"Surely... he doesn't know that my sister faked her death?"
"What do you mean, like Mom?"
For a moment, Milena's heart plummeted.
But she quickly concealed her emotions.
Confusion flickered across her eyes, yet her expression remained calm and indifferent.
The face of an arrogant villainess.
"Mom..."
Mom?
Milena focused entirely on the child's small lips.
Perhaps she was staring too intensely.
"Mom..."
The boy hesitated, unable to continue.
As the silence stretched on, Milena's mouth grew painfully dry.
"People... said she went to heaven..."
"...Ha."
The fist she hadn't realized she'd clenched slowly relaxed.
A sigh of relief escaped her lips.
"That's right. She went to heaven."
Lariat had disappeared for five years, leaving behind a child who had barely learned how to walk.
What would happen if the boy learned the truth before his mother returned?
Even now, he believed he had been abandoned.
If he discovered that his mother had been alive all this time and still chose to leave him behind...
The wound might become irreversible.
Because then he would truly feel abandoned.
"Ash, your mother didn't abandon you."
That much, at least, she could tell him.
The child didn't need to know anything more than that right now.
Milena gently brushed a hand across his fever-warmed cheek.
All she could do was hope that when Lariat finally returned, she would heal the wounds left behind in her son's heart.
The memory of a wicked aunt would eventually fade.
But while she remained by his side, Milena wanted to offer him only kindness.
"Auntie."
Ashdel's pink eyes trembled, as though he had realized something.
"Are you going to leave too?"
"What kind of nonsense is that? Where would I even go?"
Milena lightly pinched his cheek.
Not hard enough to hurt.
The boy pouted.
"But you were packing earlier."
You said you were sick, yet you still noticed that?
When she stared at him in disbelief, Ashdel quickly looked away.
"Auntie, you like Dad, don't you?"
The sudden change of subject was so abrupt it left her speechless.
Children's eyes never lied.
And judging by her behavior until now, anyone could have reached the same conclusion.
A chill ran down her spine.
What kind of image had I shown this child all these years?
Watching his aunt desperately cling to his father for affection...
What had he been thinking?
Her stomach churned.
Unable to answer, she remained silent.
Ashdel seemed to take her silence as confirmation.
"Then... can't you become my mom?"
"Ash."
Milena used the damp cloth in her hand to wipe the cold sweat from his forehead.
Ashdel smiled at the gentle touch.
But when her voice turned serious, his lips began to tremble.
"I'm your aunt."
She spoke firmly, unwilling to give him false hope.
"Huh?"
"I can't become your mother. You already have one. If I tried to take her place, your mom would be sad. Do you understand?"
Perhaps because things weren't going the way he wanted.
His lips pressed tightly together as though he might cry at any moment.
Still, he swallowed his tears and spoke honestly.
"I like you, Auntie."
"I like you too, Ash."
"Then what about Dad?"
Persistent little thing.
Why are you so obsessed with this?
"I don't like him. I hate him."
"Really?"
"Really. Your father already has your mother."
"Right. Dad has Mom, so that means I can have Auntie all to myself, right? I only need Auntie too."
Apparently feeling much better, Ashdel hugged the rabbit doll lying beside him.
Its pink eyes and black fur resembled him remarkably well.
"Mm. Auntie only needs Ash."
Watching him cuddle the stuffed rabbit, Milena suddenly realized something.
This child...
Was still just a baby.
A real baby.
"Now go to sleep. Your fever will get worse if you stay awake."
Milena carefully pulled the blanket over him.
She had wiped away his sweat and changed his clothes, so he was probably much more comfortable now.
She patted his back until his breathing steadied.
Only then did she quietly rise from her seat.
Looking down at the sleeping child, she whispered softly.
"Ashdel... I'm sorry."
She wasn't abandoning him.
She was only returning to where she truly belonged.
Seven-year-old Ashdel Luxen, heir to the Grand Ducal House, let out a deep sigh.
"Toto, I think Auntie's planning to run away too. What should I do?"
Candlelight flickered in his pink eyes.
The same light reflected in the empty glass eyes of the rabbit doll.
"Auntie says she doesn't like Dad anymore."
His voice was cold.
A voice Milena had never heard before.
"Should I just get rid of Dad? But I'm still too young to inherit the Grand Duke's title. What should I do?"
The rabbit doll, naturally, offered no response.
"If Dad goes even crazier, that'll be a problem. Ugh... how annoying."
Ashdel knew better than anyone.
His father's way of thinking wasn't normal.
"I guess I'll just leave together with Auntie when she runs away. Auntie's too soft-hearted to abandon me."
Everyone called Milena a villainess.
But he knew better than anyone how kind she really was.
"When I become Grand Duke, I'll repay her for raising me. Auntie likes money, so she'll be happy. She only has to take care of me until then. Later, I'll take care of her."
Satisfied with his conclusion, Ashdel buried his face in the rabbit's stomach.
The medicine soon dragged him into sleep.
Milena would never know.
That Ashdel still vividly remembered the day Lariat left when he was only two years old.
That she had been the only person who refused to let go of his hand until the very end.
That both then and now...
He could never forget her warmth.
"What did you just say?"
It felt like a bolt of lightning had struck her.
She had intended to quietly organize her affairs and leave.
Instead, disaster descended out of nowhere.
Summoned to the Grand Duke's office, Milena struggled to maintain her composure despite the unbelievable words she had just heard.
"I said the wedding date has been decided."
"Our... wedding?"
"Yes."
"..."
The topic of marriage had come up before.
Even before Lariat's memorial service.
The justification had been simple.
As merely a sister-in-law—and, in practice, a nanny—Milena could not continue living in the castle indefinitely.
So Callion had offered her the title and authority of Grand Duchess.
It was nothing more than an excuse to silence the nobles who constantly pressured him to remarry.
Of course, Milena knew the truth.
The only thing she and Lariat had in common was their pale blonde hair.
And the moment she learned her sister was alive, any attachment she had to this place disappeared.
She didn't want to face Lariat when she returned.
Nor did she want to become entangled in whatever complicated scheme was unfolding.
Callion was obsessed with her sister.
If the truth ever came out, there was no telling what he might do.
That was why she intended to leave as quickly as possible.
And now he had suddenly set a wedding date?
"The High Priest from the Grand Temple happens to be here. We'll exchange vows immediately."
Callion spoke as casually as though he were dealing with a minor administrative task.
If she hadn't learned the truth, she might have screamed with joy.
Now?
She wanted to scream for a completely different reason.
"No, Your Grace. The moment I walked into this room, I realized something. This isn't a discussion. I've already rejected this proposal countless times."
Callion, who had been focused on paperwork, finally looked up.
Normally, he barely looked at her even during conversations.
She had always been someone insignificant to him.
His silver-gray eyes widened slightly in surprise.
"Why?"
You've ignored my refusals for years, and now you're asking why?
A disbelieving laugh escaped her.
"Why? Because no matter how you dress it up, marrying my dead sister's husband is strange."
"...It's what you've always wanted."
"..."
She couldn't argue.
Because it was true.
Milena fell silent.
Even her sharp gaze lost its edge.
"If you're finished talking, leave."
She had clung to him pathetically for years, desperate to be loved.
But that love was over.
I actually loved this man?
It felt as though a spell had been broken.
The feelings were gone.
Only her true self remained.
Now when she looked at him, she felt nothing.
No admiration.
No longing.
Only irritation at dealing with someone so impossible.
"No. I'm not finished."
She met his gaze directly.
"I regret my past actions. And I have no desire to dishonor the dead."
Because Lariat is coming back.
Marriage?
What a joke.
Lariat hadn't even been legally declared dead.
This wasn't marriage.
It was exploitation.
And because she had accepted his treatment all these years, he probably believed he could continue treating her however he pleased.
After all—
The way she had been treated until now had always been terrible.