Chapter 36
Just as I was about to refute her words, the baroness twisted her lips into a smirk and turned toward Cerulean.
“If you truly cannot distinguish right from wrong, I’ll have no choice but to inform the Duchess of today’s rudeness. Then, His Grace will have to take responsibility for failing to teach his wife proper manners.”
“…!”
Since she had dragged Cerulean into it, I couldn’t step forward so easily. While I hesitated, she pulled Charles back toward the mansion.
I turned to Cerulean, unable to hold back my indignation.
“Is everything she said correct? Is it really acceptable to treat a child like that?”
“When it comes to raising children, even the family head cannot easily interfere. It is the mistress’s exclusive authority.”
“What if she hurts him through excessive discipline?”
“…Even so.”
Perhaps it was because I wasn’t a noble, but Cerulean’s calm response sounded strange to me.
I lowered my eyes gloomily and murmured,
“It’s so frustrating… A small child being dragged around like that, and we’re not allowed to say a word? No matter what, using force like that should be stopped.”
“That is something even His Grace cannot interfere with.”
It seemed the mistress’s authority in childrearing was accepted as absolute—far beyond what I had imagined.
I shook my head, muttering,
“The young lord looked like he was about to cry…”
Cerulean tilted his head slightly and asked curiously,
“Are you that worried about Charles?”
“I like teddy bears.”
“Teddy bears?”
“Chubby ones, like stuffed bears.”
Charles’s delighted face when he had received the little boutonnière came to mind—and also the soft arm that the Baroness had just yanked. There had been a clear handprint left on it.
How can no one say anything about this?
As I bit my lip, Cerulean, who had been quietly watching me, said,
“Even if you find the young lord endearing, he has nothing to do with you, does he?”
His voice, calm to the point of indifference, made me feel a little sad. Perhaps everyone who had passed through Cerulean’s life had been treated with the same detachment.
I was still lost for words when—
“Waaah!”
Charles fell, unable to keep up with Baroness Sage’s quick pace. But instead of comforting the crying child, she scolded him harshly.
“Get up! Aren’t you ashamed of yourself? You’ll be the future Duke of Luc!”
That was the last straw. I stepped forward without thinking, as if someone had pushed me.
“Baroness, that’s enough!”
“Miss Azhian.”
“Every child has the right to be loved and to live happily. The right to walk at their own pace, to be glad for the gifts they receive, and to talk with whomever they wish.”
The Baroness glared at me, still gripping Charles’s wrist tightly.
“I already warned you about overstepping your authority. You’ll be gossiped about for your low birth as it is—now you ignore my advice too? You don’t even know proper etiquette…”
“Madam, etiquette is just that—etiquette. It’s not meant to make someone miserable.”
“Miserable? Isn’t it arrogant of you to assume the young lord is unhappy?”
The Baroness yanked Charles’s wrist again.
“Young master, tell us yourself. Do you find what the Duchess and I do for you painful?”
“I-I…”
Charles’s eyes darted about nervously. I was about to shout for her to stop hurting him when—
“What’s all this noise?”
A deep voice rolled through the garden. The Duke of Luc himself appeared, walking toward us.
Judging by his riding breeches and loose-sleeved shirt, he must have been on his way to go riding.
I clenched my fists.
“Your Grace.”
His cool navy eyes swept over my attire briefly.
Before I could say a word, the Baroness quickly bowed low and raised her voice.
“Your Grace! The discipline of Young Master Charles is a right granted to me by the Duchess herself, yet Lady Azhian accused me of mistreating the child.”
Stunned, I looked up at the Duke and protested,
“The Baroness snatched away the boutonnière I gave the young lord, saying it didn’t suit him.”
“Because it didn’t. Young Master Charles is the heir of a ducal house. How could such a shabby trinket possibly suit him?”
The Baroness threw the teddy-bear boutonnière to the ground as if to prove her point.
The Duke, who had been watching silently, finally parted his lips—very, very slowly.
“…The Baroness is correct.”
At those words, I lowered my head and bit my lip hard. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the Baroness’s mouth curl into a small, triumphant smile.
“Indeed, Your Grace. The wedding is only a week away, and yet Lady Azhian remains ignorant of proper manners. Even the young master knows better.”
At her words, Charles’s shoulders drooped. His gaze stayed fixed on the teddy bear lying on the ground.
“Charles.”
It was the Duke who spoke his name.
Charles’s eyes went wide, like a startled goldfish. I realized instantly—it was the first time the Duke had ever called him by name.
“What do you want to do?”
“I…”
Charles looked again at the fallen boutonnière. His small lips began to part, but the Baroness hastily pulled his hand and whispered urgently,
“Young master, you know what will happen if you wear something like that…”
Her words were strange, but she trailed off, leaving their full meaning unclear.
“I… I don’t need it.”
“I see.”
The Duke turned on his heel. His deep voice came out cool and final.
“Just remember—it was your choice.”
Such words were far too heavy for a five-year-old.
But as if he had said all he needed to, the Duke’s broad back receded at his own unhurried pace. I quickly followed him.
“Wait, Your Grace!”
He must have sensed my approach, yet he didn’t slow down. I had to raise my voice.
When he finally stopped, his words caught me off guard.
“Are you upset that I didn’t take your side?”
So he had noticed. I shook my head and thrust something out toward him.
“That’s not it. Here. I bought this for you.”
What I held out was another boutonnière—the one I hadn’t given to Charles. I’d bought it because its navy check pattern reminded me of the Duke’s eyes. With a little flourish, I fanned my skirt and added,
“You said it didn’t suit you, but I like this color. Consider it my return gift.”
“I never said I didn’t like it.”
“But you said it was trivial.”
At that, the Duke frowned slightly, tilting his head.
“The woman I personally took to the dressmaker—you’re only the second.”
I waited for him to continue, but that was all he said. Then, without another word, he took the boutonnière from my hand with a swift, almost snatching motion.
What does that have to do with anything?
The second woman? So he did once have someone he loved?
As I pondered, the Duke strode off again, disappearing among the garden paths in seconds.
A moment later, Cerulean, who had followed me belatedly, spoke.
“You’ve grown quite close to His Grace without my noticing.”
“Really? It felt like he was the only one talking.”
“He doesn’t speak more than two words to anyone.”
How ironic. He’d said at least three to me.
I sighed softly through my nose—and then my eyes widened at the sight of the tiny teddy bear pinned to Cerulean’s chest.
“Oh, Cerulean! Why are you wearing that?”
“Because you picked it out.”
“Isn’t it a bit too cute for you? Not that it doesn’t suit you, of course.”
Cerulean was so beautiful he would look graceful even in rags; the little teddy bear seemed both fitting and not. Then I clapped my hands as realization struck.
Ah, so that’s why the dressmaker said that!
“You two must be such a loving couple.”
She must’ve thought I had bought the teddy bear boutonnière for Cerulean from the start.
When I’d first called him “kind,” I hadn’t believed it myself—but now…
I clapped and smiled brightly.
“It’s a great idea! People will talk about it if you wear it.”
Cerulean frowned slightly.
“Whatever you’re imagining, you’re mistaken. I’m wearing it because you chose it.”
“Isn’t that the same thing?”
“It means your action matters more than the object.”
His cryptic answer made me press my lips together. My heart began to pound again—definitely not healthy.
He’s wearing it because I picked it? Even though it doesn’t suit him, even though it was discarded… because it has meaning to him?
What kind of meaning could that possibly be?
I wanted to ask seriously, but before I could, Cerulean offered his hand with polite composure.
“Shall we resume the rehearsal?”
The memory of that near-kiss flashed in my mind, and my face turned tomato-red once more.
After shutting Charles in his room, Baroness Sage stomped down the corridor.
So self-righteous.
Edel Azhian’s voice kept echoing in her head.
“Every child has the right to be loved and to live happily!”
Rights? If a child wants to claim such rights, shouldn’t they first bring their parents perfect joy?
Not like… this uncertain, disappointing one.
When the Baroness entered her chambers, a brown-haired girl who had been reading a picture book ran up eagerly.
“Mother, I want to go outside.”
“No.”
“Please, Mother.”
Normally, she would have scolded her sternly and that would’ve been it. But today, her temper snapped.
“Do you even know why we’re trapped here in the first place? It’s all because of you!”
Her scream echoed through the room—followed by a voice she once thought angelic.
Back then, she hadn’t known it was the voice of a devil.
After all, when her husband had died suddenly, leaving her a young, ruined widow, only one person had reached out to her.
“Sage, I’m so glad we’re both expecting children at the same time. You really are my destined companion.”
By the time she realized that voice belonged to the devil—it was far, far too late.
