It was a bitter, candid admission—one whose full meaning only she understood.

She had spent several happy years with Zephion. Nothing momentous had happened, yet everything felt easy. She loved napping in the garden with him, thought it adorable when he trailed after her like a chick, even enjoyed his constant chirping at her side, his bright smile, and his sweet-tooth for pastries—every last bit of it.

Once he became an adult, all of that would vanish in a heartbeat.

Remembering how little time remained made her spirit sink. She had prepared herself to accept it, yet whenever Zephion came to her without hesitation she couldn’t stop wishing these days would last a little longer.

“No matter what you say, Reina, I’m going to grow up.”

“I know.”

Time marches on no matter how they struggle. Reina answered calmly and turned her gaze away from him. Thinking a short stroll might help, she headed toward the garden—only to see a servant running toward them in the distance.

Something urgent? She meant to step aside, but to her surprise the servant stopped right in front of her, panting hard as he sucked in a breath and exhaled.

“M-my lady…”

“…Is there something you need to tell me?”

“Your mother is very ill, my lady.”

Rather than panicking, Reina grew even calmer at those words.

“She’s ill? What kind of illness?”

“The master only said it was a sickness… nothing more.”

“How long has she been sick?”

She frowned. If it were just a recent illness, the servant wouldn’t have come running like this. It clearly wasn’t a matter of a day or two.

So they’d been hiding it from her all this time? Reina clenched her hand tightly. She felt Zephion gently wrap his hand over hers.

“…Since a month ago…”

The servant hesitated before finally confessing the truth. When he saw her face harden, he began to mutter in a hurry, almost like an excuse.

“The master told us not to inform you. He said she would get better soon, and… and…”

“You’re telling me now because she’s not going to get better. Is that what this means?”

“I—I’m not sure, my lady.”

She closed her eyes tightly, then opened them again, catching the way he avoided her gaze. He may not have had all the details, but one thing was clear—it wasn’t a good sign.

At worst, it meant she might pass away at any moment. Even in the best-case scenario, there had likely been no improvement.

“Where is the marquis now?”

“He’s at the main estate.”

“Tell him I’ll be coming shortly.”

“Yes, my lady.”

Reina nodded slightly and watched the servant’s retreating figure in silence. Zephion hesitated before bowing his head slightly to meet her gaze.

“…You mean your mother is sick, right?”

“Yes.”

“She’ll be okay.”

She looked at the boy’s face as he offered the kind of rehearsed comfort one might give out of habit.

“Yeah, she’ll be fine.”

She replied simply, even though she already knew that wasn’t true. There was no need to burden Zephion with that weight too.

‘There’s not much time left, is there…’

Truthfully, Reina didn’t have many memories of her mother.

After becoming Countess of the Berend family, her mother had moved to a separate estate, and they had lived apart ever since. She would occasionally visit, simply because her mother was the only remaining blood relative—but that was all.

Nothing special ever happened between them. Even during those brief visits, Reina was the only one who ever spoke.

After her father died, her mother did her best to hold on—until she lost everything to the former countess’s curse.

‘It’s a miracle she’s lived this long at all.’

Nights spent in the arms of the man who killed her husband.
Her daughter taken away by that man’s son.
And the curse that cost her everything—even her life.

Reina couldn’t understand how she had endured, especially since she wasn’t like Reina—burning with the desire for revenge.

She had chosen to run away by letting go of everything. What had kept her going all this time? What had she been thinking as the days passed her by?

‘Maybe I should’ve told her about my plan for revenge.’

But she had never said a word—not clearly, at least—afraid the secret might slip out. Maybe if her mother had known, it would’ve given her some small measure of comfort.

Maybe the thought that someone would one day kill the Berend family and set them free could’ve given her the strength to endure just a little longer.

When Reina told them to prepare the carriage, Zephion, who had been silently standing beside her, suddenly spoke up.

“I want to come too.”

“Why would you go there?”

“She’s your mother.”

“There’s no reason for you to meet her.”

“But I want to see her.”

“Pipi, don’t be stubborn.”

“You said she’s very sick.”

“That’s exactly why there’s no need to see her.”

When Reina reached for her cane with her other hand, the boy snatched it from her.

“I want to greet her too.”

“Haa… Even if you meet her, it won’t mean anything.”

“Why wouldn’t it?”

“She won’t care about you.”

“And how can you decide that?”

“Pipi!”

She frowned and called his name in a scolding tone, but Zephion—older now—didn’t even flinch.

“I’m coming too.”

“I said no.”

“I’ve never been to the main estate either.”

“That’s exactly why you can’t!”

She snapped, her voice sharp with irritation. Only then did Zephion seem a little startled, his eyes widening.

“Give me the cane.”

“…Are you angry?”

“Zephion, don’t even think about going to the main estate.”

“Why not? Kaelid will be there too, won’t he?”

He gripped the cane tightly, his voice dropping lower. Reina pressed her fingertips lightly against her throbbing forehead.

“I’m just going to see my mother.”

“Then I’ll just see your mother too and come back.”

His golden eyes burned with stubborn resolve, and Reina let out a sigh. More than anything, it was the possibility of him running into Kaelid that seemed to trouble him most.

At least he never showed this kind of behavior in front of that man—that was a small relief.

Reina didn’t back down and met his gaze directly.

There was a chance they might run into Eldan at the main estate. She doubted the man would take an interest in Zephion, but there was always a possibility.

He might recognize those golden eyes. And if Zephion gave his name, Eldan could recall hearing it somewhere before.

As if it weren’t bad enough that the Marchioness of Baltgar had kept the boy alive—if Eldan found out that he was raised in the Berend household, it was obvious how he would react.

He’d try to kill him, of course.

‘Zephion’s still too young.’

Yes, he was skilled with a sword and had learned much—but he was still a child. She couldn’t tell him the truth yet, nor send him to the princess.

“It’s because I’m afraid you might run into the marquis.”

“What’s wrong with meeting him?”

“That man is…”

Her lips parted, but no suitable excuse came to mind. She had kept a calm face in front of the servant, but the news of her mother’s illness had clearly left her shaken. The fact that her mind wasn’t working the way it usually did was proof enough.

“That man is…”

Reina frowned and ran a hand down her face instead of finishing her sentence. When she saw the boy’s persistently stubborn gaze, she let out a long sigh.

“…Fine. Let’s go.”

Zephion beamed, a smug little smile crossing his face like he’d won.

“But there’s a condition.”

“What is it?”

“Don’t even make eye contact with the marquis. And don’t answer any of his questions.”

“Why not?”

“If you can’t promise that, just stay here.”

“I can! I promise I can do it!”

Suppressing her unease, Reina climbed into the carriage. Zephion quickly slipped in beside her.

The carriage began rolling slowly toward the main estate.

“Reina.”

“Yeah?”

“What kind of person is your mother?”

She didn’t know how to answer. She’d never had much reason—or chance—to talk about her mother. Besides, how was she supposed to describe someone who hadn’t spoken a word in over ten years?

After Countess Yeria lost her voice following the death of the previous count, she hadn’t shown a single trace of emotion.

“She’s… quiet.”

Reina gave a short reply and turned her gaze to the window.
Sensing that Reina didn’t want to talk further, Zephion fell silent.