CHAPTER 72……………………
“You woke up later than usual.”
A noble voice greeted him. It was strange—her face was so expressionless it could be called cold, yet somehow the words didn’t feel that way.
Irene Boderroa–Rinaen. The late king’s queen, mother of Noah—no, Ian—and also Tyraine’s sister. Her face was beautiful, but unlike Tyraine’s bold, sharp features, she had a different kind of refinement. Still, their eyes bore a faint resemblance.
No, more than that—why does this feel like I’ve run into the final boss at the very start?
“Yes, did you sleep well?”
Cordelia answered cautiously, hesitated for a moment, then sat across from the woman. A bell was rung to summon the butler, and soon Cordelia’s side of the table was filled with dishes.
Trying to tear her bread neatly the way Noah did, Cordelia stole glances at her companion. Irene sat with her back perfectly straight, cutting meat with precise grace and bringing it to her lips without a single wasted motion.
Her long lashes trembled now and then. Cordelia had thought it before, but now she understood why people compared her to a lily.
Her face, too, the resemblance grew the longer one looked. Was that where Noah had learned such refined table manners?
His build seemed more like the late king’s, though.
“Do you not like the food?”
“Huh? No, it’s delicious.”
Cordelia quickly moved her utensils again and began eating. Irene, who had been watching her quietly shovel stew into her mouth, set her own cutlery down.
“You’ve been leaving the estate quite often lately.”
“There’s a lot of work to do.”
Cordelia’s head spun at her own reflexive answer. Sketches piled high on the desk, commissions from elsewhere—images flashed through her mind.
Wait, she really has been busy? I thought maybe she was avoiding me… feels almost guilty now for doubting her. Well, last time she did give a clear explanation.
“Don’t overwork yourself. It’s good to work, but you must take care of yourself first.”
“I’ve been resting plenty along the way, so please don’t worry.”
Cordelia thought it was a safe answer, but Irene’s face darkened. Did she say something wrong? While Cordelia forced herself to keep eating, Irene spoke gently.
“Truly, nothing’s wrong?”
“What could possibly be wrong with me?”
Cordelia’s heart skipped, but she managed to feign composure. Noah had insisted his mother mustn’t know, so she had to play along.
But Irene narrowed her eyes.
“For someone with ‘nothing wrong,’ your face looks quite worn.”
Mothers seemed to develop a special intuition, at least when it came to their children. Cordelia’s silence stretched as she debated how to answer, and Irene sighed.
“It started after you were gone for nearly a month, didn’t it? That’s when you changed.”
“Me?”
“You looked troubled. Is it something you can’t confide in me?”
‘Mother worries too much about me. Sometimes it’s excessive. If she knew the truth, I think she’d be terribly shocked. Especially since she hates having her personal space invaded…’
When Noah had warned her about Irene, he’d trailed off, but Cordelia could fill in the rest easily enough. She wasn’t without knowledge of the former queen.
A woman who hid a serpent’s nature behind a serene smile. Her methods of dealing with rivals were slow but meticulous, suffocating people step by step.
Cordelia had encountered her back in her queenly days. That smile then had seemed impenetrable, unsettling. Now, with no expression at all, she somehow appeared much more approachable.
Was it because they were talking about her son? Or was this Irene’s true face?
“I know you worry about me.”
Holding her tangled feelings, Cordelia spoke softly.
“But I’m fine. There’s no need for such concern. I know how to take care of myself.”
How could she phrase this properly? Was it even right to insert herself into his life this way?
You, who are always ready to let go of my hand—do I have the right to leave behind these kinds of footprints?
So many thoughts swirled, but she pressed on.
“I’m not a child who needs protection anymore. If anything, I could even protect you.”
Especially if one remembered the strength with which she had split that apple in half.
“I’m doing well outside. I have companions, and there are people who call the things I create beautiful.”
She knew she was overstepping, but couldn’t stop the words. But it was true—she’d worked on the Grand Cathedral’s mural, been invited by the Marquis’ household, and paid handsomely for commissions.
Society might scorn her profession, but that didn’t mean her talent or effort deserved to be belittled. Everything Noah created bloomed into beauty—his paintings, his tender words, all of it.
“My work may not satisfy you, but I’m proud of it. So… if possible, I want you to be proud of me too. Could you?”
Words Noah himself could never have said slipped out, and Cordelia watched Irene carefully. At the same time, guilt pricked her—was it right for her, who still couldn’t be honest with her own family, to speak this way?
Irene didn’t reply. She only watched Cordelia quietly. The resemblance to Noah made it all the more nerve-racking.
After a moment, she spoke at last.
“You don’t need to protect me. I told you before—if something happens to me, but it would bring you harm to intervene, then you must turn away.”
Cordelia almost doubted her ears. What was that supposed to mean, all of a sudden?
“Do as you will. But always be cautious, and make survival your top priority. Don’t stand out too much. Even now, after so many years, there are still those searching for any flaw to use against you.”
“Flaw?”
Irene pressed her lips shut. Cordelia saw her pale hand on the table trembling, and instinctively understood.
This must be about treason.
Since the current king took the throne, there had been multiple rebellions—some led by exiled royals, others by dukes marching on the capital with their armies.
The king had executed most ringleaders, stripping titles and wealth from their direct kin. The Boderroa line had suffered less than others, spared except for the marquisate.
Noah—Ian—had been second only to the king himself in legitimacy. Even after his confinement, suspicion must have dogged his every step.
“Yes, I understand. But please don’t worry too much. I’ve managed just fine until now.”
Cordelia answered firmly, but couldn’t shake the heaviness in her chest. She added one more thing.
“I’ll be careful so nothing puts you in danger. So please… don’t say things like I’m unnecessary or a burden. Those words are too sad.”
She was relieved Noah hadn’t heard this himself. He would’ve been crushed. That boy who couldn’t refuse worrying even over a stranger—how would he feel to hear such words from his own mother?
“It’s only a precaution. Ian, I… I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you.”
Hearing Irene’s almost pleading tone, Cordelia rubbed her forehead inwardly.
This is getting worse. I feel like I’m prying into family issues far more serious than I ever expected.
Stop, you’re meddling too much. Leave it here.
What are you saying? You’re just going to let nonsense like that slide?
Her reason and emotions clashed, but in the end Cordelia opened her mouth.
“You should live well even without me. What are you saying otherwise?”
“What?”
Irene blinked in surprise, and Cordelia pressed on, point by point.
“We may be family, but you have your life and I have mine. Why do you speak as though you must sacrifice yourself for me?”
People lived in connection with others, yes, but that didn’t mean taking responsibility for someone else’s whole life. Parents could treat small children that way, but Noah was long an adult.
Honestly, he was better at handling his own duties than she was. Where was all this overprotection coming from—Tyraine, Irene, everyone treating him like a child by the water’s edge?
No wonder he was so cowed. With a touch of cynicism, Cordelia kept her voice calm.
“As I said, I can take responsibility for my own life now. So instead of worrying only about me, you should focus more on your own life. Or… is it that you don’t trust me?”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“But that’s how it sounds to me.”
Seeing Irene at a loss for words, Cordelia pressed a little harder.
“I’m happy now.”
At least when Noah was painting, he looked truly happy. Even painting her portrait, he had gazed at it with eyes brimming with love, as if he couldn’t hold back his joy.
“So there’s really nothing you need to worry about.”
Cordelia didn’t love saying she was merely satisfied with the present, but Noah needed to let others carry some of the weight. Honestly, what were these older people doing, treating a grown man like a child?
Without realizing she herself was doing much the same, Cordelia met Irene’s gaze. She barely resisted the urge to cross her arms.
“All right.”
The reply was simple, almost flat. But seeing Irene’s expression, Cordelia’s lips curved into a soft smile.
