CHAPTER 147…………………………………
It seemed that a conversation no one else should hear was about to begin.
Minerva pushed Ribera into the waiting room.
The knights accompanying her reached out in surprise, but Minerva blocked them.
“Let’s have a private conversation for a moment. I’ll keep watch, so you all wait here.”
“But Your Highness—”
“If something goes wrong, I’ll take responsibility.”
“I’ll take responsibility too,” Lloyd quickly added.
Since both the Princess and the Grand Duke were guaranteeing it, the knights exchanged confused glances and turned away.
It meant they were to go in.
The three entered the waiting room, keeping as far from the door as possible.
Since being pulled in by the two adults, Ribera hadn’t been able to lift her head even once.
But a child’s line of sight is far lower than an adult’s, so even bowing her head didn’t completely avoid it.
Ribera swallowed back tears as she met those sky-blue eyes staring straight at her.
They were eyes that resembled someone, yet didn’t at all.
She had grown completely unlike that violent person.
If you saw her on the street, you probably wouldn’t recognize her.
Ribera knelt down to meet Aila at eye level.
She lowered her head and repeatedly apologized.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything. I’m sorry I couldn’t love you, that I left you there alone. I’ve always been weighed down by the fact that I couldn’t even say I was sorry…”
Her voice trembled with sobs.
There was no greater disgrace than this.
To abandon a child, and then only when the trial came to break down in tears and apologize—
Even a saint would be flabbergasted by such behavior.
As expected, Aila said nothing.
She didn’t seek forgiveness.
Ribera’s apology was meant only to erase all traces of herself from Aila—but it was a needless gesture.
Staying any longer would only make Aila uncomfortable.
Ribera tried to rise.
But Aila grabbed her sleeve.
Aila, looking surprised, bowed her head just like Ribera had earlier.
Ribera couldn’t tell what expression she was making, and her anxiety only grew—until Aila finally spoke.
“I can’t say I’m completely fine. It was… hard for me there.”
Ribera understood.
She hadn’t expected her to say she was completely fine.
Even if Aila poured out words of resentment in the future, Ribera was ready to accept them.
That was her karma.
But when Aila lifted her head, her face wasn’t one of anger or resentment.
She was smiling.
“But I’m happy now. I have my family.”
Aila held Ribera’s hand tightly with that smiling face.
“Thank you for apologizing, ma’am.”
The hand of her daughter, held for the first time, was incredibly soft and warm.
It seemed as if no matter what hardships came, as long as this hand held hers, she could endure them.
But Aila was no longer Ribera’s daughter.
She hadn’t been for a long time.
Ribera pressed her trembling lips together and calmed herself.
It took a long moment before she spoke.
“Your Highness, Aila.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Aila answered as if she had been waiting for her.
Encouraged by the gentle gaze that said it was okay to speak, Ribera spoke words she had hesitated to voice, worried they might hurt the child.
“I intend to tell people from now on that my daughter is dead.”
“I understand.”
“I will become someone unrelated to Your Highness. No matter who tries to interfere. So…”
She couldn’t bring herself to finish the last words, thinking they would be shameless to the extreme.
But the small hand in Ribera’s, clasping hers firmly, gave her strength.
She felt ridiculous receiving comfort from a child, one she had once abandoned.
Perhaps she had just turned away the greatest blessing of her life herself.
Or, had she raised the child, would she have grown up this way anyway?
Thinking that made Ribera smile without realizing it.
She held Aila’s hand with both of hers, tightly.
Her first child, and last.
A child she had never truly loved.
To the child who had found her real family and grown brilliantly, Ribera spoke her farewell.
“Your Highness. The foolish will now face their punishment. So do not let the wounds they left trouble you for your entire life. I hope you can be happy for your whole life.”
After this, the two could no longer meet, even if they wanted to.
At first, Aila had resented Ribera.
A mother is a child’s first bond.
She had been rejected by the person she first connected with, and when they met again, she hadn’t even received a single apology.
She had cried and been hurt deeply. But now, seeing someone genuinely apologize and willingly go to face their punishment, she could no longer hate them.
Aila willingly forgave Ribera and accepted her first bond’s farewell.
“Thank you for your blessing. Ma’am, after you’ve received all your punishment, please make sure to be happy as well.”
Hearing that, Ribera bowed her head once again.
Minerva and Lloyd escorted Ribera back to the knights.
They watched her being led away for a long while.
Her figure didn’t look entirely free of burden, yet somehow she seemed satisfied in that moment.
Once Ribera disappeared from view completely, Lloyd and Minerva exchanged looks.
There was another message they needed to deliver to the children, but now didn’t feel like the right time.
“Shall we head home first?”
“Yes, let’s do that.”
They would share delicious food and joyful news with the children, and Lloyd would recount the court stories over drinks.
Minerva gathered the children from the waiting room and they boarded the carriage.
It was truly fortunate that the four of them could go home together.
“Now, cheers!”
That evening, a small party was held at the Princess’s palace.
To celebrate Lloyd’s victory, Minerva and Lloyd brought fine wine, and the children brought juice full of fruit. They sat around a small table and clinked their glasses.
“Congratulations, Dad!”
“Dad, congratulations!”
“Congratulations, Lloyd!”
Receiving congratulations all at once, it felt less like a victory celebration and more like a birthday party.
Lloyd awkwardly said he had received all the congratulations he’d ever get in his life, but then showed the brightest smile anyone had ever seen from him.
As the party atmosphere warmed, Minerva set down her glass to get everyone’s attention.
“And there’s something important we want to say.”
The children perked up.
Seeing Minerva’s expression, they felt relieved that it wasn’t bad news.
Before speaking fully, Minerva asked:
“Aila, Aslan. Are you satisfied with your life right now?”
“…Satisfied?”
The sudden, out-of-the-blue question made both children tilt their heads.
Not fully understanding the intent, Aslan answered first.
“I’m satisfied.”
“Me too. I’m happy.”
Lloyd and Minerva exchanged glances, nodded in unison, and stood up.
Each positioned themselves in front of the children—Minerva in front of Aila, Lloyd in front of Aslan—which was the only unusual thing.
They pulled out boxes hidden under the table and handed them to the children.
The children accepted them silently, still confused.
“What’s this?”
“Open it.”
Though the children sensed something unusual about their parents’ expressions, they opened the gifts.
Inside were some documents, a letter, and an embroidered handkerchief.
Aslan didn’t understand what it meant, staring at Lloyd with a “what is this?” expression.
But Aila, on the other hand, gasped and covered her mouth with trembling hands.
“M-Mom… this!”
Minerva felt both pride and relief, smiling.
“Aila recognizes it. And Aslan?”
“…I don’t know?”
Aslan puffed his cheeks in dissatisfaction.
The letter was nice, but what were these scraps of paper and cloth supposed to mean?
