Chapter 29
Even though Dylan had given permission easily, Agnès hadn’t realized how much he was actually worrying.
To escort her to the Overhan townhouse, three knights were waiting — three.
Usually, even one knight was enough to mark a noblewoman as important and distinguished. But these weren’t ordinary knights; they were elite members of the Basteron Order. Three of them was… excessive, to say the least.
Agnès tried, as usual, to politely refuse, saying it was too much. But Pavel quickly pleaded with her to stop arguing.
“My lady, they originally wanted to send five! I begged them to make it three — told them you wouldn’t like being surrounded, that it would be rude to the other house. Please, I’ve been arguing all morning — my lips are about to fall off.”
Pavel dramatically pulled on his own lips to prove his point. The two knights beside him smacked him lightly on the back of the head and shoulders, scolding him to behave properly in front of a lady.
Agnès couldn’t help but laugh a little. In the end, she had no choice but to ride to the Overhan townhouse under the protection of all three knights.
When their carriage arrived at the townhouse gates, the knights stepped forward to announce themselves. The moment they mentioned the Duke of Basteron’s name, the house butler came rushing out in a panic.
That was the same man who hadn’t even bothered to appear the last time Agnès had come alone.
Now, seeing him scramble to bow and stammer, she clearly felt the power of Dylan’s name.
The butler ran back inside, and soon the gates swung open.
“Finally…”
Agnès’s smile was faint but tight — a mix of relief, frustration, and bitter irony.
For six years, she had stood before this same door — as Lady Everchen, the Countess of Overhan — knocking, waiting, enduring.
And now, with the Duke’s protection behind her, it opened instantly.
The thought left her both angry and hollow. But most of all, she felt relief.
Yes — she had made the right choice. With Dylan’s help, she would bring Noah back.
But before that, there was one last thing she had to do — the most important task of all.
“…Where is the Count?” she asked the butler — the man she had seen every day for years, but who had never truly been her ally.
The butler clutched his hands tightly together, his voice shaking.
“He’s in his office, my lady.”
Agnès didn’t wait for him to offer to lead her. She walked straight past him into the house.
The butler tried to stop her, but when he saw the three knights following behind, he froze like a frightened dog and stepped aside.
Finding the office was easy. This house was one she had personally managed and cared for — every room, every corridor familiar to her.
She could have walked it blindfolded.
She reached the office without hesitation.
The maid standing guard looked equally nervous. She knocked on the door and slipped inside to announce Agnès’s arrival.
Agnès waited outside — standing straight, holding her composure — and refused to barge in uninvited.
“My lady— oh!”
When the maid reappeared, she gasped and covered her mouth.
“I—I mean, not ‘my lady,’ um…”
“The title doesn’t matter,” Agnès said gently. “Just tell me what he said.”
“Th-the master says you may enter.”
Agnès nodded once and stepped inside as the maid opened the door.
Rickman’s office hadn’t changed at all.
Bright sunlight streamed through the tall windows, so strong it nearly blinded her. Rickman sat with the light behind him, his face hidden in shadow.
It was deliberate, of course — a psychological trick. Visitors couldn’t see his expression clearly while he could study theirs. It made him seem dominant, in control.
Once, that used to intimidate Agnès. She used to lower her gaze immediately.
Now, it just looked petty.
She raised her hand to shade her eyes and walked forward, ignoring his little power play.
Rickman frowned, clearly annoyed that his tactic hadn’t worked. He folded his hands under his chin and leaned back in his chair.
“So, the monster’s shadow wasn’t enough for you, huh? What brings you crawling out?”
His rude words made one of the knights reach for his sword, but the senior knight quickly raised a hand, silently stopping him.
Rickman only smirked, mocking them all.
Agnès suddenly remembered what Pavel had said.
He’s either confident in his strength or completely insane.
Rickman wasn’t a man of action — he prided himself on being “clever.” So clearly, it was the latter.
Agnès didn’t bother responding to his provocations. She had no time for madness.
“I want to see Noah before the custody trial begins,” she said firmly.
Rickman shot up from his chair, eyes blazing.
“Custody trial? You’re really going through with that nonsense?!”
“Yes,” Agnès replied calmly. “You’ll get the official notice soon. But for today, I just want to see Noah.”
Rickman glared at her, one hand on his hip, full of anger.
Once upon a time, that look would have made her flinch — but not anymore.
The servants nearby exchanged shocked looks.
They’d never seen her stand up to him before.
But the truth was, Agnès was the most surprised of all.
A few days ago, the mere thought of Rickman’s fury would have made her tremble. Now, she felt nothing.
Maybe it was because she had already faced him at the party — maybe because she had already broken free.
Once you overcome a fear, it loses its power over you forever.
The man she had once thought she’d serve for the rest of her life was now… nothing.
“Let me make this clear,” she said evenly. “Even if you refuse, I’ll find a way to see him today. So if you care about your reputation, you’d better—”
Suddenly, the door burst open.
A small figure ran inside and threw himself into her arms.
She didn’t even need to look down to know who it was.
“Noah…”
Agnès immediately bent down, wrapping her arms around him tightly.
As she breathed in, the familiar scent of his hair filled her chest — warm, pure, and achingly familiar.
The emptiness that had weighed her down for months vanished in an instant.
“Can’t you control that child?!” Rickman barked behind her.
“I’m sorry, sir!” the nursemaid stammered. “He insisted— I couldn’t stop him!”
Agnès ignored them both completely. She pulled Noah closer, as if she could shield him from the entire world.
“Noah… my Noah…”
The little boy clung to her just as tightly, his small hands gripping her dress as his lips moved rapidly — trying to speak, trying so hard to form words that refused to come out.
He couldn’t speak — not yet. The words fell apart before reaching his tongue, leaving only desperate, breathless sounds.
Seeing how hard he struggled made her chest ache.
Gently, she pulled back, resting a soothing hand on his chest.
“It’s okay, Noah. Take your time. Breathe first,” she whispered.
Her voice calmed him. Slowly, his trembling emerald eyes softened.
But his hand — still clutching her skirt — refused to let go, as if afraid that if he loosened his grip, she would disappear again.
“Noah…”
Agnès covered his tiny hand with her own and rose to her feet, turning toward Rickman.
“I’m going to speak with Noah alone for a while,” she said calmly. “That’s all right, isn’t it?”
Her tone was polite, but there was steel behind it — the clear message that she wouldn’t take no for an answer.
Rickman gave a short, bitter laugh.
“Why? So you can ask him who he wants to live with? I told you before — it doesn’t matter what you want, or what he wants.”
“If it doesn’t matter, then it shouldn’t be a problem, should it?”
Agnès smiled faintly. “Thank you for agreeing.”
Rickman glared at her, speechless with disbelief, as she took Noah’s hand and walked out.
The knights bearing the Basteron crest followed closely behind, keeping a protective distance around them.
Neither the butler nor the maids dared to stop her.
Agnès smiled gently down at Noah, not wanting him to be scared by the tension in the air.
But the boy’s face was still full of worry. He clung to her hand like his life depended on it.
And in that moment, Agnès finally understood.
Noah wasn’t afraid of seeing his parents argue.
He was afraid she would be dragged away again — humiliated, forced to leave — and that he’d never see her again.
Her throat tightened, tears threatening to spill.
But she couldn’t cry. Not now.
Because if she cried, Noah would only grow more afraid.
So she took a deep breath, squeezed his hand, and smiled again — a mother’s smile, trembling but full of love.
