Chapter 19
“Are you talking about the contract?”
Ignoring Dorian’s question, I slowly walked toward Lewin.
Before bringing this up, I needed to make sure he was really asleep.
I waved my hand gently over his face, and thankfully, the child’s breathing remained steady.
“When Lewin grows up, he’ll realize I’m not his mother.”
Staring quietly at the sleeping Lewin, I finally spoke.
“This isn’t something we should talk about here. If he wakes up and hears it, that would be bad.”
The duke nodded.
We handed Lewin to Eva and Hartmann, who had rushed over late, and moved elsewhere.
I thought we would go to the drawing room, but instead, Dorian brought me to his study. Both walls were lined with bookshelves, yet the entire wall opposite the door was glass, letting plenty of light in.
A spacious desk sat with its back to the window.
Strangely, although glowing stones were set into the ceiling, he still kept a candle on the desk.
A candle that burned brightly, even though there was no sign of dripping wax.
I stared intently at it, wondering whether it was real, then cautiously reached my hand toward it.
Immediately, the heat made me recoil, grimacing.
Dorian, already seated at his desk before I even noticed, watched this and laughed.
“Miss Rohella, you’re quite curious.”
“Well, yes, I guess I am. If I weren’t, I never would’ve gotten into the Academy as a commoner.”
I deflected casually and took the seat across from his desk.
Honestly, ever since Dorian offered me the position of nanny and private tutor, I had been thinking the same thing. And Dorian must have known as well—there is an expiration date to this position.
Just because I graduated from Rembrandt Academy doesn’t mean I can handle the entire education of a duke’s heir.
When Lewin realizes I’m not his mother and grows capable of protecting himself, my role will disappear.
A commoner-born nanny and tutor. For now, I might be able to serve as a place of comfort for Lewin, but the position was far too grand for someone like me.
And that’s probably why Dorian didn’t tell me everything he had been suspecting.
The candlelight flickered on the desk, creating irregular shadows. Dorian wrote at the top with his fountain pen:
[Contract]
Neat, straight, impeccably tidy handwriting.
Wow…
The admiration escaped me without thinking—only briefly.
“I’ll write down what we discussed earlier, without any changes.”
Dorian was practically a living printer. He must have learned penmanship as part of his successor training.
At remarkable speed—and without a single stroke ruined—he began writing down everything we had previously talked about orally.
That I would serve as Lewin’s private tutor and nanny; that the ducal household would protect me no matter what during my employment; that in Lewin’s presence, my status would be that of the former duchess.
And therefore, whenever Lewin was around, Dorian would have to address me as “Mother.”
Without the slightest hesitation, he added that clause. Considering how stubbornly he had avoided using that title earlier, he was writing it now without batting an eye.
After writing in the salary I would receive, he looked up at me.
“Is there anything else that should be added?”
I knew I should answer, but the number written in the salary field made me speechless.
He added it casually, without even discussing it with me beforehand—and it was enough money that working just two years would allow me to buy a frontier barony.
My mind raced.
I was only thinking about earning enough to live on… but maybe I could become a noble for life?
Most of the salary would go into buying the title, of course, but if I bought a coastal barony… and just distributed frozen seafood…
“Once Lewin grows up and realizes you’re not his mother, you must have something you want to say after that point.”
Dorian’s prodding brought me back to reality.
“Ah—um, yes. I want to specify a contract duration.”
One of his eyebrows rose. I ignored it and rested my chin on my hand atop the desk.
Then I looked at him directly and spoke.
“I’ll act as the former duchess in front of Lewin, but eventually he’ll realize the truth. And the servants and outsiders already know I’m not the duchess.”
Until now, things had been chaotic enough that I hadn’t thought about it, but there was no way news of the ducal couple’s death hadn’t spread through society.
Was it a carriage accident? For both members of a ducal couple to die at once, the accident must have been…
Just as I started drifting into my thoughts again, Dorian spoke up at the perfect moment.
“Yes. And the train accident was widely reported.”
A train accident! Hearing that jogged my memory—I remembered even the commoners’ newspaper covering a major train incident.
I had only skimmed the headline, though. Trains had nothing to do with someone like me.
I quickly responded.
“So I can only act as the former duchess inside the mansion. And the moment Lewin realizes the truth, it ends. Lewin is six now, so he’ll figure it out within a year or two.”
By then he would also know how to use magic tools.
“Staying longer would only confuse him.”
I was from Rembrandt Academy, so I could teach him through primary levels—but staying longer wouldn’t help him.
Once he understood death, and processed the death of his real family… if someone who resembled his mother was still around, how could he accept that loss rationally?
Especially since Lewin was still a child.
He would probably still be in an unstable state then, and instead of processing his grief, he might choose a far easier escape.
I wanted Lewin to grow strong. For him to survive what was coming.
“And by then, he’ll be speaking clearly too.”
Truthfully, this was a trap for myself. If I wanted to save Lewin and stop Dorian’s descent into darkness, I needed at least four years.
But if Dorian refused to share the suspects with me, how could I possibly learn who was trying to kill Lewin?
The best I could do was help Lewin grow enough to speak, and at least be able to find his way home if he were kidnapped and abandoned again.
Although… if he were kidnapped again, the chances of survival…
A shiver ran through me. Dorian, twirling the fountain pen in his right hand, watched me quietly and spoke.
“You’re correct.”
“Right? Then let’s set the contract duration to a maximum of two yea—”
My voice lifted slightly on its own. But before I even finished speaking, Dorian cut me off, looking increasingly displeased.
“But you must also understand that changing a primary caregiver is not good for a child.”
He was formidable. He continued.
“A child who has already lost his mother, then immediately loses a nanny who resembles her, will suffer even more emotional damage. Isn’t that so, Miss Rohella?”
He really was good with words. I conceded easily.
“That’s true…”
My throat felt suddenly dry, and I glared at the spotless desk.
Why is there no tea in this room?!
Sure, we told the servants not to let anyone in since this was an important matter, but I desperately wanted to gulp down something.
Dorian’s face reflected faintly on the polished desk surface.
The upside-down, hazy, wood-colored Dorian smiled.
“Let’s leave the contract duration unspecified, and end it when both parties agree.”
I clicked my tongue inwardly.
A mastermind. A complete mastermind.
He would not yield even an inch in matters related to his little brother. And of course, I loved Lewin too… I came here because I loved him…
In the end, I accepted the open-ended contract without complaint. But Dorian wasn’t finished.
“Also, during the contract period, your identity will be made public. Your title will not be nanny or tutor.”
What?
For a moment, I couldn’t believe what I heard. Wouldn’t it be bad for my identity to be revealed?
Aside from Scarlett’s suspicious plot and the imperial schemes, there must be plenty of factions in society eyeing the ducal household while keeping their claws hidden.
If I were revealed, they would have to reveal Lewin’s mutism as well… It would gradually expose more of the ducal family’s secrets.
Seeing the confusion on my face, the duke opened a drawer and took out an envelope.
“There is one marquisate on my maternal side. They oversee the southern coastline. The current lord is my grandfather’s cousin, and because he cherishes his frail wife, he has no children.”
He flipped the envelope over. A blue wax seal stamped with the image of a ship’s wheel came into view.
“He had his eye on Lewin as his heir.”
“But isn’t Lewin already the little duke?”
“Yes. And yet, strangely, you have never asked me about that.”
At those words, Dorian looked at me intently. A careful yet piercing gaze, as if he were trying to read my thoughts.
It was true—an unmarried young duke selecting his little brother as heir, without fiancée or wife, was unusual.
But having seen how dearly he cherished his brother, I assumed it was simply a measure to protect him…
Their parents died suddenly, so the title succession must have been abrupt. Him not having a fiancée made sense.
As for not having a wife—this was a Korean-written romance-fantasy world, so twenty was still young for marriage. Perfectly reasonable.
I cleared my throat and said,
“I just assumed it was to protect your brother. And I don’t usually pry into sensitive matters.”
At that, Dorian’s sharp gaze softened into a faint smile. Then he continued.
“This man still does not know about Lewin’s mutism. Because of the distance to his territory, I couldn’t tell him—I feared the information might leak.”
I nodded.
If I hadn’t been kidnapped myself, I might have thought he was overly sensitive. But now, I understood why he was so cautious.
“So, why are you telling me about him?”
