Chapter 30
Agnès held back her tears and smiled brightly as she led Noah toward the garden they used to visit often together.
The moment they entered the familiar space, Noah’s expression began to relax.
He especially loved the small gazebo tucked away in the corner of the garden. It was quiet and peaceful — the perfect hiding place for a boy who disliked attention and crowds.
Agnès guided him there, and the two of them sat side by side on the bench.
“Pavel, you have what I asked for, right?”
“Of course, my lady. Here.”
Pavel handed her a small notebook and a pen he’d been keeping safe inside his coat.
“Thank you. Now, could you please give me and Noah a little space?”
“But…”
The other knights hesitated.
After all, this was Count Rickman Overhan’s property — a place where Agnès was anything but welcome.
And they didn’t know her well yet. There was still a trace of mistrust — a silent question in their eyes, wondering if she might do something reckless once left alone.
The tension broke when Pavel spoke up.
“My lady, if we stand far enough away that we can’t hear your conversation, will that be enough? Maybe by that tree?”
“Sir, if we’re too far, it’ll be harder to react in case of danger,” one knight warned.
“Oh, come on, Sir Daren! We’re knights of Basteron! We can handle an emergency from that distance. Besides, don’t you think the young master will be nervous if we stand right over him in full armor?”
Pavel turned to Noah, who was holding tightly onto Agnès and watching them warily.
But instead of being offended, Pavel exaggerated a friendly tone.
“See, young master? We’ll just be over there, by that tree. Not too far. All right?”
“…All right,” Agnès sighed. “That’ll do.”
The three knights finally stepped back, keeping their distance — but Agnès could still feel their eyes and attention fixed on her and Noah, ready to intervene at any moment.
Once they were alone, she wrapped her arms around Noah’s small shoulders, giving him a playful squeeze.
“Aren’t the knights amazing? Mommy’s been safe thanks to them. What about you, Noah? How have you been doing?”
She handed him the notebook and pen.
Noah grasped the pen carefully in his small hand and began to write in big, uneven letters.
“I studied hard. I practiced sword fighting too. Because I missed you, Mom.”
Each word stabbed softly at Agnès’s heart.
But she didn’t want him to see her sadness — she wanted him to see strength.
“That’s wonderful, Noah. But you remember what Mommy always says, right? Your health is the most important thing. Have you been eating well? Sleeping enough?”
Noah’s pen stopped. His eyes shifted nervously.
He wasn’t good at lying — but he also didn’t want to make her sad by shaking his head.
Agnès gently brushed his soft, reddish-brown curls and said with a tender smile,
“You have to eat well and sleep properly. That’s how you grow tall, study better, and get stronger with your sword. Everything starts from that, okay?”
Finally, Noah nodded hard. Then he quickly started writing again.
“Then can you come back now, Mom? Will Father let you?”
Agnès’s chest tightened.
Even such a small child understood.
He knew she hadn’t left this house by choice. He knew that in this place, the real master was Rickman, not her.
Which meant it was time for her to tell him the truth.
“Noah,” she said softly, “your father and I… got divorced. That means we decided not to be husband and wife anymore, not to live together. And now, I want to ask you something.”
Noah’s eyes widened — full of confusion and surprise.
“Would you like to leave this house and come live with me?” Agnès asked gently. “If you do, you might not be able to see your father often, but I promise I’ll do everything I can to make you happy.”
Some people might say explaining such things to a child was pointless.
But Agnès knew better.
Noah was being emotionally abused — maybe not through beatings, but through fear, pressure, and silence.
That was why he had lost his voice.
She had a duty, as his mother, to protect him — to stop things from getting worse.
But she also didn’t want to force him. She wanted his decision to be his own.
If he didn’t want to go with her, she wanted to know why. Was he scared? Did he not trust her enough?
Everything she did now was for his happiness.
Noah blinked rapidly, confused, and then slowly wrote again.
“Then are we going to your house?”
“Well…”
Agnès hesitated.
When she’d faced Rickman earlier, she had felt brave — stronger than ever before.
She had people on her side now. She could stand tall again.
But here, in front of this small, fragile child — all of that courage seemed to vanish.
Each word felt heavier, harder to say.
“It’s not really Mommy’s house,” she said finally. “But it’s a safe place. Somewhere we can stay together and not have to worry.”
Her voice was soft and uncertain. She hated how unsure she sounded — but she couldn’t lie to him.
“I’m sorry, Noah. I’ll explain it properly,” she said, forcing herself to keep her tone calm. “If you come with me, we’ll live somewhere new. It’s a little far from here… and maybe unfamiliar at first, but…”
Before she could finish, Noah tugged on her sleeve and scribbled quickly.
“Far away with Mom. I like that. I want to go.”
The letters were carefully written — the neatest she had ever seen from him.
That alone showed how important this moment was to him.
Agnès couldn’t hold back anymore. Tears spilled from her eyes as she pulled him tightly into her arms.
“Thank you, Noah. Thank you so much. I’ll do everything I can to make sure you never regret this choice.”
She wiped her tears quickly so he wouldn’t see them, then smiled again through the tremor in her voice.
“I want to tell you what’s happened to me — and what’s going to happen to you, okay?”
Holding his hands gently, she explained everything:
That she had met a good man who had helped her,
that they were getting married,
and that he wanted to make sure she and Noah could live together safely.
Most of all, she made sure he knew that she — not anyone else — wanted to live with him more than anything.
Noah had many questions, and the notebook quickly filled with lines ending in question marks.
Answering them took longer than she expected, but Agnès was patient.
She answered every single one.
When Noah realized she wouldn’t take him away immediately, he looked frightened again. Agnès shared that same fear — but she reassured him over and over.
Rickman might still care about appearances, but that would work in their favor.
He couldn’t afford to publicly mistreat his son now, not with everyone watching him.
So Agnès promised, over and over, that she would come back for him — soon.
This time, she wouldn’t be dragged away helplessly.
***
Later, she left the townhouse without even saying goodbye to Rickman.
When he heard, he hurled his teacup at the wall.
It shattered, and scalding tea splashed across a servant’s leg — but Rickman didn’t even glance at him.
“Agnès… That wretched woman…” he hissed. “How dare she ignore me?”
Fuming, he began pacing the office.
He wanted to summon Noah immediately and demand to know what they had talked about — but he stopped himself.
There was no need to ask. He already knew.
Agnès would have told the boy she was coming to take him. And the weak-hearted child probably said he wanted to go.
But Noah was still the heir to the House of Overhan.
Rickman clenched his fists.
He could discipline his son — but he couldn’t destroy him.
Not now, when all eyes were on him and his family.
