RVMPT Chapter 103

Chapter 103

The next day, the Marchioness and her husband stood in front of a grave, laying down white flowers and offering their prayers.

I stood a few steps away, quietly staring at the name engraved on the gravestone.

Melonie.

The newly relocated grave now bore the name of Diana’s mother, clearly etched into the stone.

“I never thought we’d actually find her.”

Even now, I couldn’t shake off the surprise I’d felt when Harold first told me the news.

We had all assumed her body had been feed to wild beasts, scattered beyond recovery. Even Diana, who missed her mother more than anyone, had given up on even the faintest hope of a proper burial.

But Harold had taken my words to heart and began searching for the mercenaries who had carried out the original orders.

And thanks to that, we discovered that Diana’s birth mother had not become beast food. Instead, her body had been laid to rest in a cemetery maintained by a temple.

The mercenary, Harold said, couldn’t bring himself to let a woman—who reminded him of his beloved wife—be devoured like that. So he had her properly buried.

“If Diana had known, she would’ve been so happy.”

She had given up, but not completely. Somewhere deep inside, she still held on to a sliver of hope.

I turned my head to look at Harold. He stood silently with a bouquet of white roses, gazing at the grave.

“…How did you even think to search?”

“I didn’t expect to find anything either, not after all this time.”

He spoke quietly, saying he would have told me earlier if he had been sure.

“I just… wanted to try.”

He turned to me.

“She was your mother.”

A gust of wind blew past us. The bouquet of white roses in Harold’s hand fluttered, and their scent filled the air.

“…You must’ve been busy.”

He shrugged with a sly smile tugging at his lips.

“I wasn’t the one doing the searching.”

Fair enough—Harold did have people for that sort of thing.

“The mercenary had retired, so tracking him down took time. But I didn’t do it myself, so instead of worrying about my schedule, maybe say something else?”

Something else. There were a lot of things I could say, but there was one that mattered most right now.

“Thank you.”

I hadn’t even thought of looking. But Harold had, even while busy, and thanks to him, we found the woman Diana had longed for all her life.

It felt like receiving a completely unexpected gift—heartwarming and meaningful. And it made me wonder, again and again, what this kindness from Harold truly meant.

“Why does he go so far for me…?”

But what if I misunderstood again, like last time?

Trying to cool my racing thoughts, I looked away—and that’s when Harold spoke again.

“That’s not what I wanted to hear, though.”

“…Then what do you want me to say?”

My voice came out louder than I intended.

Gasping, I quickly clamped my lips shut, afraid I’d disturbed the couple still praying.

Thankfully, they remained deep in prayer, seemingly undisturbed.

Whew.

Just as I let out a sigh of relief, I heard Harold laugh, the sound so warm it seemed to melt into my ears.

He was grinning now, clearly enjoying my flustered state.

As the heat rose to my face, and I pouted in embarrassment, Harold suddenly leaned in.

He’s not going to kiss me here, is he?!

I instinctively covered my mouth with my hand.

“…Harold, not here.”

I mumbled, hoping he’d understand the meaning.

Harold tilted his head, raising an eyebrow.

“Hmm? I just wanted a closer look at my wife’s face. Why, what naughty thoughts are you having, Diana?”

Ugh, this man. That teasing glint in his eyes told me he knew exactly what he was doing.

Just then, someone cleared their throat behind us. I turned to see Prince Andrew approaching.

“Prince—ah, Sir Dante?”

I corrected myself as I took in his glasses and more casual attire.

He smiled warmly, as if thankful for my consideration.

“To what do we owe the pleasure, Sir Dante?”

I asked, and he glanced briefly at Harold before turning to the marquis and marchioness.

“The Marquis and Marchioness are like family to me. When I heard the news, I couldn’t just stay away.”

At that moment, the couple finished their prayers and turned around.

According to imperial custom, close relatives were to pay respects to the deceased in age order.

As Andrew began conversing with the couple, I walked toward the grave.

The closer I got, the stranger I felt.

I might be living as Diana now, but I wasn’t the real Diana. Standing in front of her mother’s grave made me feel guilty, even if I had done nothing wrong.

Harold placed a hand on my waist.

Only then did I realize I’d slowed down. Ah… he must’ve been worried.

“I’m okay, Harold.”

I smiled to reassure him.

“Alright, then let’s go pay our respects.”

“Mm.”

He handed me the bouquet. I gently laid the flowers at the foot of the gravestone and bowed.

Perhaps Diana’s mother was watching from the afterlife, angry that a stranger had taken over her daughter’s body.

To her, I might be nothing but a thief. And if she resented me, I couldn’t blame her.

After all, I was the one living Diana’s life. I wouldn’t run from that truth.

I looked at the name carved into the stone as if I were meeting her gaze and made a promise.

“Melonie, I’ll live in a way that brings honor to your daughter’s name. I’ll take care of myself, and live a healthy, respectful life.”

That’s all I could offer, as someone who wasn’t truly her daughter.

I bowed my head deeply, then slowly rose.

Just then, something touched the tip of my nose. Surprised, I looked up to see large, fluffy snowflakes drifting down from the sky.

“The first snow.”

“…Yeah.”

Another snowflake landed on my face.

“How strange.”

I stretched my hand out.

“It’s not that cold.”

The snow felt soft and warm somehow. I looked up at the sky, mesmerized by the gentle snowfall.

***

Later, Diana and the Marchioness went off to talk in the greenhouse, finishing a conversation they had started the day before.

That left the three men behind.

“I never imagined Diana was the granddaughter of the Marchioness’s younger sister. You and she both keep surprising me,” said Prince Andrew.

The Marquis nodded.

“Indeed. I thought I was too old to be surprised by anything. But I’ve clearly been proven wrong. I did think she looked familiar, but to think…”

A hint of sadness clouded the marquis’s expression. He had dearly loved his late sister-in-law, and knowing her child met a tragic fate too, weighed heavily on him.

Prince Andrew sipped his tea and looked at Harold.

“We were in the same boat. You could’ve told me you’d recovered. Bit cold, don’t you think, Duke?”

“You heard about it, didn’t you?”

“Hah. You know that’s not what I mean.”

Andrew frowned slightly. It was clear Harold wasn’t going to explain how he got better. Andrew gave up asking.

He glanced out the window at the heavy snowfall. White flakes covered the ground—clearly winter had arrived in earnest.

Judging by the weather, he’d likely be stuck here for a while. Setting his teacup down, he looked back at Harold, more serious now.

“Duke Harold. Isn’t it time you told us?”

“…”

“The Marchioness said you had something important to share with me. What is it?”

The mood in the room shifted, growing heavy with seriousness. Even the Marquis now looked at Harold with calm but attentive eyes.

Harold gave a slight nod, his tone steady and composed.