Chapter 94 

Alone in the room, Benjamin blinked slowly. He lifted the teacup in front of him. The tea Damian had brought before leaving had already gone cold.

‘How did he find out?’

Though many thoughts remained, he deemed the final truth too heavy to voice, and so he left it unsaid.

Benjamin glanced awkwardly down at his reflection in the tea. Though he looked in the mirror each morning to tidy his appearance, it had been a while since he truly examined his own face.

Wrinkled skin, white beard, and graying hair. He had aged considerably. 

Benjamin, the butler of the Winter family, who had pledged his loyalty since childhood. He had seen, heard, and felt countless secrets within this mansion. Benjamin was a faithful servant, and a discreet one, that was why he had remained in his position into old age. He spoke none of what he had seen, looked away from what he had heard, and ignored what he had felt.

[“From now on, he is my son, Damian.”]

He could still clearly recall the day a small boy, no older than four or five, first stepped into the mansion. In the blink of an eye, more than ten years had passed.

Benjamin took a sip of the now-cold tea.

‘Is it no longer something that can be hidden?’

It had always been a secret that would one day need to be told. With a quiet sigh, Benjamin lowered his gaze, gently steadying himself.

— — — 

Damian returned to the room.

[“She was the former Duke Winter’s illegitimate child.”]

At Damian’s words, Benjamin showed no sign of surprise. As though he had been waiting for this moment, he began to speak with calm resolve.

[“She was the result of a one-night mistake, but the late Duke was desperate for an heir. Eight years into marriage, there had still been no child. So he raised her as his own. Five years later, His Excellency was born, and Lady Vanessa disappeared. That’s all there is to it.”]

His voice was steady as he delivered the facts, and with that, his account came to an end.

Benjamin added that he knew nothing of what happened afterward. He seemed to firmly believe that Vanessa had died. But… 

[If you wish to save her, leave the mansion tonight.]

Beneath the short message was a signature: Vanessa. It had been delivered by a crow.

The word ‘her’ clearly referred to Daphne. There was no doubt Vanessa knew of Daphne’s current condition.

‘Even if Father returns safely, I can’t be sure.’

The mana stone only prolonged life. It couldn’t restore the body completely.

There was no other way.

Damian rose and slipped on his coat. 

— — — 

In the silence of the mansion, Damian’s footsteps echoed louder than usual. His destination: the Chamberlain’s quarters. The well-oiled door opened without resistance.

Carefully stepping past the sleeping Chamberlain, Damian reached under the desk, feeling along the ceiling of a drawer. His fingers brushed thick documents.

Using the moonlight, he scanned their contents. Every misdeed the Chamberlain and the Chambermaid had committed was meticulously recorded.

He took the file and left it in Vent's room. Vent was sharp. He would understand Damian’s intent without needing a note. It was truly the end.

“…”

But just as Damian was about to leave the estate, something stopped him – a small lake glinting under the moonlight. He approached, removed his coat, and drew his sword.

With a sharp strike, the thick layer of ice cracked violently, shattering across the lake’s surface. Without hesitation, Damian dove in.

Splash.

The biting cold pierced his skin as he swam deeper. The frozen waters dulled the sensation in his hands and feet almost instantly. But still, he pressed on.

Deeper. Farther. Just a little more.

Only after several minutes did Damian resurface. Gasping for air, he stretched out his arms. In his hand was a locket. With trembling fingers, Damian opened it.

“…”

Daphne’s portrait remained intact. He let out a breath of relief and clutched the locket tightly.

As he shook the water from his hair and reached for his coat… 

“Young Lord.”

A familiar voice called from behind.

“…Why are you here?”

Damian asked, slipping on his coat. He had known Vent would be awake when he entered his room.

“Even if I tried to stop you, you'd leave anyway.”

“…”

He was right. Even if Vent had awakened and grabbed him, Damian would still have gone.

“I’ve been by your side for years, Young Lord.”

Vent pulled out a small travel bag. As he expected, Damian had planned to leave with nothing but the clothes on his back.

What Vent handed him was a sword, the very one Daphne had given him.

It was a gift from Madam.

Vent forcibly placed the sword in Damian’s hands.

“…What?”

Under the moonlight, the sword gleamed with exquisite craftsmanship, far too fine to be the work of an unknown smith.

The sword trembled faintly in Damian’s hands. He looked down at it with blurred vision.

“Young Lord… please visit the lady before you go.”

“…”

“She’s waiting for you.”

Vent gently pushed him forward.

— — — 

Damian reached for the doorknob he hadn’t touched in days.

The door opened. With each step, he drew closer to Daphne.

“…Mother.”

At last, Damian stood before her. But now that he was here, he couldn’t find the words. He had thought there were so many things he wanted to say…

In the end, he blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“…When I said I wished you’d disappear, I lied.”

When the wind tousled your hair and you smiled at those cruel words, why did you smile? If you had cursed me, slapped me, gotten angry, it would have been easier.

He still couldn’t understand why you smiled then.

That’s the kind of person you are. Difficult, unreadable… like someone who could vanish in an instant, without hesitation.

“None of the things I said were sincere.”

Whenever he spoke harshly, Daphne would try to explain. And every time, he felt relief.

Because when you reacted that way, it meant you hadn’t given up on me. That’s why I kept pushing just to be sure.

The truth was, not even once, not for a single moment, had I truly hated you.

Even when I threw the flowers you had picked with scratched hands. Even when I pushed away your hand clinging to my hem. Even when you caught my hand as we fell from the cliff, how could I ever hate you?

“…I was a coward.”

Mother, what were you trying to protect when you threw your life away and endured such humiliation?

Damian couldn't bring himself to speak the words swirling in his mouth. Instead, he looked up with quiet resolve.

Just as you had once thrown yourself forward to save me, I vowed to do the same now.

Damian knelt and took Daphne’s cold hand in his. Desperate to share even a little warmth, he cupped both her hands in his. Unable to bring himself to kiss them, he pressed his forehead gently to the back of her hand.

Then, arranging her hands neatly, he placed a bundle of wildflowers atop them, flowers he had picked from the greenhouse.

“Please wait for me, Mother.”

There’s something I need to tell you.

But Damian chose to save those words for later. He would say them when Daphne woke.

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