* * *
Eyes shut tight, the baroness kept her head bowed, unsure what to do.
“Do you think I’ll allow that?”
“Th-That’s…”
The baron bit his lip, glancing between his wife and the document.
“Please… give us time to think.”
“I’m not a man of great patience. I can’t say how much longer I’ll tolerate Edward—the one who tried to drown the Grand Duke of the North in the sea.”
“…”
The first to reach for the quill was the baroness.
“I’ll sign.”
At her soft voice, the oppressive air around Killian slightly eased.
“We mustn’t give up a present gain for a future that won’t change.”
Killian let out a hollow laugh. “A gain,” she had said.
The woman weighed profit and loss even in finding her own blood.
Now that he thought about it, he had assumed the baron had pushed Nael onto him, but that had been a grave misunderstanding.
A woman standing above a dull-witted baron—ha, so that’s how it was.
Aiden neatly set down the documents, ink, and a feathered pen in front of the baron.
“Edward is unharmed, I trust.”
Killian only nodded in response.
Either way, the boy was still breathing.
Groaning, the baron hesitated, but the baroness signed first.
This ordeal would only end if they did what the Grand Duke demanded.
How could they possibly go against someone of such vastly superior rank?
It wasn’t a demand to return gold coins—just a simple document acknowledging the two of them.
With one signature, she could finally leave this dreadful North and return to her own estate.
The baron, too, finished signing.
Clack. He set down the feather pen, his eyes twitching slightly.
A gaze filled with resentment and frustration, with no place to go, landed on Killian.
“Only the baron will come with me. As for the lady…”
The baroness stifled a cough, covering her mouth with a handkerchief.
Clutching her chest as if suffocating, she lightly pounded it with a clenched fist.
Still unable to catch her breath, a maid hurried over to gently stroke her thin back.
“Your health is concerning. You’ll stay here until the baron returns with Edward. It seems you’re in no condition to be out in the cold winds.”
As Killian turned and exited the drawing room, the baroness finally exhaled, her body trembling.
She collapsed to the floor, staring at the door through which he had left.
The oppressive tension that had devoured the room’s air slowly began to lift.
“I need to see Nael.”
Supported by the maid, the baroness let go of her dress hem.
Her body, worn from travel, had rapidly declined in health since arriving in the North, and she spent most of her days bedridden.
Even after a visit from the ducal family’s physician, the improvement had been fleeting.
They had muttered something absurd about her body adjusting to the chill she’d never experienced before.
“Whew…”
Taking a deep breath, the baroness straightened her back.
“I’ll prepare your coat, madam.”
“Yes. The Grand Duke shows such concern for Nael. As his mother, I should at least see him once. That child, born from the belly of that fox who seduced the baron…”
She paused, unable to speak for a moment, then continued.
“…And now, having seduced the Grand Duke as well, just like her. Isn’t that proof of how capable he is? This is why blood matters.”
She lightly tapped the maid’s cheek.
“Let’s go.”
“Yes, madam.”
Click-clack.
Her chin held high, boots made of lamb’s wool cut across the wide corridor.
Compared to the baron’s manor, the scale and history of this place were overwhelming.
She couldn’t help but admire it at first—but that only lasted a day or two.
Now, she was sick of it.
All she wanted was to return home.
She decided to look into returning by ship and opened the doors of the annex.
Whoosh.
The fierce wind carried flurries of snow into the room, sticking to her expensive dress.
She pulled her hood over her head and stepped forward slowly, one foot at a time.
But her intentions quickly crumbled.
“Madam, you may not enter.”
“I must see Nael. Please step aside.”
Philip gave a gentle smile and politely declined.
“Nael is currently sleeping soundly. His Highness has ordered that no one be allowed in.”
“‘Nael’? Since when does a commoner receive such honorifics from the ducal house’s steward?”
“He is a precious guest of His Highness. That title is appropriate. Unless His Highness gives different orders, even you, madam, may not see him. Unless you’d like me to ask His Highness directly?”
“…No. That won’t be necessary. Just let Nael know I came. If he has any sense, he’ll come to me.”
Her proud entrance across the snow had been rendered meaningless.
The unyielding steward gave her no opening.
Watching her storm off in frustration, Philip clicked his tongue lightly.
“Close the door.”
The heavy door shut firmly, sealing away the sharp wind and any further noise.
“Master?”
Nael, still half-asleep, called out in a drowsy voice for Killian.
“Nael.”
“You’re back, Master?”
A smile tugged naturally at his lips. Nael rubbed his eyes and looked around.
When had he fallen asleep?
His once-regular routine was now just a fragment of the past.
These days, he often nodded off right after eating or exchanging only a few words with Killian.
Still, Killian was always there when he opened his eyes.
That made this moment feel a little lonely.
In the times he’d been left alone, all he could think of was Killian.
The longing that had built up seemed to linger—when Killian wasn’t around, he felt strangely unsettled.
Killian slipped under the covers and pulled Nael close with one strong arm.
Lying side by side, their skin touched, and the storm in Nael’s heart instantly calmed.
He gently tapped Nael’s soft rear and kissed the corners of his barely-awake eyes.
“Nael, the baron has officially acknowledged you as his son. Lily too.”
“…”
He had been told it might happen, but he hadn’t believed it—not even a feather’s worth.
Wide-eyed, still groggy, Nael looked up at Killian.
Killian’s firm red eyes softened.
“You won’t need to bow your head to them anymore. I promise. Soon, you’ll become Baron Baker. I don’t care much for such a low title, but still.”
“Master, I don’t really understand.”
“What part? That you’re now recognized as Baron Baker’s son? Or that you’re becoming a baron yourself?”
“My mother was a maid. So… shouldn’t I live like one too?”
“Says who? Is that some kind of law?”
“Yes.”
“I assume the baroness told you that.”
Nael didn’t answer, but Killian could guess.
She had brainwashed a naive child, never hiding her vile intentions.
He could understand the emptiness in the baroness’s heart.
His own mother had once cursed the cold-hearted duke.
Killian had watched helplessly as she suffered until she let go of everything.
He gently stroked the back of Nael’s head.
“I’m going to set right everything that’s happened.”
Killian whispered calmly into his ear. Each softly spoken sentence made Nael nod.
“You were so young then. Don’t blame yourself. Even if you had known, it’s not something you could’ve changed alone.”
“…Yes. But still…”
“It’s foolish to cling to ‘what ifs’ for things already past. Now, Nael, what you must do is clear.”
Nael’s soft hair tickled Killian’s neck.
* * *
