Chapter 7
The sound of footsteps stopped right in front of me.
As I turned my head, I was a little surprised to find the child standing much closer than I expected.
The boy facing me had emerald green eyes. He looked about seven or eight years old. His skin was soft and fresh like it still had the scent of baby powder, and his chestnut-brown hair shimmered under the sunlight.
That angelic-looking child looked at me and gave a bright smile. Then, he opened his tiny mouth and shouted,
“Mom!”
…Mom?
I looked around, confused. But there was no one else nearby. Just me.
When I looked back at him, the little boy tapped his own head a few times as if he’d made a mistake.
Then, staring right at me, he said,
“You’re really pretty!”
Oh my, what a little charmer. He sure knows how to compliment someone.
I barely managed to keep the corners of my lips from curling up and asked in a kind voice,
“Where are your parents? Did you get lost?”
“Nope! I came to find my mom!”
That basically means he got lost… Seems like he still doesn’t know how to use words properly.
Still, what kind of family does this angelic child belong to? If he’s this pretty and adorable, I bet his parents are very good-looking too.
His clothes were clean and fancy. Thanks to my empress training, I had memorized the family trees of most noble houses, but I couldn’t think of any family with a child like this that I wouldn’t recognize.
I dusted off my dress and stood up, reaching out a hand.
“I hope you find your mom soon. Want to look for her with me?”
“Yes!”
His soft little hand immediately grabbed mine.
Holding his hand, I started walking in the direction he came from. If we just retraced his steps, we’d probably find his guardian quickly.
Just as I thought, a man dressed like a butler soon appeared. He must be a servant from the Glentino ducal house. With a worried expression, he looked around anxiously, but the moment he saw us, his face filled with relief.
“Oh dear, young master…! How did you end up all the way out here…?!”
Then he ran over to us.
Looks like this butler had been the one in charge of the boy.
The child seemed to recognize the butler too. I crouched down to his level again and looked him in the eyes.
“He’ll help you find your mother.”
“Really?”
He asked gloomily. Come on, Mr. Butler, earn some trust from the kid!
While I covered the awkward moment with a vague smile, the butler finally reached us.
“Ah, Lady Bartoli. Thank you for taking care of this young—uh, this person…”
“This person?”
What’s with that vague title?
I tilted my head, puzzled, when the child looked up at the butler and then motioned for me to come closer. I leaned down, and the adorable little boy whispered into my ear.
“You look good with my dad, you know.”
…What!?
He can’t mean my dad, so does he mean his dad?! Is this kid trying to match me with a married man?
I remember once when I was little, a lizard fell on my head and wouldn’t come off—it clung to my hair like an accessory. I freaked out and shook around like crazy, and Leonie laughed like it was the funniest thing ever. Then she told me:
“You two look great together, Sophia!”
Since then, the phrase “you look good together” never made me angry… until now!
I couldn’t hide the look of shock on my face. The boy, seeing my expression, thought for a moment before whispering again.
“Actually, now that I think about it, I think you’re too good for him.”
“Of course I am!”
Oops… maybe I responded too strongly, even if it was flattering.
I started to feel bad for being so blunt, but the little boy didn’t seem hurt at all. With his big, round eyes, he carefully explained,
“My dad looks like me, so he’s really handsome. He’d look great in the house, too.”
“Oh really?”
At this point, I was too amused to be annoyed. I couldn’t help but smile.
“That’s not all, miss.”
“What else is there?”
“If you marry my dad, he’ll probably listen to everything you say.”
The butler, who had been standing by and listening to this weird conversation, hesitated before reaching out his hand toward the child.
While I tried to hold back my laughter to the point of tears, the boy gave my dress a tug and whispered one last time.
“My name is Arne. See you again, mom—uh, miss.”
—
The excitement of meeting such an angelic child faded quickly.
That was because I noticed my father, the Marquis Bartoli, among the mourners.
‘He told me not to be lazy and go early, but he hasn’t even gone in yet?’
So I hid myself in a corner of the rose garden, wasting time until he left.
In public, Father always acted like a kind and respectable nobleman. But now and then, his gaze would betray his disgust toward me. I was sure that those with sharp eyes had picked up on that, and they were probably gossiping already.
‘Right. Who gets all giggly at her fiancé’s funeral?’
Especially when it was a fiancé who died because of me.
I felt guilty toward Arnold. We hadn’t been close, but we weren’t so estranged that I should be smiling during his funeral.
Once I was sure Father had gone, I stepped out from the rose garden and looked around. It was finally time to pay my respects and head home.
I had to find either the duchess or the heir to the household.
Before I regressed, the heir was the married third son. He received the title not long afterward.
I looked around for a while, but couldn’t find any woman who looked like the duchess. So I focused on finding the next head instead. He’d probably be where the crowd was thickest.
It wasn’t hard to find. I caught a glimpse of a white marble altar piled with all sorts of flowers between the crowd.
I walked toward it.
What did the third son look like again? I tried to remember, but nothing came to mind. I was sure I had seen him after he became Duke Glentino, but he must not have left a strong impression.
Even if I didn’t recognize his face, I could probably figure it out by context. The guy doing the most greeting was likely the heir.
Thinking casually, I made my way closer.
Pushing through people dressed in various black outfits, I finally came face-to-face with someone—
“The Duke’s son?”
Owen ta Glentino. Why was he here?
I could never mistake that man’s face—not even in another life.
I stared blankly up at him. He looked a bit surprised to see me, too.
“Lady Bartoli.”
Why is he here? Why is it him instead of the third son?
Something felt off. But maybe I was the only one who found this strange. After all, it made perfect sense for the eldest son of the Glentino family to inherit the title.
Back at the first funeral, people had whispered, “Why is the third son the heir instead of the eldest?”
‘It’s changed again.’
But I didn’t show it. I quietly placed my flower down. Owen and I were supposed to be strangers. Just my late fiancé’s older brother.
I dipped my head, hiding my face behind the black veil attached to my hat, and walked away briskly.
Honestly, I didn’t have the courage to face him properly.
I had no right to stand in front of a man who had lost his brother because of me.
—
I didn’t look back and quickly crossed the garden. Soon, I saw the Bartoli family’s carriage.
The coachman must’ve seen me because he got off and opened the door.
Inside the carriage, I saw Bessie. As I had told her, she had bandages ready to treat my foot.
Just as the coachman was helping me step into the carriage—
“Lady Bartoli.”
“?!”
I turned my head toward the voice and was shocked to see the man who had been greeting mourners earlier now standing between me and the carriage, blocking my path with his arm.
Both I, Bessie, and the coachman widened our eyes in surprise.
“W-Why are you here…?”
I stammered, and the man looked inside the carriage. When he spotted Bessie holding the bandages, she flinched like she’d been stung.
“Excuse me.”
“Wha— Ah!”
Like a sleek tiger, the man lifted me up again just like he had two days ago and gently placed me inside the carriage. Then, he rummaged through his pocket and pulled something out—a small container with a strong herbal smell.
I sniffed the scent and asked,
“What is this?”
“An ointment. Apply it generously.”
Ointment? Well, that’s actually great. Just what I need—no, wait! Saying that in front of Bessie will make her think we were together!
I quickly glanced at Bessie. Just as I feared, she looked extremely shocked—and curious.
The man didn’t care how I reacted. He just continued speaking.
“I’m busy today. Please make time tomorrow.”
“Pardon?”
He looked a little rushed.
Running his large hand through his dark blond hair, he added,
“Don’t overthink it. Just rest at home with your feet up, and come back tomorrow.”
Who tells a woman who just lost her fiancé to “put her feet up and rest”?
