Chapter 121: What She Wants
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 121: What She Wants
Herdin had brought her to an elementary school.
"I heard you used to teach children here."
After learning that Blair had once worked as a teacher, he had made a generous donation to the school in the name of 'Blair Delmark' before bringing her for a visit.
"It would be difficult for you to work as a teacher now, but I thought we could help the school in other ways," he explained.
A duchess couldn't possibly work as a teacher again, but he knew how much she loved children and hoped that seeing them would lift her spirits.
"...You made a donation?"
"Yes, in your name."
But Blair, far from pleased, looked even more somber.
Just as she was about to say something, a copper-skinned man emerged from the school building and approached them.
"Your Grace, Duchess. You've arrived. I received word of your visit and have been waiting."
His accent was slightly different from that of a typical Clanian, but he spoke the language fluently.
Blair knew him well. It was Tutor Petro, who taught the Southern Continent language to the children.
Her face lit up at the sight of a familiar face, only to stiffen a moment later when she registered that he had called her ‘Duchess.’
"Tutor Petro."
"Oh, it's Instructor Arwen!"
Before Blair could properly greet him, the children playing with a ball in the front yard spotted her and came rushing over.
"Teacher!"
It had only been a few days, but she was as thrilled to see them as if years had passed.
Just as Blair was about to greet them, Petro stepped forward, blocking their path.
"Children, you mustn't be rude. Didn't I tell you earlier? You must call her the Duchess now, not Teacher. Her circumstances required her to live among us informally, but she is an honored guest visiting Nerha."
"Ah, right..."
Petro must have warned them beforehand, because the children hesitated, offering only awkward greetings from a distance.
"Hello."
Hearing Petro's words, some children looked at her with frightened eyes, while others still seemed delighted. But even they didn't dare show their joy openly, cautiously watching the adults.
"It's alright, Tutor Petro," Blair said, noticing their hesitation.
"No, Duchess. You have generously embraced the children, but they must also learn basic etiquette."
Blair tried to intervene, but he was strict, instructing them on proper decorum.
"Alright, everyone, back to your places. Don't you have a match to finish?"
The children glanced back at Blair reluctantly before returning to the yard, but one boy remained rooted to the spot.
It was the boy who had a crush on her.
"Is that man Instructor Arwen's husband?"
Herdin met the boy’s bold stare with his usual indifference. Unlike the other children, who would have run away in fear, this boy—who looked to be about eleven or twelve—met his gaze with a unique sharpness.
Petro, nervously watching Herdin’s reaction, quickly scolded the child.
"‘That man’? That is the Duke of the Empire, Chris! He is Instructor Arwen’s—no, the Duchess’s—husband."
"...I don't like him," Chris grumbled.
"Now, you go on back. The game can't start without its star striker."
Missing Chris’s sullen mutter, Petro hurriedly nudged the boy’s back.
"Please, make yourselves comfortable before you leave," Petro said, bowing to them both before walking away with the boy.
Blair stared blankly at their retreating figures, a bitter smile touching her lips as she lowered her gaze.
Petro was right. The children were young and inexperienced. If they were informal with her, they might act the same way toward other nobles and get into trouble. For their sake, teaching them strict etiquette was the correct thing to do, but...
I'll never be called "teacher" by those children again...
Just a few days ago, she had been a part of that scene, sharing small moments and laughing with them.
But now, she was the only one cast out of that picture.
All because she was the wife of the man standing beside her.
Just like that, she had become a complete stranger, living in a different world. The sudden realization filled her with a bone-deep loneliness.
Just then, Herdin took her hand.
"Let's go sit on that bench."
"No, I'm fine."
Blair stopped, gently pulling her hand from his grasp.
Herdin looked back, puzzled. A cool breeze swept through the empty space where her hand had been.
"Let's go back now."
Contrary to his expectations, her expression was distorted with sadness. His brow furrowed.
Why?
I'm doing everything you want. But...
Why aren't you smiling?
Herdin rubbed his forehead and asked with a sigh, "What is it now?"
"...It's nothing. I'm just tired. I want to rest."
As she tried to return to the carriage, hiding her true feelings, Herdin grabbed her hand again. He caught her shoulders, forcing her to look at him as she tried to turn away.
"You look more than just tired."
Forced to face him, Blair parted her lips as if to speak, but ultimately said nothing, refusing to reveal what was on her mind.
"This isn't your fault. It's my problem. I'm sorry for worrying you."
Her evasive apology didn't ease his frustration; it only made him more anxious. Her resigned attitude, so different from her usual defiance, felt as if she were giving up on him.
"Not because of me?" he pressed. "Then you shouldn't have worried me. You've looked miserable beside me this entire time, yet you claim it has nothing to do with me?"
"..."
"What on earth is the problem? I'm giving you everything you could want. The most expensive things, the most precious things—everything. Is that not enough to satisfy you?"
"...Is that what I wanted?"
At his words, the emotions she had been suppressing finally burst forth. The sight, strangely, brought Herdin a sliver of relief.
He softened his voice slightly. "Then tell me. What is it you want? What ruined your mood?"
Blair let out a hollow chuckle, as if he were coaxing a child. She had been telling him what she wanted all along, but he had never once listened. The idea that he would start now was ridiculous.
"And if I tell you, will you even listen?"
"..."
"My opinions, my thoughts—they don't matter to you. You have no intention of listening. You aren't even curious about my reasons."
"What are you so unhappy about?" Herdin's expression hardened. "I'm not being stubborn. I'm doing everything you want."
"...'What I want'?" she repeated, her voice laced with ice. "This is what you want. All of it. Giving me expensive and precious things without a thought for my will, then telling yourself it's for my sake."
"..."
"Of course, anyone else would say I'm ungrateful. So in the end, it's my problem. You've done nothing wrong, so don't worry about it."
She sarcastically echoed his logic, blaming herself just as he always did, framing her feelings as mere stubbornness. She knew that whatever his motives, he had chosen only the best and most expensive things for her, even if he'd ignored her wishes completely.
She thought that by condemning his intentions, by hurting him, she might feel some relief.
But why did the dagger she threw at him feel as if it had pierced her own heart? The words she'd flung like weapons were the very ones that made her want to cry.
Blair turned away, trying to suppress the tears welling in her eyes. She refused to cry in front of him. Tears were just a tool to momentarily soften someone's heart and evade the problem, not solve it.
But Herdin wouldn't let it go. He sighed, turning her back to face him. "Blair, wait. We're not finished talking."
The tears she could no longer hold back finally spilled over. She wiped them away, lowering her head.
"Let me go. I want to stop..."
Her voice was utterly exhausted. Her slender shoulders trembled pitifully as she tried to stifle her sobs. At the sight, Herdin's resolve wavered. The frustration from moments before vanished, replaced by an overwhelming urge to comfort her.
"Blair."
Just then, a familiar pain lanced through his head, and his vision flashed white.
I'm sorry, Blair.
This time, no vision appeared. Instead, a thought that was clearly his own surfaced, and with it came a wave of aching sorrow, as if his heart were being torn apart.
Herdin froze, holding his breath. The emotion wasn't his, yet its weight was so immense he couldn't breathe, as if the feeling were his own.
The symptoms again...
He was about to question the increasingly frequent episodes when Blair's crying face came back into focus. The strange, borrowed emotion urged him forward.
It was then, as Herdin was drawn by that feeling to wipe away her tears, that—
"Ah, ugh..."
Blair, who had been sobbing, suddenly gasped. Her face contorted in pain as she clutched her stomach and collapsed.
"Blair!"
Herdin caught her reflexively, his eyes wide with panic as he stared down at her.