Episode 13
The carriage came to a stop in front of Duke Crichton’s mansion.
Only after Mother stepped down first was I able to get off the carriage.
Since I was still a nine-year-old child with short legs, I had no choice but to hop down awkwardly.
“Welcome back, young ladies.”
As we stepped down and entered the front hall, the waiting servants and maids greeted us.
I still wasn’t used to being welcomed by so many people like this.
Feeling a bit embarrassed, I hesitated as I stepped inside.
Seeing me like that, Mother let out a small, stifled laugh.
I shot her a slightly annoyed look, narrowing my eyes, but she couldn’t stop smiling.
“Cornelia, Mirabel. Did you have a good trip?”
Soon, Duke Crichton came down the stairs. Even to my eyes, his face was filled with worry.
“Father, honestly… if you come down like that, you might fall.”
“Would that matter? So, you returned safely? His Majesty the Emperor didn’t hold too much resentment toward you, did he?”
The duke asked cautiously.
Mother paused for a moment, then shook her head.
“No. We had a proper conversation and spoke about everything that’s been weighing on us. His Majesty understands me now.”
“That’s a relief. I was worried that I should have gone with you instead of sending you alone.”
“It’s okay. I understand your concern. Everything was resolved well, so you don’t need to worry.”
Mother reassured him.
“But I’m a bit tired, so I’d like to go rest for now. You said Uncle would be coming this evening, so I think I should rest a little.”
“Of course, go and rest. I shouldn’t have kept you.”
After that, Mother tried to head upstairs with me to the bedroom, but I had no intention of following her just yet.
“Mother, I want to speak with the Duke—”
Mother’s expression turned slightly wistful at how I addressed him. Now that I understood why, I hesitated briefly before correcting myself.
“I want to talk with Grandfather. So you go ahead first, Mother.”
At the word “Grandfather,” Duke Crichton’s face brightened.
It seemed he had wanted me to call him that.
Although I still felt some distance emotionally and it would take time to truly see him as my grandfather, saying it out loud wasn’t difficult.
And since both Mother and the duke wanted it, I decided it was better this way.
“Alright, my dear. I’m very curious what you want to talk about. Cornelia, I’ll speak with Mirabel and send her up afterward, so please go rest first.”
“Okay. Then I’ll go ahead, Bell.”
“Mm!”
After Mother went upstairs, Duke Crichton looked down at me with a pleased expression, though he didn’t immediately suggest anything.
I tilted my head, puzzled.
“Can we talk here?”
“Hm? Ah—no. Come this way.”
Flustered in a way that didn’t quite suit him, he began to guide me. He also remembered to ask a maid if there was any milk and snacks left for me.
I wasn’t particularly craving anything after having eaten plenty at the imperial palace, but I didn’t refuse since I might get thirsty while talking.
He led me to a familiar drawing room.
Unfortunately, it was the very room where I had met my death.
I glanced around the room with a strange feeling.
A few paintings had changed, and some sculptures were different, but otherwise it looked much the same.
“Sit here.”
Even the seat he offered was the same as before.
There were only so many places to sit in a drawing room, so it was natural—but it made my heart pound as if I had returned to that moment.
Click—
At the sound of the door opening, I flinched and turned.
It was the maid bringing in milk and cookies.
Realizing I had been more tense than necessary, I took a deep breath to calm myself.
Soon, the milk and cookies were placed in front of me.
The duke looked at me gently and spoke carefully.
“My dear, what did you want to tell me?”
Before answering, I looked around.
We weren’t alone—two of his aides, four male servants, and two maids stood at a distance.
“Grandfather, could I speak with you alone?”
“Alone?”
“Yes. Without anyone else.”
“Well… that’s not impossible. Just a moment.”
With a slightly bewildered expression, he dismissed everyone from the room.
Only after the last maid closed the door behind her did I finally let out a relieved sigh.
“My dear, what is it?”
He looked at me, unable to understand why I wanted to speak in private.
That was only natural.
If I were truly just a normal nine-year-old, I wouldn’t have insisted on being alone with someone I still felt awkward around.
But there was something I needed to tell him.
“Grandfather, do you remember when I mentioned Mother’s letters before?”
“Letters? Ah, yes. You said Cornelia sent me letters asking for forgiveness. I remember.”
He nodded as the memory came back.
“Someone in this mansion intercepted them. That’s why they never reached you.”
He blinked for a moment—then laughed lightly.
“My dear, is that what this is about? Letters sent through messengers often go missing. And since Cornelia sent them through mercenaries or merchants, it’s likely they never got past the guards.”
It seemed he had tried to find a reasonable explanation.
He simply assumed the letters were lost in transit.
Even though, in truth, Daniel Crichton had intercepted them.
“If there had only been a few, that might be likely. But that’s not the case. Mother sent letters at least twice a week. Sometimes through mercenaries, sometimes through merchant groups. That’s over twenty letters a year. It’s impossible that every single one went missing, isn’t it?”
It made no logical sense.
Mother had even promised payment—one silver coin for delivering the letter, and five more if they brought back a reply.
Yet no one ever returned with one.
Back then, I had resented the duke while comforting my grieving mother.
But after learning the truth, I came to hate Daniel Crichton with everything I had.
Because of him, Mother couldn’t receive treatment for an illness that could have been cured in three months.
I had to watch her die helplessly.
And that wasn’t all.
I had dug the ground myself… over and over… to bury her body in the cold earth.
More painful than my nails tearing from digging with bare hands was the agony of laying her to rest in that freezing soil.
Those memories and emotions were still painfully vivid.
And I had learned too late that Daniel Crichton was the cause of it all—leading to my own death as well.
But now that I had returned to the past, I couldn’t let it happen again.
“That is… certainly strange. If they were sent that regularly, at least one should have been reported to me…”
The duke murmured, troubled.
He hadn’t known how often the letters were sent, so he had assumed it was normal for some to go missing.
“There’s someone in this mansion who intercepted them.”
“But Mirabel, my dear… why would anyone keep such letters from me? There’s no reason. And if someone really did—who could it be?”
I opened my mouth… then closed it again.
He clearly thought my claim was far-fetched.
And it made sense—he had no reason to suspect anything.
Even more than ten years later, he hadn’t suspected Daniel Crichton.
I could still vividly remember his shock upon seeing Daniel take control of the estate.
If I said his name now, would he believe me?
Between his trust in me—his newly acknowledged granddaughter—and his lifelong trust in his brother Daniel, which would weigh more?
A brief conflict passed through my mind.
“Someone who doesn’t want you and Mother to reconcile. Is there anyone like that around you?”
In the end, I spoke vaguely.
“Well… I can’t think of anyone bold enough to intercept letters coming into this mansion.”
“……”
I briefly considered telling him everything—that I had lived through it all in the future—but dismissed the thought.
Even I couldn’t fully believe my own situation.
Expecting someone else to accept it unquestioningly would be foolish—even if they were family.
At best, they’d think I was lying. At worst, they’d think I was insane.
After a pause, I gathered my thoughts and spoke again.
“Alright. But please look into the letters. This is my request—as your granddaughter.”
Hoping he wouldn’t take my words lightly, I picked up the glass of milk in front of me and drank it in one go, then set the empty cup down.
“I’ll be going now.”
“Wait a moment, my dear.”
As I stood up, he stopped me.
He took out a handkerchief and gently wiped the corner of my mouth.
After checking that I was clean, he smiled with satisfaction.
“You may go now.”
I bowed politely, then turned and left the drawing room.
Although I had failed to reveal the identity of the enemy today, I wasn’t disappointed.
It had only been one day.
Just one full day since returning to this mansion with Mother.
For now, the priority was to stay here longer and find out who among them was the traitor allied with Daniel Crichton.
