PHATFO 93

~Chapter 93~

It felt like my head was finally clear.

‘That’s right. The Emperor has contracts with all the lords… If she chooses me, I could become the next Count.’

The Emperor was a man who always looked at the bigger picture, choosing only what benefitted the Empire.

If I could just prove why I was more fit than my uncle to inherit the title, maybe I had a real chance.

‘Though… I shouldn’t ignore the possibility that His Majesty might grant me a completely different title.’

“But in this case, my lady, we must first learn exactly who your mother was. That way, we can argue that you inherited her talents.”

In other words, he was asking me to share what I knew.

“She passed away when I was very young… so I don’t remember much.”

“Do not worry. No one else will know more than you do.”

That made sense.

“My mother… she was a foreigner. I can’t clearly remember her face, but she had the same silver hair as me… I think she was good at singing! And…”

As I spoke, more and more memories surfaced. I let them spill out, then paused.

“Her name was Sarah.”

Sarah Evelyn.

The name I had buried deep inside to swallow my longing rose back up, carried by the waves of memory.

Tap! Tap! Thud—!

He pressed his staff to the ground, pushed his legs forward until his body reached it, then tapped again to move further.

The old magician had long since lost all feeling in his legs, and could no longer walk. Using only the strength of his arms, he dragged himself step by step.

But there was a limit.

His weak hand slipped, the staff dropped, and his body tilted.

“Father!”

The man watching with worried eyes rushed forward and caught him before he fell.

“I’m fine, Til.”

“Fine? How can you say that when your arms are trembling like this?”

He pointed toward a nearby stump.

“Please, even for a moment, sit and rest. At this rate you’ll collapse.”

“How could I rest with a clear conscience?”

The old man stood again—this time not with strength, but with magic.

“I am a sinner.”

“…Father.”

“How great my sin must be… Living with fine clothes and fragrant wine, while my daughter died alone in a foreign land.”

“But you didn’t know anything at the time!”

“Til, ignorance does not absolve guilt. If someone kills without knowing murder is wrong, does that mean it is no longer a crime?”

“…Still—”

“And moving eases my heart. If I rest, useless thoughts only come to me.”

The old man gave a bitter smile.

Even now, he saw visions.

Visions of Sarah, leaving with tears in her eyes.

Sarah had been the daughter he cherished most. Yet, like all children, she had made choices against her father’s will.

She had brought home a foreign man and declared she would marry him.

Of course, he opposed it. The man’s status and name were unclear—and he wasn’t even a magician.

For generations, their family had produced powerful magicians, and he himself was one. He was proud of this bloodline, and he could not accept a son-in-law with not even a speck of magic.

[“If it isn’t that man, you’ll die? How dare you say such words in front of your father!”]
[“Even against my orders, you held a secret wedding with him? From today, you are no longer my daughter. Unless you cast him aside, you will never see me again. What are you waiting for? Leave, now!”]

He thought that since she had grown up pampered, she would suffer outside and eventually return.

But he had been wrong.

Later he heard she had left the kingdom, settled in another land, and even given birth to a daughter.

He was deeply disappointed—and told others never to speak of her again.

Sometimes he thought of her, but forced himself to endure.

He told himself: surely she was living well.

He learned she had died only two months ago.

The shock drove him wandering through his palace until he entered her old room.

Everything had been kept exactly as it was when she left. As he looked around, filled with regret, he found a letter tucked in her notebook.

By the time Father reads this letter, I will no longer be of this world.

It was a letter Sarah had written before her marriage.

A chill crawled down his spine, and he wept.

Sarah had not been a magician. But she had been able to prophesy—though so rarely he had forgotten.

‘I should have believed her. I should have asked why she chose that man, whether there was another reason… I should have spoken with her properly!’

But by then, Sarah was long gone.

All that remained was the letter.

Though you hate me, please pity me enough to grant my last request.

Please… save my daughter, your granddaughter.

He finally understood.

The only way to atone to his daughter was to find her child as quickly as possible. Not even a moment could be wasted.

“Just standing a little while eases the weariness.”

The old man lifted a compass—an artifact designed to find the bloodline of Orthenka. The needle spun, then pointed in one direction.

“This way, then. Come. The road is long.”

“…Yes, Father.”

Til could no longer stop his father, and trudged along behind him.

One reason Count Rohiltern brought up Bella’s custody was simply to scare her.

In his memory, Bella had always been timid, always shrinking back and watching either him or Charlotte’s mood.

‘But at the Founding Festival, she was completely different.’

The Count believed Bella’s change came only because she now had the Grand Duke backing her.

A strong supporter could make anyone act proud, after all. And Bella surely knew it too.

So if he suddenly told her to return to House Rohiltern? Of course, she would hate it.

That was exactly what the Count intended. By waving around his parental rights, he meant to pressure Bella into obedience—reminding her that he could drag her back to the estate whenever he pleased.

“What? The adoption is invalid?”

If the Rohiltern couple claimed custody rights, Bella responded by attacking the adoption papers themselves, declaring them illegal.

It was a direct counter.

“You should be grateful we didn’t abandon you and took you in, yet you dare—what!?”

The Count raged, then suddenly froze.

‘That foolish girl couldn’t possibly come up with such a scheme. It must be the Grand Duke’s doing.’

Afraid Bella might one day claim inheritance rights, the Count had deliberately withheld proper education from her.

He had expected handling her to be easy. But now, with Bella hiding securely beneath the Grand Duke’s protection, he found himself frustrated.

Especially since the Marquis had insisted this matter was purely a Rohiltern family issue, and that the Grand Duke would never publicly support Bella.

‘But if she stays inside the Grand Duke’s house and refuses to come out, I can’t do anything…!’

Visiting the Grand Duke’s residence was out of the question.

He still couldn’t forget the cold gaze of the man who had once forced him to kneel.

The Count had no desire to risk facing Armians again, even by mistake.

‘But is there a way to meet Bella secretly, without the Grand Duke knowing?’

Reading his thoughts, his wife spoke.

“I have a good idea.”

“You?”

The Count raised his brow, skeptical.

Though irritated, Abigail smiled.

“Yes. I heard she’s attending a tea party. I thought I might go as well.”

“A tea party? You mean those gatherings where women chatter and gossip?”

The Count looked unimpressed.

“Exactly. You can’t attend, and neither can the Grand Duke, can he?”

The Count’s expression shifted as realization struck.

“At the tea party, Bella will be without her shield.”

“Exactly.”

“That means…!”

“It’ll be easier to sway her however we want.”

“Yes, of course! Without the Grand Duke, that girl is nothing.”

The Count slapped his knee.

“So, have you prepared a plan?”

“Conveniently, Marquis Blancia introduced me to some noble ladies who share the same view. With them, I’ll be able to steer the mood of the tea party.”

Regardless of her husband’s doubts, Abigail herself was eager to humiliate Bella.

Just imagining that girl—around the same age as her own daughter—strutting about as the Grand Duchess made her blood boil.

“Honestly, what unmarried woman lives under the same roof as a man not of her family? Until the wedding, it’s only proper she stay in her guardian’s house. If many voices repeat this common sense together, surely she’ll have to recognize it herself.”

Bella might have been lucky to gain the Grand Duke’s protection. But no matter how high she soared, at her core she was still nothing more than Charlotte’s old shadow. Once she realized that, Bella would finally bow her stiff neck and know her place.