YWPWYLFDM 66

Chapter 66

After leaving the shop, Winfred gestured for his attendants and bodyguards to keep as much distance from him as possible. They still looked confused, but they obediently followed at a distance.

Thanks to that, Winfred and Ayla could sit side by side on a bench in the square with a small fountain nearby, talking in a relaxed atmosphere.

At that moment, the only people around were Winfred’s guards.

“That ring—you said it was too big for me.”

“But if I make it fit now, it won’t fit when my finger grows. It would be a shame.”

Ayla complained in a sulky voice, and Winfred let out a small whine, “Hiiing,” as if wronged. It was an adorably childish reaction.

“…How do you know how much my fingers will grow? They might not change at all—or they might get too thick, and then it won’t fit.”

“Oh.”

Ayla had pointed out a flaw in his thinking, and Winfred let out a frustrated sigh, clearly not having considered it.

“Th-then I can just fix it.”

“Really.”

When Winfred said that as if the problem were solved, she couldn’t help but laugh at his helplessness.

Even after more than half a year had passed, there was no awkwardness between Ayla and Winfred—they were as comfortable with each other as if they had just met yesterday.

Winfred fiddled with his fingers, lowering his head as if unsure whether he had something to say, then bit his lip, lifted his head, and looked at her.

“…I kept my promise to you. I told your parents that you would definitely return.”

At his words, Ayla stared quietly into his yellow eyes.

Had he solved the riddle she gave him? And was Winfred’s answer truly correct?

“Who are my parents?” she asked, testing him.

Winfred swallowed nervously and spoke in a small voice that barely reached her ears.

“Duke Rodrik Allen Weishafen and Duchess Ophelia Heiling Weishafen.”

“…”

It was a perfect answer, without any unnecessary words.

“Right? I delivered your message to the correct people, didn’t I?”

“Mm, thank you.”

Winfred asked in a worried voice, afraid he might have delivered Ayla’s message to the wrong people, and she shyly expressed her gratitude.

Feeling reassured that he had completed his task properly, Winfred let out a soft, melting laugh. Then, as if a question had occurred to him, he asked cautiously:

“How did you… end up coming so far away? Why were you separated from your parents?”

“…I was too young to remember,” she admitted.

She had wanted to answer him definitively, but there were too many uncertainties—why she had been raised by the enemy Byron, why she had believed he was her real father.

Seeing Ayla frown in pain, Winfred’s expression fell, as if he had made a mistake.

“…Are you close to our parents?”

Ayla asked, observing him carefully.

Perhaps Winfred knew more about her parents than she did, and might even have information about what had happened between Byron and them, and what had happened to her.

Even though she had spent two years with her parents, she knew almost nothing. Not knowing they were her real parents, she hadn’t been curious. Rodrik and Ophelia had kept their distance, assuming she still felt awkward around them.

“Yes. Your father taught me swordsmanship,” Winfred replied proudly.

Though he had only trained briefly when he was very young and soon gave it up because it didn’t suit him, the connection meant he was on friendly terms with them, so he didn’t bother revealing the truth.

“I see. Then… do you know anything about what happened when I disappeared? Even a little?”

“Hmm…”

He paused, thinking.

Winfred also remembered little from when he was very young, but fortunately, he could answer her question. He had done a bit of investigation after realizing that this Ayla was indeed the same Ayla from before.

Though the events were old and he hadn’t dug too deeply to avoid raising suspicions, he could at least offer some answers.

After gathering his thoughts, Winfred spoke:

“I don’t know the details. While your parents were away on urgent matters, the nurse apparently took the baby with her.”

“…I see.”

Had the nurse been bribed by Byron? Was that why she had taken Ayla from her parents and brought her to Byron?

As Ayla pondered this, Winfred hesitantly continued:

“But… your father seems to suspect that Byron, my uncle, was behind it. However…”

He trailed off.

All the clues pointed to the truth of that suspicion. It had been Ayla who had inadvertently revealed that Byron was behind the attempt on him.

Yet Winfred was afraid of the truth being revealed—because the one who had caused Ayla so much pain was his own blood.

Even if it was an uncle he barely remembered from his very young age.

He was terrified that Ayla would hate him.

“…That’s correct,” she confirmed harshly, making him face the painful truth.

‘Then… the one who hurt Ayla is really my uncle.’

Winfred swallowed back tears, trying not to cry.

“So… you’re with my uncle?” he asked.

“…Yes.”

Ayla gazed quietly at Winfred, whose face looked strangely sad.

She thought that, considering he had entrusted the only crown prince’s swordsmanship training to her father, the royal family and the Weishafen family couldn’t be on bad terms. Maybe it would be okay to confide in Winfred.

She took a deep breath.

“He plans to use me to take revenge on my father. He raised me, brainwashing me to believe I was his own daughter… to turn me into a weapon to kill my father. Of course, he doesn’t know that I know this truth.”

Ayla said this calmly, but hearing it caused Winfred’s chest to ache unbearably. His yellow eyes, which had been holding back, welled up with tears.

How could someone be so cruel?

The fact that they shared blood made it all the more horrifying.

“…Don’t cry, Winfred. Why are you crying?”

She hadn’t revealed this to make him cry.

Ayla looked troubled, unsure what to do.

Winfred’s trembling voice broke the silence:

“I’m sorry… that my uncle… did that to you…”

“…It’s not your fault. Winfred, you didn’t ask to be born as his nephew. There’s nothing for you to apologize for.”

She wiped his tears with her sleeve.

“So… you don’t hate me?”

“…Of course not. Why would I? You’re my only friend.”

It was true. In her previous life, focused only on her father, and in this life, driven solely by the desire for revenge, Winfred was her first and only friend.

“Thank you,” Winfred said sincerely.

“For not hating me… for not resenting me for being Byron’s nephew. Thank you.”

“…You’re welcome,” Ayla said, pretending to be aloof, embarrassed by his sincerity.

After that, a brief silence fell between them. Not an awkward or uncomfortable silence, but a calm, comfortable quiet where words weren’t needed.

Seizing the moment, Winfred fidgeted and inched his hand toward Ayla’s.

‘It’s fine for friends to hold hands, isn’t it?’ he thought.

But just then, Ayla suddenly sat up as if remembering something.

“Do you know anything about my mother? I… secretly read a letter, and it said something about what my mother did… and that father approved. But Byron tore up the letter, so I couldn’t read the rest.”

“Oh? Uh, so…”

Winfred flinched, embarrassed, wondering if she had discovered his little scheme, and his face flushed.

He thought carefully about what she had just said.

“What exactly did the letter say?” he asked.

“Well…”

Ayla recounted what she remembered reading. Upon hearing it, Winfred immediately understood what that cryptic letter implied: the Duchess’s pregnancy and childbirth. It had to be one of the two, he thought.

But whether he should tell Ayla was another matter entirely. Could a third party reveal to her, more than ten years later, that her parents had had another child? And would it hurt her to know?

He had sometimes felt lonely as an only child and wished for siblings, but he knew that having a younger sibling wasn’t always a blessing for every child.