedwin.”
“Good morning, Butler.”
Pedwin greeted Yannick, who opened the door, then entered the study. He frowned and approached Haven, who was seated at his desk.
“How many cups of tea have you had, Your Highness? You didn’t skip meals and only drink tea, did you?”
Pedwin frowned at the teacups on the desk, but Haven ignored the question, busy scanning documents. It was natural that Pedwin’s gaze shifted to the butler.
“…Ahem.”
The steward coughed awkwardly under the interrogating gaze, which was answer enough.
“Your Highness, I understand your loss of appetite out of concern for the Princess. But you must eat properly. What if you collapse first? You’ve barely slept at night, wandering near the annex like some… stray cat.”
“Sir Pedwin, I didn’t call you to hear your scolding.”
Haven signed the document and pushed it aside, stopping him. Pedwin, though displeased, fell silent.
Haven then spoke seriously.
“There’s something I need you to fetch.”
“…Please don’t tell me it’s ‘more firewood.’”
Pedwin joked lightly, trying to cheer his weary master worried about the sick Princess. Haven chuckled and shook his head.
“It’s not firewood.”
“Then… what? Just order, Your Highness. I’ll get anything.”
