Today was one of those days.
The duke stayed inside his room the entire time.
Which meant I stayed inside mine.
I didn't go to the garden. I didn't read near the windows. I didn't even wander the halls like I usually did. Coincidences were dangerous, and my goal was simple:
Avoid my father at all costs.
Still… staying cooped up all day was driving me insane.
I lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling.
…I'm bored.
Then a thought crossed my mind.
My secret place.
A small clearing deep within the garden, hidden behind thick trees and overgrown bushes. No servants went there, not even the gardener. It was where I practiced magic every night, where no one could sense me.
Even Estrella didn't know about it.
Since my father was around, I couldn't use mana openly. If he noticed even the slightest fluctuation, everything would be over. But reading?
Reading was safe.
I carefully grabbed a few books and slipped out, making sure no one saw me.
The deeper parts of the garden were quiet, shaded by tall trees. Leaves rustled softly as I passed through the narrow path I had memorized by heart.
Finally, I reached it.
My place.
I sat down against a tree trunk, exhaled, and opened a book.
Peace.
At least… for now.
Duke of Nocte — POV
The scratching of a quill echoed softly in the room.
The Duke of Nocte sat at his desk, eyes fixed on the parchment before him. Lines of reports were stacked neatly to one side.
Monster activity along the northern border had increased again.
"Another raid near the eastern watchtower," his aide reported calmly. "No civilian casualties, but the damage was significant."
The duke continued writing.
"The beasts are becoming bolder," he said. "Increase patrol rotations. Double the night watch."
"Yes, my lord."
"And the mines?"
Aldred hesitated slightly.
"The diamond mines remain operational, but excavation has slowed. The deeper veins are unstable. If we push further without reinforcement, collapses are inevitable."
The duke paused his writing.
"Then halt expansion," he said. "Stability takes priority over profit."
"Yes, my lord."
Silence returned to the room.
The duke leaned back slightly, his gaze drifting toward the window.
That was when he saw movement.
A small figure... clearly a child slipping through the garden, glancing around nervously before running deeper among the trees.
The duke frowned.
"…Aldred," he said. "Who is that child?"
Aldred followed his gaze.
His face stiffened.
"My lord… that is your son."
The duke said nothing.
He observed the child quietly.
Short silver hair swayed as he ran, strands covering his eyes. Under the sunlight, the color shifted—silver fading into olive green at the edges.
Something twisted in his chest.
A voice echoed in his memory.
Soft. Warm.
"If it's a boy," she had said, one hand resting on her pregnant belly, smiling up at him, "what do you think of this name—"
"My lord?"
The duke blinked.
Aldred was looking at him with concern.
"…It is nothing," the duke said shortly, turning away from the window.
He stood up.
"I will take a walk," he added. "Do not follow."
"My lord—"
"That was an order."
Aldred bowed.
"Yes, my lord."
The duke exited the room, footsteps echoing through the quiet hallway.
His mind felt distant.
Disordered.
As he walked, another memory surfaced... his wife calling his name, laughing softly, the sound slipping through his thoughts like a ghost he could never catch.
"…Hmph."
He clenched his fist.
Without realizing it, his steps slowed.
The duke walked without a clear destination.
His boots pressed softly against the garden path as he passed rows of flowers in full bloom. The air was calm, almost gentle... too gentle for someone like him.
He hadn't stepped into this part of the garden in years.
This place…
It used to be hers.
She loved this garden more than any other place in the estate. She would spend hours here, sleeves rolled up, dirt on her hands, humming softly as she planted flowers herself. She always said that flowers bloomed better when they were grown with care.
The duke slowed his steps.
His eyes fell on a cluster of flowers near the edge of the path.
He stopped.
"…That's impossible."
The flower was shaped like a mountain laurel... delicate petals forming small, elegant clusters. But unlike ordinary laurel, its colors shimmered faintly, as if touched by magic. Pale ivory petals glowed with a soft silver hue, and thin veins of green light ran through them.
In Aetheria, this flower was known as Kalmia.
A rare species.
One that should not grow here.
It only bloomed in specific regions, under very particular conditions. Even trained gardeners struggled to keep it alive.
His wife had been the only one who ever managed to grow it here.
"How…" he muttered.
His gaze sharpened.
"Gardener."
An old man tending nearby nearly jumped out of his skin.
"Y-Yes, my lord!" the gardener hurried over, bowing deeply.
The duke pointed toward the flower.
"Did you plant that?"
The gardener froze.
"…N-No, my lord."
The duke's eyes narrowed.
"Then who did?"
The gardener swallowed hard, sweat forming on his brow.
"I-It was the young master, my lord," he stammered. "He enjoys gardening. One day, those flowers simply… appeared. He tended them himself."
Silence.
"…The young master?" the duke repeated.
"Yes, my lord. I don't know where he found the seeds. I don't even recognize the flower. I only make sure the soil remains healthy."
The duke stared at the gardener for a long moment.
His expression darkened.
"…You may go."
The gardener bowed repeatedly.
"Th-Thank you, my lord."
Only after the duke turned away did the old man finally release a shaky breath.
The duke clenched his jaw.
"Why…" he muttered under his breath.
"Why did it have to be that child?"
He turned sharply and walked away, his pace faster now, his mood clearly soured.
Yet his steps did not lead him back to the manor.
Lost in thought, drowned in memories of laughter and gentle scolding, of a voice that called his name with warmth...
He walked deeper.
The garden thinned.
Trees grew taller.
Before he realized it, the neatly trimmed paths were gone.
"…Tch."
The duke stopped, finally aware of his surroundings.
A small forest.
He frowned, about to turn back
Then he saw it.
An open clearing.
Sunlight filtered through the leaves, illuminating a single figure lying beneath a tree.
A child.
Small.
Silver hair spread against the grass.
The duke's breath caught.
"…What?"
He stood there, unmoving, staring at the child who should not have been here.
His son.
The duke stopped a few steps away.
The child lay beneath the tree, fast asleep, silver bangs falling over his face. His breathing was calm...
The duke noticed the books first.
"…Books?"
He bent down and picked one up.
His brows furrowed.
Military History and Strategic Theories of the Northern Kingdoms.
This wasn't a picture book.
This wasn't something meant for children... let alone a toddler.
"…Absurd."
A child reading this?
Before he could examine it further.
The child stirred.
A small twitch.
Then another.
The duke stiffened.
Slowly, the child's eyes opened.
And their gazes met.
Time seemed to freeze.
The duke's breath caught.
Violet eyes stared back at him... clear, crystalline, reflecting the light like polished gems. There was nervousness in them, yes… but also awareness.
They were familiar.
Too familiar.
"…Those eyes…" the duke murmured.
They were like his own... sharp, piercing... but not blue.
Violet.
The exact shade his wife once had.
The duke stood there, unmoving, his mind momentarily blank.
*******
…Why.
Why is he here?
My heart slammed against my chest.
Of all places... of all times why now?!
The duke.
My father.
Standing right in front of me.
Calm. Calm. Think.
He's just staring.
Why is he staring?!
…Did he see the books?
Crap.
Okay, think. Think of something. Anything.
My mind raced.
Option one: pretend to be asleep again.
Too late.
Option two: cry like a normal child.... I can't
Option three...
Run.
Yes. Run.
That's it.
Before my brain could argue further, my body made the decision for me.
I scrambled to my feet.
And bolted.
******
The duke moved without thinking.
His hand reached out.
"…Wait—"
Too late.
The boy was already running, small legs moving faster than they had any right to. He slipped past the trees and vanished into the garden's deeper paths.
The duke froze.
His hand remained suspended in the air for a brief moment before slowly lowering.
"…Tch."
Something fell near his feet.
A book.
The duke looked down and picked it up.
It was the one the child had been reading earlier.
He stared at the cover in silence.
Military History and Strategic Theories of the Northern Kingdoms.
His grip tightened slightly.
"A child… reading this?"
He turned his head, looking toward the direction the boy had fled.
The rustling of leaves had already faded.
Gone.
The duke exhaled slowly, his expression unreadable.
"…So you run," he murmured.
His gaze lingered on the path for a few seconds longer before he looked back at the book in his hand.
For the first time in years...
Something stirred in his chest.
*********
I didn't stop running until I was back in my room.
I slammed the door shut behind me and leaned against it, panting hard.
…Haaah. Haaah.
Even though I trained my body little by little while studying magic, I was still a child. Worse... this body had been weak since birth. My lungs burned, and my legs felt like jelly.
I slid down and sat on the floor, pressing a hand to my chest.
That was too close.
Way too close.
I took a few deep breaths before finally standing up and locking the door. Only then did I let out a long sigh of relief.
"…Why was he even there?"
That place was supposed to be hidden. My secret spot. No one ever went that deep into the garden.
And yet—he found it.
My plan of avoiding my father had just cracked.
…No. It didn't crack.
It shattered.
I crawled onto my bed and sat there, staring blankly at the wall.
Maybe… I should never go outside again.
Yes. That's it.
No garden. No secret place. No exploring.
I'll just stay here forever.
A perfect plan.
I nodded to myself.
A few hours passed.
Just as I was starting to relax, a knock echoed through the room.
Knock. Knock.
I stiffened.
…Dinner?
At this time, it was usually Estrella bringing food.
I straightened my posture and waited.
The door slowly opened.
"Young master…"
It was Estrella.
But something was wrong.
She wasn't holding a tray.
Her hands were empty, and her expression was tense—nervous, even.
"My lord has requested your presence," she said carefully.
"He wishes to have dinner with you."
…
…
No.
No no no no no no.
I screamed internally.