Chapter : 149
“Your Grace, the Grand Duchess!”
It was a voice both of them knew well.
Erika turned her head instinctively, then widened her eyes.
The moment she recognized them, a voice mixed half with joy and half with aching urgency burst unfiltered from her lips.
“Mr. Chopin! Sir Jorge!”
The two men pulled on their reins, gradually slowing their horses.
It was a good thing we waited.
With a flushed face, Erika rose from where she had been sitting. The moment she stood, her legs gave out and her body swayed—but Sebastian, who stood up right after her, hurriedly caught her, keeping her from falling.
Jorge reached them before Chopin.
“Whew…”
The journey must have been exhausting; the instant his feet touched the ground, Jorge bent his upper body nearly in half.
He let out long breaths again and again, steadying his breathing.
“Are you all right?”
Erika, who had already closed the distance, asked anxiously.
Only then did the young priest straighten up. His face was somewhat pale, but he nodded with a gentle smile on his lips.
“I’m relieved you’re safe. I couldn’t stop worrying after we had to turn back earlier. Seeing you again out here at last puts my heart at ease.”
Eyes that matched his soft voice carefully examined Erika’s face.
They were still warm—but unmistakably different from six years ago.
Was it joy?
No. It wasn’t only that.
Affection, longing… emotions too complex to define clearly rippled through Jorge’s green eyes.
He looked at Erika a moment longer, as if he had more to say but didn’t know where to begin. His lips parted slightly, then he swallowed the words he had been about to speak.
Only then did he shift his gaze to Sebastian, who stood beside her.
It had been a while for them as well, though not as long as with Erika.
So Jorge and Sebastian exchanged a brief look, skipping formal greetings.
“So it really was the Grand Duke who rescued the Grand Duchess right away.”
Erika tilted her head slightly.
‘Really was’…?
Noticing her confusion, Jorge smiled with narrowed eyes and added a brief explanation.
“Sir Chopin has been reporting your destination to the Grand Duke regularly.”
“So… that means Mr. Chopin really was Sebastian’s man?”
Sebastian offered no denial—only a meaningful smile.
Then he extended his right hand toward Jorge for a handshake.
“You should have been returning to the Holy Kingdom. Thank you for coming here in such haste at my request.”
“This was a matter our side also considered serious. Cooperation was only natural, so there’s no need to thank me.”
“I’m grateful you see it that way.”
As they exchanged a few words, Chopin finally arrived.
He was moving at a remarkably slow pace.
Erika took a breath.
First, tell him he’s worked hard and thank him. Then ask how the request went—whether he found her…
She tried to calmly organize what she needed to say and do, but it all became meaningless.
The moment she turned her head and saw the woman in Chopin’s arms, all thought stopped.
Strength drained from Erika’s tightly pressed lips, which slowly parted.
A small sound, like an unguarded sigh, slipped out.
“Ah…”
Her golden eyes trembled.
They stung.
It felt as though Chopin, Sebastian, and Jorge were speaking to her in turn—but none of it reached her. The words scattered and vanished.
All of Erika’s awareness was focused solely on the woman cradled in Chopin’s arms.
The woman’s face was turned toward his chest.
But that hair color—
Age had added streaks of white, but there was still far more pale pink than anything else—enough to recognize instantly.
…Yes. It’s her. Without a doubt.
The same color Jonathan Blanche had enclosed in a letter to threaten her not long ago.
The moment Erika realized it, her heart began pounding so violently it felt as though it echoed through her entire body.
Yet her body itself went rigid, like stone.
When Erika showed no reaction at all, Sebastian first gave Chopin a subtle look in her stead.
Only then did Chopin carefully dismount, still holding the unconscious middle-aged woman.
Facing Erika, he bowed politely and spoke in a grave voice she had never heard from him before.
“Your Grace. I’ve brought the person you asked for.”
Stagger. Stagger.
Her body swayed, her legs felt heavy.
But Erika kept walking, however slowly.
She had to see her face.
This time, even Sebastian merely watched with concern from behind, not stepping in to support her.
Biting her lip, Erika approached Chopin without a word.
“……”
Something surged repeatedly in her chest, and her slender throat bobbed several times.
She stood there silently, staring down at the woman in Chopin’s arms.
Chopin carefully adjusted his hold so her face could be seen.
Thanks to that, Erika could see her more clearly.
“…Hh.”
She sucked in a sharp breath without realizing it.
Her eyes trembled as she looked at Julia.
Roughened skin.
Deepened wrinkles.
A gaunt figure.
Julia’s condition was far worse than Erika remembered—and worse than she had imagined.
Her chest ached. Her heart felt shattered.
But… why is it…
Strangely, no tears came.
She had imagined this reunion for a long time.
She had been certain she would sob so hard she wouldn’t even be able to see her mother’s face properly.
But though the tip of her nose burned, no tears fell—almost as if every last drop of moisture had dried out of her body.
Is it because it doesn’t feel real…?
Erika stared at Julia’s face a little longer, then lowered her gaze.
She needed to confirm she was breathing.
Only after seeing Julia’s chest rise and fall—faintly, but clearly—did Erika finally feel relief.
“Priest Jorge used his divine power to aid her recovery,” Chopin explained.
Erika nodded faintly, barely perceptible.
Then she slowly raised her hand and lightly touched the tips of her fingers to Julia’s now-roughened hand.
At that moment—
Julia’s eyes, which had been peacefully closed, twitched.
Her eyelids slowly lifted, and Erika’s image gradually came into focus in her eyes.
Though nine years had been carved away in a single chunk, Julia recognized her daughter at once.
“E… Erika…”
Her lips, crusted with dried blood, moved several times before a strained voice finally emerged.
“My daughter.”
Chopin, sensing the moment, gently lowered Julia to the ground.
Though breathing heavily, Julia stood on her own feet. Still, she didn’t recklessly close the distance between herself and Erika.
“You’ve grown… so much. But I can tell. Erika. My daughter.”
Erika’s face, which had been stiff enough to be called expressionless, slowly began to crumple. She bit her lip, her brows drawing together.
Seeing her daughter like that, Julia smiled through tears and spoke again.
“Mom… Mom is… so… sorry.”
Unable to bear the weight any longer, tears spilled down her cheeks in long trails.
Julia spoke the words that had been knotted in her chest for years—the words she had to say before anything else.
“Your mother is so useless…”
Golden eyes just like her husband’s.
She had longed to see them, yet at the same time, they were unbearably hard to face.
Overwhelmed, Julia broke off, then struggled to catch her breath before continuing.
“Because I couldn’t protect you… Mom… Mom…”
Her self-reproach dissolved into sobbing.
There were no words she could offer Erika.
At the time, she had believed it was the best choice.
Nicholas had staked his own life to seal the child’s divine power.
With no time to properly mourn her husband’s death, Julia had fled—and fear immediately consumed her.
—
“‘Forever’ doesn’t exist. So, Julia, you must protect our Erika. When that time comes… I won’t be by our family’s side. I’m sorry—for placing such a heavy burden on you alone.”
