Chapter 8

“…If I could go back to the time before my wife left… I would never let her go.”

He wasn’t speaking only to the young lady who had addressed him—his words were meant for everyone to hear.

In a voice that carried more than it should have, Edward looked toward the place where Angela’s coffin had been buried.

“Forever at my side.”

The tone of his voice and the expression on his face struck Dylan with a powerful realization.

It isn’t a lie….

Dylan easily recognized the dark, genuine emotion in Edward’s words.

Edward truly meant it.

The Duke of Devonshire never wished for Angela’s death.

Therefore, it could not have been an accident caused on purpose.

I thought perhaps the Duke had changed his mind…

But he now understood that Edward still loved her.

Edward could not tear his gaze away from the coffin where his wife slept—an image that reminded Dylan of Angela’s wedding.

On that day, dressed in a pure white gown, Angela had looked more vibrant and happy than anyone.

If he had known she would leave so soon, he would have spoken to her more—shared more conversations.

The memory of Angela approaching him with a bright greeting, someone he had once considered only a passing acquaintance, filled him with a mixture of regret and bitterness.

Dylan finally turned away.

He walked toward a place where no more pathetic chatter or sobbing could be heard.

“Excuse me.”

Angela soon left her seat, asking the Marquess Kruger for permission.

The sorrow of watching her family grieve had become too much to bear.

She went to a quiet corner of the church where no one else could see her and collapsed.

How could she ease this pain?

Crouching down, she let her tears fall. If she could cry here, in a place where no one would disturb her, perhaps she could calm her heart.

She had not been able to cry anywhere else—so if she could release everything here….

It was then that, around the corner, an unexpected figure appeared, and their eyes met.

“Why are you crying here?”

“Duke…?”

How long had he been listening? Angela could not tell, but she could sense that Dylan regarded her with incomprehension.

“Because I’m sad….”

“?”

“It’s a funeral.”

“I didn’t realize the Kruger young lady and the Duchess of Devonshire were so close.”

Taken off guard, she blurted out an excuse, but Dylan responded as if it were nothing.

He did not seem to believe her.

When did Dylan come here? I don’t remember seeing him at the temple earlier.

Thoughts raced through Angela’s mind.

Of all places to meet him like this—she quickly wiped her tears with her hand, embarrassed at being seen crying.

“Duke, what are you doing here…?”

“That is what I should be asking you.”

Dylan crossed his arms, sounding mildly exasperated. After studying her awkward expression for a moment, he finally spoke.

“Have you recovered?”

“Ah….”

His words reminded her of what had happened recently.

“Thank you so much for the other day. I truly owe you a great debt, Duke.”

Marquess Kruger had already sent a gift of gratitude, which Dylan had returned—Angela was aware of that as well.

“That wasn’t why I brought it up.”

Dylan frowned, as if the words were unnecessary.

“I do not want there to be any sort of debt between the Kruger young lady and me. You don’t need to mention owing anything, either. If someone had fallen into the river, I would have saved them regardless.”

His tone suggested that it should have been obvious.

Angela realized her mistake.

Now that she possessed Penelope’s memories, she understood why Dylan had kept his distance from Penelope.

“You didn’t want to be tied to me in any way, did you?”

At her question, Dylan gave a brief, curt nod.

Then he fell silent, as if thinking.

Angela watched his face, wondering what he would say next.

Perhaps he had been forced to grow up too quickly.

His refined features now carried a sharper edge than before—an air that made it difficult to approach him carelessly.

I wish I could have spoken with Dylan properly, about how things had been all this time.

Angela regretted that she could not reveal her identity.

The same was true for Dylan.

In a tone that sounded strangely bitter, he finally spoke.

“I detest when misfortunes pile up one after another. That is the only reason I saved you.”

With nothing more to say, Dylan left without waiting for a reply.

‘Tragic…?’

His broad back as he walked away looked weary, as if all his strength had been drained.

Does Dylan also grieve my death?

It might have been an overreach to assume so—but the feeling lingered, and Angela watched him with a strange expression.

That day, Angela returned to the Marquess’s residence once the funeral ended, never revealing her identity to the Kruger family.

I cannot keep living in limbo forever.

She had to decide what to do next.

Unlike the “Duchess of Devonshire,” who had lived like a bird in a cage, Penelope had a proper profession in society.

It was only a brief leave due to the accident in the river. Now Angela had to take over Penelope’s work.

I have her memories. I can do this.

Angela resolved to try living as Penelope.

I will reveal my identity to my family once Edward’s interest has completely faded.

She could not spend her days crying and doing nothing. The late Penelope would not have wanted her to remain broken and helpless in her body.

If I were the Kruger young lady, I would be decisive.

But no matter how she thought about it, one thing seemed impossible.

In the reception room of the Devonshire manor.

Edward sat across from a middle-aged woman dressed in refined attire.

Even the simple act of drinking tea carried an air of dignity, though her tightly pressed lips made her seem stubborn.

“What brings you here, Mother?”

The woman was his birth mother—the Empress Dowager.

Hearing his question, she frowned.

“How hurtful. Is that any way to speak to your mother, who came to see you?”

“I heard you were unwell.”

He pointed out that she had used her health as an excuse to avoid Angela’s funeral. Her eyes narrowed.

“You know, don’t you?”

It was not something only the nobility had noticed—Edward could not have been unaware.

“Were you perhaps resentful that I did not attend?”

“It was necessary to appear, at least for the sake of appearances.”

The funeral had been attended by the Emperor himself—what greater honor could there be?

The Empress Dowager, unwilling to yield, looked at him sharply as Edward sighed softly.

“Then why are you here? I asked you not to come to the manor unannounced.”

“But the girl is no longer here, is she?”

As they spoke, the Empress Dowager felt the tension. She had come all this way, yet Edward addressed her with politeness that felt distant—treating his mother as if she were an inconvenience.

Just because I missed the funeral….

“Do not visit the manor again in the future. If you wish to see me, I will come to you.”

After becoming independent in his own residence, Edward had restricted his mother’s sudden visits.

He claimed it was for Angela’s sake.

It’s all because of that girl.

He had once adored his mother, yet after meeting Angela, he had changed completely.