Chapter 5 – Part 1: The Governess and the Little Devil (4):
Agnes lay dazed, unable to collect herself. A man’s gaze landed on her face. Even though she was sprawled in a pile of horse dung with disheveled hair, the man didn’t change his expression. He looked at her like she was an annoyance, merely in the way.
Agnes knew she needed to say something—anything—but she couldn’t move.
The Duke of Battenberg.
The man who killed her.
She couldn’t remember the exact moment of her death, but the fear remained vividly etched in her mind.
“I told you to move.”
“……”
Agnes blinked twice. The shadow of her delusion vanished, and reality came into focus.
She had barely managed to catch the little troublemaker before he fell off the roof. She herself had landed in a pile of manure, only to run into the child’s guardian. Normally, Agnes always wore a polite smile when meeting parents—but this time was different.
Her employer might be the one paying her, but money wasn’t the reason Agnes had come here. With fear receding, frustration and anger filled the void.
“If only you had educated your nephew properly!”
She didn’t want to simply blame others—but from a victim’s perspective, resentment was inevitable. The man in front of her had possessed from the beginning the very power she had so desperately wished for in her final moments.
Marquis Reynold had committed treason because he was a fool. That much was his fault. But at the time of his execution, he had only been a 21-year-old boy.
And even though the treasonous marquis had been “handled,” it didn’t absolve this man of his own responsibility. Many people, including Agnes, who had worked in the estate, were killed during that “handling.”
This man had undeniably been one of the main culprits.
“…When someone collapses…”
“…?”
“The first thing you ask is if they’re alright.”
“……”
The look he gave her—utterly silent—seemed to say, Why should I care about you? Another thought lingered in his eyes: Is this thing even human?
“The uncle and the nephew are exactly the same.”
Even though he hadn’t yet earned the title of the Empire’s strongest, the Duke of Battenberg was already Crown Prince’s closest aide and a distinguished knight. His fame alone said enough about the life he had lived.
The Emperor’s Sword.
The Empire’s First Blade.
He was a man who bowed to no one but the Emperor.
His dispassionate gaze toward others revealed his nature—cold and indifferent to anything that didn’t interest him. And his nephew clearly didn’t interest him.
If he had even a sliver of affection, he wouldn’t have allowed Marquis Reynold to cross that final line into treason.
Agnes held out her hand. Predictably, the Duke didn’t take her dirty hand. Gritting her teeth, she spoke:
“You’re not going to help me up?”
“Why should I?”
“Because I fell. Surely you wouldn’t just ignore a lady in distress?”
“A lady…?”
You? His eyes were filled with disbelief.
“Is it the horse dung that’s bothering you?”
“……”
Even with no expression, she could clearly read his disgust. Agnes smirked inwardly. Anyone would hesitate to help a stranger covered in dung. Especially someone who liked cleanliness.
Still, she didn’t withdraw her outstretched hand.
“You don’t need a reason to help someone.”
“And I don’t need a reason to listen to a sermon.”
“Do you need a reason for everything you do?”
“If I don’t want to do something, and there’s no reason I should—I don’t.”
He was young, but he responded impressively well for someone who had no reason to entertain the conversation. Agnes knew her tone and words were uncalled for. It was essentially venting, and she couldn’t deny it.
To the Duke, she must have seemed like a lunatic. But she didn’t care. Agnes had something to say—something she had wanted to say to him for a long, long time.
“In this world, Your Grace…”
“…Who are you? I don’t recognize your face—but you clearly know who I am.”
“There are things you must do even if you don’t want to, and even if there’s no reason.”
“I asked who you are.”
“Helping someone in need is one of those things…”
“You’re not making any sense.”
“So is caring for a nephew who lost both his parents.”
Comfort. Concern. Just those. Agnes finally pulled back her hand and stood up on her own. The plopping sound of manure falling from her was grotesque. If she didn’t clean herself soon, the stench would stick for days.
It’s not like she enjoyed the smell.
“Did you think I wanted to come here—to meet the man who killed me, the man responsible for my death?”
She had wanted to run far away, never to get involved again. But knowing she might be able to change things made it impossible to look away. She could never live in peace otherwise.
So she had walked in, of her own volition.
Straightening her back and lifting her chin, Agnes met the Duke’s incredulous gaze head-on.
“If you keep living like this, you’ll regret it.”
“……”
“You’ll see I’m right.”
Because the last Duke of Battenberg she had seen… had, indeed, regretted it.
“It’s none of your business.”
“It is.”
Because I died because of you people. Agnes walked over and stood directly in front of the Duke.
Maybe it was the smell—he wrinkled his nose and brow in visible discomfort.
“Now that I’m here, I won’t let you regret it.”
“I’ve asked several times—who are you? And could you back up? You reek.”
Agnes grinned. The uncle, like the nephew, clearly preferred cleanliness.
“Hey, you alive? Over here, old man!”
It was then that a high-pitched child’s voice interrupted them.
“Mr. Graham!”
Gasping for breath, Timothy came running, followed by a pale-faced Carlo. They froze in shock as they took in the scene. Carlo looked back and forth between the filthy Agnes and his master, choking on air.
Timothy was no better.
The troublemaker who looked like he feared nothing shrank like a scared animal at the sight of his guardian.
No wonder.
It was obvious what kind of relationship the uncle and nephew had.
A cold stare fell on Timothy. One shoe was missing, and his clothes were a mess after running for over an hour. The Duke slowly scanned him and sighed.
A sigh full of disappointment. Timothy’s cheeks flushed red and his eyes dropped to the ground.
No wonder the kid rebels.
Agnes understood now why Timothy acted out. She reached out and grabbed the Duke’s hand—still filthy from the manure.
“Hurk…”
While Timothy and Carlo gasped in horror, the Duke merely frowned.
“You asked who I was. My name is Agnes May Graham. I’ve been hired as the new governess of this household starting today.”
“…A governess, you say.”
“Yes. And it seems I have not one, but two students.”
Agnes smiled brightly and gave his hand a shake.
Carlo looked like he wanted to scream, but no sound came. Timothy stared at her like she had lost her mind.
The second student she referred to was painfully obvious.
“Now then, shouldn’t Your Grace introduce yourself as well? I’ve done my part.”
“Ethan Henry Battenberg. …Carlo, what have you brought into my home?”
Carlo mumbled an apology.
“Sh-should I fire—”
“That’s enough.”
If he had said “fire her,” Agnes was ready to provoke him: What, running away already? Admitting defeat?
She glanced at Ethan, eyes sparkling with challenge. He pulled his hand free, wiped it off, and said:
“If you say you won’t make me regret it, then I’ll keep you. For now.”
“……”
“Let’s see how long you last, teacher.”
“That’s my line…”
Agnes wasn’t planning on losing. She was ready to fight to the death.
Ethan handed Timothy’s reins back to Carlo. Agnes watched them walk away, then collapsed to the ground. Only then did Timothy finally yell out:
“Ugh, the smell!”
“It’s been smelling for a while. Why react now?”
“Go away, you stupid pumpkin! You stink!”
“Yes, yes, I’m a stupid pumpkin. Now Timothy, could you go find someone for me?”
“Are you hurt or something? Did you break a leg?”
Still, he seemed concerned. Agnes glanced sideways at Timothy. Even though he complained about the smell, he hadn’t run away.
There’s hope in him.
The Duke of Battenberg wasn’t just a renowned knight in the Empire—he was famous for his good looks too. Timothy must’ve inherited that. Now that his behavior wasn’t so awful, his charm began to show.
Unlike his uncle’s dark hair, Timothy had shining golden locks. And while the Duke had piercing blue eyes, Timothy had soft green ones.
Aside from the hair and eye color, their features were strikingly similar.
Looks like an angel, really.
Agnes was lost in thought, not answering. Timothy shouted again.
“Hey, are you hurt?!”
“Such a temper. I’m not hurt. I just want a bath.”
“Then answer faster! Geez, you scared me!”
“Worried I might be hurt? Were you concerned?”
“No!! I wasn’t!”
“Alright then. Go fetch someone, please, Timothy.”
“Don’t order me around!”
“That was a request. A polite one.”
“What kind of ‘polite’ request is that?! Fine, whatever! I’m leaving!”
Timothy stomped away, making sure to show his anger. But Agnes no longer found him completely horrible like when they first met.
“He’s kind of cute.”
Today had been a fruitful day. She had met both culprits of her death. She had found the cause. And knowing the cause meant she could find the solution.
The indifferent uncle and the foul-tempered nephew—
She would not let them meet such a tragic, murderous end.
Rachel and Eren would be born blessed this time.
The twin siblings had been the result of Marquis Reynold’s reckless affair with his fiancée. If only he had stayed on the right path and married her properly, they wouldn’t have been illegitimate.
They could have grown up happy in a much better environment.
“Teacher, why does Daddy hate us?”
“He said we should never have been born…”
“He said it’s all our fault…”
“Everyone hates us.”
“Teacher… you don’t hate us, do you? You won’t hate us too, right?”
“Everyone does…”
No, my darlings. It’s just that no one knew how to love you properly. Don’t think like that. This time… I won’t let you feel that way.
This time, Teacher will help.
No matter what.
