Jeremy did not bring back an answer.

There was no reason Hyacinth Hener wouldn’t act the same way towards his aide. She was that kind of woman. Someone who would do anything her way. The flower of Tyche. Her life must have been the easiest, loved as she was.

Ethan stared quietly at the snow-covered field.

When he picked the erentis flower, the woman still loved him dearly. But to commit infidelity…

A person he could never understand. An incomprehensible being.

He didn’t want to interpret it further. Ethan Erentis thought cynically as he fiddled with the reins.

“Your Highness?”

As he returned to Bremlin, he hoped the red-haired woman and her child would both be gone. He hoped Hyacinth Hener had given birth and returned to Tyche with the child whose father was unknown.

He had delayed his journey in that hope…

Ethan hesitated, really hesitated for a long time before grabbing the reins and turning the horse’s head. Towards Bremlin.

“Your Highness?”

The child would be born soon.

It was unlikely, but… he felt he should at least see the child’s face once.

There was no particular reason for this impulse. Really.

It wasn’t because of Hyacinth Hener’s absurd claims. Just, simply, it felt like he should.

Yes. That was all.

“We’re returning.”

* * *

What if they kill the child? During childbirth, I would be out of my mind, and they could kill the child so easily.

What should I do? If the child only resembles me, they might really kill it. What should I do? For the child’s survival, I must pray that it resembles its father.

What should I do, what should I do, what should I do?

Hyacinth clutched her aching belly and thought desperately. She couldn’t give birth alone. She had no experience and didn’t know what to do, so she had to call for a midwife and a doctor, but she hesitated until the very end.

It was because she could never trust Bremlin or the people living here.

Fortunately or unfortunately, when she pulled the cord, it was the butler who responded, not the head maid. That old man, who knew how to make political calculations, didn’t try to kill Hyacinth outright.

He never treated her kindly, but he served her just enough to avoid blame.

As soon as the butler assessed the situation, he ran out and brought the midwife and the attending physician. Both of them wore dissatisfied expressions, but under his stern warning, they began to work diligently.

He understood their dissatisfaction. The butler was also aware of the rampant rumors about the child’s father.

But the newborn life was innocent. Moreover, they couldn’t kill the Duchess, who was cherished by the King, in Bremlin.

While the midwife and the physician busily prepared, the butler glanced at the woman sitting on the bed. Even from the corner of his eye, it was clear that her condition was very poor.

Especially that grotesquely twisted arm. Her thin arm worried him.

He couldn’t ask the woman, who was out of her mind with labor pains, and so he silently fumed. It seemed neither the head maid nor the maids had obeyed the Duke’s order to treat the royal lady with proper respect.

Hyacinth Hener Erentis, who had been a beautifully blossomed flower when she arrived in Bremlin, had withered in just one year. She looked as if she would crumble to dust with a mere touch.

Her face was pale and her skin was dull and lifeless. Regardless of the infidelity she might have committed, she looked pitiful.

“Aaaaah!”

A scream that seemed to tear through the ears.

At the midwife’s urgent command to leave, the butler hurriedly exited the bedroom.

Outside the window, the harsh wind blew. Even he, accustomed to the cold as a northerner, shivered for a moment at the fierce and brutal wind.

…Still, this winter will soon end.

When spring comes, the Duke and Duchess will divorce. The Duchess will return to Tyche with her child. Tyche will regain its usual tranquility, as if the brief turmoil never happened.

The butler admitted he would miss that fleeting vibrancy as he wiped his glasses. When the Duchess arrived, he had hoped she would perform a miracle, bringing spring to this tomb-like winter.

Who could have predicted this ending?

The winter that almost brought spring would be harsher and longer.

“She’s finally giving birth.”

The head maid’s sharp voice made the butler shrug.

“The Duchess is a royal lady. She should have been treated well.”

“…And she committed infidelity. Those red-haired bitches, strutting around on their royal blood. I hate them the most.”

A hostility strong enough to warm the cold air.

After a brief silence, the butler added.

“The Duke ordered us to treat her well. And you disobeyed.”

“You really—!”

“I will report everything to the Duke when he returns.”

“Go ahead.”

The head maid lifted her chin defiantly.

It was a stance that said, ‘Let’s see who wins,’ and the butler could only manage a bitter smile. Inside, the woman’s screams of pain continued endlessly.

The head maid’s eyes twitched slightly, perhaps in empathy for the labor pains, as a woman who had experienced childbirth herself. Her fierce demeanor softened a little.

“Bring the maids.”

The butler took advantage of the moment to advise.

“Even if the Duchess is no longer the mistress here, she is still a guest. Treat her accordingly.”

The head maid, who had been pursing her lips, left with irritated footsteps. Even her long shadow looked displeased. The butler wiped his glasses again.

The maids, reluctantly summoned by the head maid’s order, glanced at each other nervously. The endless screams from inside had become tiresome to their ears. They worried more about their hearing than the mother and child.

The living will live.

That was their mindset.

So when the piercing screams ended and the baby’s cries began, they felt a new annoyance rather than relief.

Now they had to take care of a baby who wasn’t even a Trisel and a mother who had committed such vile acts.

She committed infidelity without even producing an heir. How lightly she must have taken the North. Some of them were secretly harboring knives in their hearts.

“I don’t want to go in.”

Someone mumbled between breaths.

The others silently agreed. They were having trivial conversations about who should go in first when suddenly,

Bang! Clatter!

A loud noise came from inside.

What was that? The maids, huddled together, exchanged curious looks and glanced at the door. They wanted to go in out of curiosity but didn’t want to at the same time.

They could guess what they would see.

The detestable woman and her newborn baby. The messy bed—they would have to clean it up—and the midwife and the doctor.

Bang!

Another loud noise.

Unable to contain her curiosity, one maid cursed slightly and opened the door.

The scene revealed the midwife and the doctor collapsing simultaneously. The doctor rushed over and grabbed the maid by the collar.

“The Duchess committed infidelity!”

The maid looked at the doctor in confusion.

Hadn’t their master clearly declared it? That he had never held his wife. That the Duchess had indeed committed infidelity.

But why…?

“Look! See for yourself!”

The doctor, almost choking the maid, dragged her towards the cradle. The maid tried to escape, but she couldn’t break free from the desperate grip.

No! Don’t look!

Her instincts screamed. They warned that facing the truth would start her own personal hell.

But the moment she finally looked at the newborn,

The maid turned pale and collapsed. The baby’s hair color was so vivid.

That striking color, that hair color, unmistakably…

“What is this commotion?”

A cold voice came from behind.

A chilly baritone. A voice that anyone in Bremlin would have to pay attention to.

The maid turned around in a daze. A man with the exact same hair color as the baby stood at the door.

“Duke…”

Silver hair. A unique color that only the Trisel Duke’s bloodline possessed in the entire kingdom. The Duchess, Hyacinth Hener Erentis,

had given birth to a silver-haired baby.

Ethan Erentis stood frozen, staring down at his son whimpering in the cradle. The baby’s hair was unmistakably silver, even as he cried with a red face.

This can’t be happening.

Ethan denied it.

He couldn’t have held Hyacinth Hener. So why did the baby have silver hair? The exact same color as his own. Why? Why?

I never held you… I never…

That night I couldn’t remember. Did I really hold you?

‘Then who else would I have slept with?’

She had loudly proclaimed her innocence.

‘Why don’t you believe it was you?’

I… so…

‘…It was you.’

The woman, once more noble than anyone, had begged like an animal.

‘It’s true. You know why I came here, why I left Tyche to come here. I know… I know… that you had no feelings for me. But still…’

The truth hit Ethan like a relentless blow to the back of his head, making him dizzy. The moment was so distant and surreal that he couldn’t even move a finger. What should he do? What was this? No. No. The shock kept pounding him, making it impossible to form a coherent sentence. He could only stand there, dazed as if he were about to faint.

Behind him, the sound of wailing and apologies to the Duchess was deafening.

Wait. Apologies…?

The chilling possibility made Ethan Erentis go pale. He rushed to the bed, and the miserable scene sharply clawed at his vision.

A woman fainted with a pale face. The bed beneath her soaked in red. It would have been less shocking if she had fainted from labor, but what truly shocked Ethan was the doctor’s actions.

…The doctor was splinting the woman’s arm.

“A splint?”

“Her arm… was broken.”