IWPU 14

The garden of the Marquisate was so overgrown that it felt almost embarrassing to call it a noble’s garden. Typically, the design of such gardens reflected the taste of the lady of the house. In fact, the beauty of the garden was often tied directly to her pride. That’s why most noblewomen were so invested in maintaining their gardens. But the Marchioness lacked talent for it—or more precisely, she had no interest.

Well, I doubt she’s ever cared about anything other than the Marquis.

I strolled leisurely through the garden. The soft crunch of the green grass under my feet was soothing. A pleasant breeze drifted under the warm sunlight. I fully enjoyed the moment of peace.

The one thing Bionne and Lee Jia had in common was that they had both lived very busy lives. Bionne was consumed by love, and Lee Jia was constantly struggling to survive. It had been ages since I’d felt this kind of relaxation.

Rustle.

With my eyes closed and basking in the sunlight, I heard the sound of branches rustling. This was the innermost part of the mansion’s garden—reserved solely for the lady of the house. No one was allowed in here without permission. Even the Marquis, the master of the house, needed approval to enter.

With the Marchioness gone, I was now the mistress of this mansion. I had specifically ordered the nanny and all the maids to leave me alone.

I turned to look for the intruder.

A bush about ten steps away was shaking violently. I approached it cautiously.

The shrub was about my height and looked similar to a rose bush, with sharp thorns jutting out like spikes. I carefully grabbed a thorn-free section and pushed. The tightly interwoven vines wouldn’t budge. Then it shook again, more vigorously this time. I stepped back and peered into the dense foliage, bracing myself in case some dangerous animal leapt out.

A small, black lump stirred within the bush, causing it to sway. It looked like the lump was struggling to get out.

I hesitated. The thorns looked extremely sharp.

I really hate getting hurt…

After a short deliberation, I began breaking off the thorns, making it easier to grip the vines. I was genuinely curious about what was hiding inside.

This was the garden of a heavily guarded mansion—there shouldn’t be any wild animals. I pulled on the now thorn-free vines with all my strength.

The bush parted, and the black lump tumbled out. I had expected a small animal like a rabbit or raccoon, but this was bigger. And it wasn’t an animal at all.

It was a small child.

The child, covered in scrapes and bruises, seemed to have suffered inside the bush for quite a while. Curled up and trembling, the child looked no older than five or six.

The child raised their head. Their dark brown eyes resembled those of an abandoned puppy.

Looks just like Ddorong…

Those eyes reminded me of Ddorong, the dog I’d raised during my time as Lee Jia. Ddorong had golden fur and brown eyes and used to follow me around, wagging his tail. The memory felt vivid.

“……”

“……”

The child looked up at me, wary and silent. I bent down and pressed my finger into the child’s chubby cheek.

“……!”

Startled, the child flopped backward. I crouched and peered down.

Confusion filled the child’s expression—it was so exaggerated that it practically screamed, “What’s going on?” I couldn’t help but laugh.

I pinched the child’s cheek between my thumb and forefinger. It was soft and elastic, like mochi.

Maybe I pinched too hard—tears welled up in the child’s brown eyes. They didn’t make a sound, just silently teared up. The look reminded me of Ddorong, sitting obediently with a treat in front of him, waiting for my command.

This is… dangerous. I might develop a very strange hobby.

I wasn’t the type to enjoy tormenting children, but something about this one made it too tempting. The reactions were immediate, and the resemblance to my childhood dog, Ddorong, was striking. Plus, under all the dirt and leaves, the child had the same navy blue hair as the Marquis.

“Did you find him?”

“No, I don’t see anything.”

“Where the hell could that little brat have gone?”

Just as I reached out again to tug on the child’s cheek, voices rang out nearby.

Annoyance flared up within me. No one was allowed into this part of the garden without my explicit permission. This intrusion into my space irritated me.

“What’s going on?”

“Gasp!”

“M-Milady!”

I stood up. The maids, clearly not expecting to find me here, gasped and bowed deeply.

“I asked what’s going on.”

“Um… w-well…”

They exchanged anxious glances, hesitating to speak. I stared them down.

“You barged into my garden without permission and now won’t even answer? Am I to take this as open defiance?”

“N-no, milady!”

“It’s our fault, please forgive us!”

“Please show mercy!”

The maids dropped to their knees, begging.

I glanced at the child still sprawled at my feet. The child looked up at me, anxious eyes trembling.

Apparently, the maids hadn’t seen the child behind the bush. Or even if they had, they were too panicked by my presence to notice. Their heads remained pressed to the ground.

“Please have mercy, milady.”

“We were wrong. Please forgive us.”

Even without their explanation, I understood—their frantic search had been for this child. I casually spread out my skirt to hide him from view.

“You’re noisy. Just leave.”

“Excuse me… what?”

The maids looked up, startled. I waved my hand dismissively.

“I said leave. I’ll inform the nanny about this, so prepare yourselves for a scolding.”

“Th-thank you, milady!”

“Thank you!”

“Just go already.”

They exchanged glances, then quickly bowed again before fleeing the garden.

Once they were gone, I looked down at the child. He was still in the same position, clutching the hem of my skirt tightly. I crouched again and met his gaze.

Hmm…

The fact that the maids had trespassed into the Marchioness’s garden just to find him meant he was important to them. Of course, they couldn’t have guessed I’d be here—I rarely visited the garden. Especially not this one, which had been left unattended for years. They wouldn’t have imagined I’d be in the late Marchioness’s private space.

“So, what should I do with you?”

I gently poked the child’s cheek again. His brown eyes darted around nervously.

Just like before, his plump cheeks were softer than mochi. Addictive, almost. I pulled again, enjoying the texture.

“Why did you come out here?”

He said nothing. His eyes filled with tears, but not a single whimper escaped. If I didn’t already know who he was, I might’ve assumed he was mute.

Lant Berron Elient.

That was his name.

Aside from his brown eyes, Lant looked exactly like the Marquis—like a miniature version of him.

The Marquis brought Lant into the house shortly after the Marchioness’s death. I didn’t even know about the boy’s arrival until much later. The nanny cried bitterly, wailing for days, mourning the Marchioness.

I hated Lant. The idea that I was no longer the Marquis’s only child wounded my pride. Unlike me, Lant unmistakably resembled him—anyone could tell they were father and son. I didn’t like that the Marquis had given Lant a separate residence in the annex either. To me, it was a sign that he cared for the boy.

Until I entered the palace as the crown princess, I tormented Lant. I had the maids tamper with his food, picked fights over nothing, and ordered the servants to beat him.

No one stopped me.

I was the designated crown princess. No one dared defy me. On the contrary, people tried to gain my favor by tormenting Lant on their own.

The only one who could have stopped me—the Marquis—remained silent. He knew what I was doing and chose to ignore it. His indifference made me bolder.

Lant endured everything silently. He never screamed, even when beaten. His stoicism only enraged me more. It reminded me of the Marquis—how no matter how much I begged for affection, he remained unmoved.

Lant was always covered in wounds. Some were serious enough to leave permanent scars. He even came close to dying once. Yet no one intervened.

Thinking back now, it was strange.

Lant was the only heir to the Elient family. The Marquis never officially declared it, but there was no one else to inherit the title.

The Elients were known for having few children. The previous Marquis was an only child, and the current one had only me and Lant. He supposedly had a younger brother, but he died long ago.

As a woman, I couldn’t inherit the family. My husband could, but only if there were no male heirs left. And at the time, I was to marry the Crown Prince. Unless the Marquis remarried and had another son—or adopted one—Lant would become the next Marquis.

The Marquis never publicly acknowledged Lant as his son, nor did he reveal who the mother was. He simply brought him into the annex and gave him a noble’s education. But even without confirmation, no one doubted it. Looking at Lant was like seeing a younger copy of the Marquis.