Chapter 11

Marina often said that Henry reminded her of Werner in his younger days. Though Henry was slightly taller, his facial features and overall demeanor were strikingly similar to Werner, and she had made a fuss about it more than once.

He didn’t dislike being told he resembled his father.

In fact, he was grateful for it. After all, it was partly thanks to his appearance that he had managed to gain his father’s favor and push aside his half-brother.

“You filthy worm, who should’ve died as a beggar on the streets, dare to forget your place and let your greed reach the heavens.”

Richelle glared at Henry as if looking at her mortal enemy, spitting venomous words without pause. Every word that escaped her crimson lips seemed sharpened, as if she had come all this way solely to torment him.

There was some truth in her words. If the Leonard family hadn’t taken him in, Henry might have wandered the streets, living the life of a vagabond. The fact that he had become a distinguished knight and earned the King’s favor was, in some ways, thanks to Richelle’s sacrifice. She had been forced to accept her husband’s illegitimate child as her own, and Henry didn’t entirely fail to understand her resentment.

Still, there were moments when her blind rage felt unfair. It wasn’t as if he had chosen his parents. Yet Richelle raged at him as though it were his fault that Werner had betrayed her with another woman.

There had even been a time when she spat in his face. Disgusted by the reflection of herself in his eyes, she had kicked young Henry, who barely reached her knees. That moment remained vivid in his memory. Richelle likely believed he had forgotten those incidents, but while the one who inflicted the wounds might forget, the one who received them never could.

Henry’s mother had been a dancer. A woman of the lowest social class, she wandered from place to place, dancing as she pleased and scraping by on meager earnings. But she was someone who didn’t dwell on status or power. She had a cheerful personality, grateful for each day and finding joy in the simplest things.

It was perhaps inevitable that Werner would fall for her free-spirited nature and lively appearance. His loveless marriage to a woman he didn’t want had been eating away at him. Exhausted by Richelle’s endless greed and vanity, Werner found himself suffocating. When he happened upon the dancer performing on the street, he couldn’t help but be drawn to her.

It had lasted only a single night.

Werner had shared a bed with a woman whose name he didn’t even know.

Perhaps he had wanted to escape from the burdens that bound him. The dancer’s carefree existence may have seemed like a gateway to freedom from his stifling life.

But that was the end of it.

The impulsive night of passion went no further. It was nothing more than a fleeting escape. Werner returned to his daily life as if it had never happened, believing that forgetting the dancer would be a way to atone for his betrayal of his wife.

Time passed, and Werner completely forgot about the dancer. But five years later, one late night, someone knocked urgently on the castle gates, shattering the peace of the Leonard household. A shabbily dressed woman claimed to have brought the Marquis of Leonard’s son, plunging the household into chaos.

That was the beginning of Henry’s nightmare. The days of happiness, filled with his mother’s love despite their poverty, were gone forever. All that remained for the young boy were the scorn of his half-brother and Richelle’s hatred.

“If it weren’t for me, the Leonard family would have had to relinquish its title.”

Henry could have ignored her. The more he engaged, the more Richelle’s anger flared.

“There was no alternative but me, which is why Father’s will designated me as the heir. Didn’t you agree to it as well?”

“What?”

“If anything, you should be thanking me for preserving the family line. Mother.”

Their gazes clashed, neither willing to back down. The maids standing in the corners of the drawing room, waiting for orders, watched the tense confrontation with nervous glances.

Richelle bit her lip so hard it seemed it might bleed. Her expression made it clear she wanted nothing more than to kill the man before her.

Of course, Richelle had a son of her own. That Werner had passed the title to Henry, rather than her legitimate firstborn, was a testament to her son’s inadequacy.

“How is my brother doing?”

This time, it was Henry who smirked. He raised one corner of his lips in a mocking smile and looked Richelle up and down, his gaze dripping with contempt. When Henry inquired about “my brother,” Richelle clamped her lips shut, as if struck dumb.

The rumors that had circulated in high society about Henry were actually about his “brother.” The grotesque appearance attributed to Henry was, in fact, his half-brother’s story.

As a child, the man had suffered severe burns to his face. Though it was clearly due to Richelle’s negligence, she refused to admit fault. Instead, she blamed the nearby maids, beating them and driving them out of the castle.

After years of treatment, the man recovered enough to eat and sleep without issue. However, his scarred face and one burned hand could never be restored. Perhaps due to the trauma, he behaved and spoke like a child, even as an adult. His disfigured face, combined with his childlike mannerisms, frightened the servants, who fled at the sight of him. He resembled a monster more than a man.

Had he not been injured, had he grown up whole and capable, Werner might never have accepted Henry. Desperate for an heir, Werner must have seen Henry as a beacon of hope.

And how could he not adore a child who resembled him so closely? Werner had shielded Henry from Richelle’s torment, protecting him as best he could.

“…No matter what you achieve, filthy blood runs through your veins. The blood of a lowly wretch.”

Realizing she couldn’t provoke Henry, Richelle shifted her target. Her words now seemed aimed at Henry’s mother, and for the first time, his calm demeanor began to crack.

“What a pitiful life you lead. A half-blood, with a half-inheritance. No matter how hard you struggle, you’ll always be a half-rate knight.”

After Werner’s death, his will was revealed. It was no surprise that Henry was named the heir, so the contents of the will didn’t initially seem noteworthy. But Henry was startled to learn of a clause stating that he must produce an heir to fully inherit the title and estate. The deadline was his twenty-fifth birthday, leaving him little time and filling him with urgency.

When Catherine appeared, Henry couldn’t let her go.

Catherine had boldly proposed a deal, promising to bear him an heir. When he asked what she wanted in return, she replied that all she desired was freedom.

She wanted freedom, and he wanted an heir.

By Henry’s twenty-fifth birthday, Catherine was to bear him a son. Now, only one year remained.

“Were you so desperate that you resorted to a sham marriage? Drooling over an inheritance that isn’t even yours—how pathetic.”

“It’s not yours either.”

Henry’s uncharacteristic defiance left Richelle taken aback. Her face flushed red as she struggled to find a retort.

But their tense standoff was abruptly interrupted by Catherine’s unexpected arrival.

“Ah, we have a guest?”

Henry frowned as he turned to see Catherine. He had deliberately sent her to the city to avoid a confrontation with Richelle, but she had returned sooner than expected. Nothing good could come from Catherine meeting Richelle. While Henry was accustomed to Richelle’s venom, Catherine, who appeared so fragile, would be devastated by her cruelty. Henry quickly turned, intending to usher Catherine out of the drawing room.

“You’re not going to introduce your wife to your mother?”

Richelle grabbed Henry, preventing him from leaving. She had no intention of letting him have his way. Her true desire was to hurt everyone connected to him.

“Mother?”

Catherine looked up at Henry in confusion. Not wanting to divulge his complicated family history, Henry had told her that both his parents were deceased. As Catherine tilted her head, silently questioning him, Henry sighed deeply and licked his lips.

“Allow me to introduce you, Mother. This is my wife, Catherine.”

Reluctantly, Henry introduced Catherine to Richelle, silently praying that Richelle wouldn’t use her venomous tongue to wound her.

“Is she too stupid to introduce herself? Does she need someone to speak for her to say hello?”

Richelle crossed her arms and raised her chin, determined to trample on Catherine since she hadn’t succeeded in fully breaking Henry.