Chapter 122
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 122
“Here is the record from December 7th, six years ago.”
Max, the chief aide to Marquis Aster Frezier, spoke as he pointed to the documents.
“On this day, Viscount Lilius Frezier sent an urgent messenger from the main castle.”
Lilius was a man who was incredibly shrewd in his conduct.
Compared to the way he acted toward Nigella, he had practically groveled before his eldest brother and the head of the house, Marquis Aster Frezier.
“On that day, he claimed Lady Tulia had a severe case of the flu and was in critical condition, requesting several rare medicinal herbs...”
Luc Kelposher, who stood silently behind Grand Duke Asis Frezier, wore a grim expression.
“Those are all exceptionally difficult to obtain.”
“Yes. In particular, this ‘Shine Flower’ is an herb that wouldn’t be found in the Grand Ducal House, or even the Imperial Family. It only grows beyond the territories occupied by the barbarians.”
Even now, Max broke into a cold sweat just thinking about that frantic night.
“To obtain this herb urgently, the Marquis personally broke through a barbarian outpost. He was severely injured during that mission—”
“...He was severely injured? My father was?”
Leon asked reflexively. It was a story even the twins were hearing for the first time.
Max nodded slowly.
“Yes. He is fine now, but... regardless, because of those events, he was unable to come to the Grand Duchy. After his wounds had healed somewhat, another letter arrived.”
“What did the letter say?”
Grand Duke Asis Frezier asked in a low voice.
Max swallowed hard and pulled a crumpled piece of paper from his coat.
As the Grand Duke took the letter and read through it, his eyes began to burn like fire.
“I have raised a beast, not a human! That wicked wretch, Lilius Frezier!”
The paper, which clearly showed its age, was written in Lilius’s handwriting. Along with a long greeting, it contained updates on Tulia’s condition.
The core of it was a single paragraph.
[Brother Aster. Tulia was deeply heartbroken that you did not come. Beyond mere heartbreak, she cried her eyes out in her young aunt’s arms, saying she never wanted to see your face again.
We will do our best to soothe her, but it is a fact that you were not by her side when she nearly died of a high fever. For the sake of the child’s stability, please refrain from coming to the main castle for the time being.
The common opinion among the chief physicians is that the child might go into convulsions just by seeing you.]
* * *
Creeeak, thud.
I remained silent for a moment as the door closed.
Marquis Aster Frezier.
He looked like a man who hadn't had the luxury—or even the thought—to change his clothes.
He was wearing the exact same outfit he had on when he first arrived at Sandra’s birthday party.
The Marquis stood still. Instead of speaking to me, he looked around my room first.
He took in the shabby, creaky bedroom where everything, except for the duvet, was old and worn.
I couldn't see the shadow that fell across his face clearly.
The room was already dark.
However.
“Tulia.”
At some point, I realized his voice as he called my name was incredibly heavy.
One step.
Two steps.
Footsteps as heavy as his voice echoed in my ears.
Under the moonlight, Marquis Aster’s cheeks looked hollow.
Could a person become so haggard in just half a day? It was almost strange.
“So this is where you stayed.”
“...”
“No. You were right. This is where you survived...”
“...”
“Tulia.”
The moment the Marquis called my name, hesitating in a way that was so unlike him, so utterly out of character.
Whoosh.
A cold wind blew fiercely through the open window. Though it carried a hint of spring, it was still biting.
I swayed for a moment like a flower blinded by the moonlight. Unfortunately, I put weight on my sprained ankle and let out an involuntary groan of pain.
It happened in an instant.
A hand easily caught and supported me as I was about to fall.
I felt the strength in that hand.
A hand that could surely lift ten of me with ease—the ‘real father’ of Tulia, a man who possessed both immense authority and physical power.
“I heard you injured your ankle. Because of Nigella.”
So he had heard about that too.
I didn't know who told him.
However, I could tell just by looking at the Marquis’s expression.
He knew that I had been injured because Nigella threw me aside to save his own daughter.
Is that why he looks so grim?
Or...
“First... you should sit.”
When I nodded, the Marquis lowered me onto the sofa.
His touch was careful, but the old sofa let out a loud creak.
Since this room was never meant to receive guests, there was only one sofa.
Normally, a noble’s room would have a pair of matching sofas with a tea table decorated with a vase between them.
The Marquis didn't even sit next to me.
He didn't remain standing, either.
He simply knelt on one knee before me.
Marquis Aster Frezier.
In that posture, he looked up at me.
We were silent for a while.
Our eyes, a shade of dark forest green so identical it would be impossible to deny our relationship, simply stared at each other.
The Marquis was the first to look away.
He turned his head toward my bed—specifically, toward the tulip painting hanging on the wall.
[Tulia Frezier, 15th Birthday.]
A painting with a single, indifferent sentence written on it.
“Every year on your birthday, I sent tulip paintings.”
“...”
“Two years ago, I sent a painting of orange tulips. I was afraid you’d get tired of seeing pink ones every day.”
He was right.
The paintings the Marquis sent were filled with tulips.
They were a pale pink, similar to my hair, with stems painted in a vibrant, lively light green.
“And every year, I received a drawing from Lilius.”
“A drawing?”
I realized a beat late that Marquis Aster was holding a crumpled piece of paper in his hand.
There was no way the Marquis didn't notice my gaze shifting toward it.
“Tulia.”
He seemed to hesitate, which was rare for him, before finally handing me the paper.
My eyes froze as I unfolded it.
“I asked him every year to draw the place where you were staying. It’s been quite a while. About six years.”
“...”
I stared at the heavily wrinkled paper.
It was exactly as the Marquis said.
The crumpled drawing depicted my bedroom.
It was my bedroom, but a vastly upgraded version.
A fireplace roared with a warm fire, and the bed was pristine.
The snow-white duvet was embroidered with gold thread, the carpets and tapestries looked plush, and velvet curtains generously draped over the large window.
In the drawing, there was no mold on the wallpaper, no creaky old table, and no frayed sofa.
The only thing that was the same was the painting inside the bedroom.
The tulip painting I thought was the only thing the indifferent Marquis sent on my birthdays.
There wasn't just one drawing.
Though the details of the room changed slightly in each of the several pages, they all depicted a cozy, warm room that a beloved young lady would naturally have.
Of course, the tulip painting on the wall in the drawings changed every year as well.
So that even a stranger could tell the passage of time.
“My two uncles certainly worked hard to use their heads.”
“...”
“And you trusted them, pushing me to the brink of death.”
“...Yes.”
“Did you think showing me this would make me forgive everything? Marquis. No, Father. No.”
“...”
“Dad.”
My throat tightened as I spat out that word. It felt as if my entire mouth was cut, as if I were harboring a word I didn't dare speak.
“Dad, you neglected me. You never came to see me. No matter what excuse you give, I can’t understand it. In all that time, did you never once want to see me?”
“...”
“Why did I have to live hearing that I was an abandoned lady, that I wasn't Marquis Aster Frezier’s biological daughter? Why? I was too young to endure those words. Did you really not know? Did you truly not know? Did you just assume I was living well without any trouble, just...”
I felt suffocated as I spoke. I barely managed to draw a breath, and before tears could even well up, they were already streaming down my cheeks.
I wiped my cheek harshly with the back of my hand and asked.
“Did you just think so complacently?”
“...Tulia.”
“I would have been better off as a pet dog. At least you would have checked on me every day.”
Accusations easily turn into mockery.
“I heard from the vassals that the horse you ride is an exceptionally fine one. Is that horse not more precious than me? If you had to choose between that horse and me, you’d obviously choose the horse, wouldn't you? Because unlike the daughter you abandoned, you saw it every day—”
“Tulia!”
Was it because my mockery was too hard to hear? I fell silent at the Marquis’s angry voice.
I was reflexively frightened, but on the other hand, I felt relieved.
Because the Marquis had finally started to get angry at me.
I... yes.
In truth, I wanted Marquis Aster to get angry.
I wanted him to coldly turn away, saying he couldn't listen to this anymore and that he had done enough.
Because wounds eat away at a person like that.
I wanted to remain consumed by the wounds that hadn't been shattered.
I wanted to dismiss all his words as pathetic excuses and hypocrisy.
I wanted to stay forever adrift with this twisted heart.
But contrary to my expectations.
Unlike my warped hopes.
“Even if I had to choose between your life and mine, it would be you. It is you, Tulia.”