Chapter 72
The granddaughter he had sent away to rest came back—holding a child in her arms.
Not a lover. Not a fiancé. A daughter.
For a brief moment, he thought he’d misheard. But seeing her hugging the child tightly in both arms, he realized his ears were perfectly fine.
It felt just like the time he had led ten holy knights and come face-to-face with six black mages and hundreds of monsters. His jaw wouldn’t close. Then, belatedly, the words from Charlotte’s letter came to mind.
“…Come to think of it, you did say there was a child. Is this the one you were taking care of?”
The marquis forced himself to stay calm and asked in a steady tone. When Charlotte nodded, he was half-relieved.
He had already heard through carrier pigeons that Nostri had been sealed off. When a lockdown order was issued, every inhabitant of that land had to leave the north— even orphans without parents.
Usually, a lord would arrange a temporary shelter for such children. He assumed Charlotte had cared for this one personally and had grown attached enough to bring her back. The Marquis Blanche immediately noticed how special this child, Aria, was to his granddaughter.
Charlotte had always been affectionate but was also a child who, having endured deep wounds, rarely opened her heart to others. Yet, her gaze toward Aria was filled with unmistakable warmth. It had been years since he’d seen her look at anyone like that. He was relieved that sending her to Nostri hadn’t been the wrong decision—but also puzzled.
When Charlotte introduced the child, she said, “This is my daughter.”
Was that just a nickname? Calling an orphan “daughter” out of affection wasn’t the best idea, especially if the child was to be sent elsewhere later. But since it was Charlotte’s decision, he didn’t intend to interfere.
“You said the child’s name is Aria?”
“Yes, Grandfather.”
The Marquis Blanche stepped toward the girl.
Aria blinked her round eyes and tilted her head slightly from side to side. She didn’t cry or show fear, even when faced with a giant of a man—once commander of the Holy Knights. That alone was remarkable.
“She may stay in the estate until the lockdown ends. Since when have you cared for her? If you wish, I can find her good parents.”
“That won’t be necessary. I plan to continue taking care of Aria myself.”
Continue taking care of her? Did she mean she intended to personally find the child’s parents—or something else?
Unable to fully grasp Charlotte’s meaning, the marquis watched as she handed Aria over to Ash for a moment. Then, with a determined expression, she stepped closer and whispered quietly:
“Grandfather… I’m going to adopt Aria.”
“What?”
The Marquis Blanche reflexively repeated the word.
His one and only granddaughter—his cherished flower—wanted to adopt a child. Not a newborn, but a girl who looked four or five years old. It was shocking enough to hear such words after marriage, but before marriage? He was at a complete loss. What on earth had happened in Nostri to make her decide something like this?
“Marquis, I believe both the young lady and the duke must be tired after such a long journey. Shall we head inside first?”
“…Yes. That would be best.”
The butler quickly stepped forward, respectfully guiding Charlotte and Ash—returning home after so long—into the manor. The marquis had only been worried for Charlotte’s safety and never expected this kind of situation. He was flustered, but decided to remain calm.
He was just about to instruct the servants to keep their mouths tightly shut about what they’d seen when he again met Aria’s eyes.
Now back in Charlotte’s arms, Aria peeked her small head out over her shoulder. The marquis was struck by how eerily similar those bright blue eyes looked to Charlotte’s. He hadn’t noticed before, but now he saw it clearly. Their resemblance was uncanny—even in small details like the roundness of their foreheads, their large eyes, and their long, full lashes.
Where in the world did she find a child who looks this much like her?
Her skin was spotless and fair as snow, her hair and lashes were white like frost, and her eyes a clear shade of blue—the same hue as Charlotte’s. One could easily believe they were blood-related.
Even the way she tilted her head when she smiled, or the way she referred to herself by name instead of “I,” reminded him of Charlotte’s childhood.
He was astonished by how much they resembled each other. Then, Aria lifted her tiny hand and waved at him.
The marquis unconsciously raised his own hand slightly, then lowered it again—without realizing what he was doing. The child had an odd lack of fear toward strangers. Instead, she kept smiling brightly at him, as though they had met many times before.
Charlotte thought Ash would be the right person to explain what had happened in Nostri. He had originally planned to hear everything directly from her, but knowing that any conversation with his granddaughter would likely drift back to Aria, he called Ash to his study first.
Ash had spent his entire youth braving freezing snowstorms. The marquis had worried he might not adapt to the warm capital weather, but he adjusted surprisingly well. Wearing only light indoor clothes, Ash knocked on the door.
“I didn’t expect my old room to still be here.”
“That was Ronan’s request. He said that after years in the cold, you’d long for warmth someday.”
Even after Ash had left, Ronan had kept his promise to a comrade. He’d only moved the room to the end of the second-floor corridor, leaving all of Ash’s old furniture and belongings as they were. Each season, he had new clothes hung neatly in the wardrobe—just in case Ash ever returned. After Ronan’s death, the marquis continued that care himself.
“You must’ve had a hard journey from the north, but I think I need an explanation.”
“How much have you already heard?”
“I’ve been informed about the monster attack and the capture of the Kenis couple. I’ll hear the rest during the joint council.”
Given the nature of the situation, most reports had been sent through carrier birds rather than in person. Typical of a former Holy Knight commander, the marquis had already grasped the main details—but he seemed far more concerned about Charlotte than any political issue.
He didn’t seem to know that Charlotte had burned through hordes of monsters and thrown herself into the flames to save Aria.
Ash thought carefully about how to explain everything so that the marquis could truly understand Charlotte’s decision to adopt Aria—and whether he was the right person to do it.
“How far back should I start?”
“From the beginning.”
“I don’t know exactly how the young lady met Aria.”
The marquis’s brows rose slightly.
“When I found her, she had wrapped her cloak around the child and was holding her tightly. She said Aria had been abandoned in the winter forest.”
Ash began from that moment—how Charlotte had met Aria, how they had lived together afterward. He summarized most of it but made sure to describe, in vivid detail, the events that had caused Charlotte to begin thinking of Aria as her own daughter.
When Ash mentioned how much brighter Charlotte had become while living with Aria, and how heartbroken she had been at the thought of sending her away, the marquis quietly sighed.
It was a relief that Charlotte hadn’t spent her time in Nostri lonely and isolated. It was even better to hear that she had met people and not shut herself up in the manor. But even so, he couldn’t easily accept her plan to adopt Aria. Charlotte was affectionate by nature; perhaps she had been swept up by emotion.
Sensing his doubts, Ash added softly,
“I don’t know the full extent of what happened between the young lady and Aria, but I think it’s better that you hear it directly from her. Still… if I may say one thing.”
“…Go on.”
“Her decision isn’t impulsive.”
Ash recalled Charlotte gripping a dagger in hands that had never even held a weapon before, trying to break open the carriage door.
“If it were just impulse, she wouldn’t have charged into a horde of monsters and into the flames to save the girl kidnapped by the Kenis couple.”
“What—? Charlotte ran into flames?!”
Of course, the marquis hadn’t heard that part. The thought that his precious, fragile granddaughter—the one Ronan had raised like a treasure—had thrown herself into fire for a child was unbelievable. But Ash wasn’t the type to exaggerate, which only made it harder to process.
“Explain that in detail.”
Ash obliged—though slightly embellishing the story. He said she had shot her crossbow at the ground to scatter the monsters, set the surroundings ablaze, rushed into the fire without hesitation, rescued Aria, and even fought off monsters with a dagger.
The marquis knew very well how terrifying monsters were—creatures of pure aggression who would attack even a crying infant without pause. The thought of Charlotte facing them to save Aria astonished him. Learning that she had cried endlessly after having to let Aria go made his chest ache.
“Charlotte is extremely sensitive to how others see her,” he said after a long silence.
“If she announces that she’s adopting a child, the whole social circle will erupt with gossip and curiosity. They’ll all turn their eyes on her—and that kind of attention would be poison.”
If Charlotte had grown up loved, and not as a constant target for society’s cruel rumors, perhaps he wouldn’t oppose it so strongly. He might’ve even told her to find a good husband first. But reality was different. Even if she married into a respectable family, society would tear her apart. No amount of influence could stop the whispers behind her back.
He could no longer stand to see his beloved granddaughter get hurt again.
“I’ll still hear her out, but I can’t agree to the adoption,” he finally said.
“I understand.”
“…And yet, thinking about it, I can’t bring myself to oppose her too harshly either.”
The Marquis Blanche sighed again.
“She must already know what kind of storm this will cause. And yet she still brought the child here and said she’ll adopt her. If that’s the case…”
“…”
“How could I possibly break that resolve?”
