She wondered briefly if he would ask about the marquis too—but it seemed he had no particular interest in Eldan.

‘Well, maybe he just hates him by default, since he’s Kaelid’s father.’

It was hard to tell how much Zephion truly knew about Reina and Kaelid’s relationship, but he certainly understood something about the Berend family.

That Yeria had married into the household as a second wife, and that it had made Reina and Kaelid step-siblings.

Before long, the carriage came to a stop in front of the main estate.

Zephion stepped down first and held out a hand to help her,
But Reina ignored it and steadied herself with her cane.

“Reina.”

The boy tugged lightly at her arm, showing his displeasure, but this wasn’t the place to indulge him. Drawing attention to themselves—especially from Eldan—would do no good.

“Keep your mouth shut and your head down, Pipi.”

Reina spoke coldly and walked ahead. Perhaps it was the unfamiliarity of the main estate, but Zephion didn’t insist any further.

Every time she came here, the atmosphere always felt heavy—but today, the air felt even more oppressive than usual.

She stopped in front of her mother’s bedchamber and knocked several times.

There was no response.

When she opened the door and stepped inside, she saw a frail woman lying in bed. Reina silently approached and stood beside her.

“Sit down, Reina.”

Zephion easily brought over a heavy chair.

“Thank you.”

He stood quietly a step behind her. Reina gazed at her mother’s face. A body that had already been gaunt now looked even more emaciated. Her pallid complexion left no doubt—she truly was unwell.

As if sensing her daughter’s gaze, Yeria slowly opened her eyes and looked at her.

“…”

As if to prove how futile her expectations had been, her mother said nothing—just as always—despite the illness.

Reina, too, had nothing to say. She already knew that asking if she was okay or offering gentle lies like “you’ll get better soon” would mean nothing now.

Instead, she reached out and took the limp hand lying atop the covers. It felt like the brittle branch of a winter tree.

To Reina, Yeria’s expression actually looked more peaceful than usual. She didn’t know what illness her mother had, but at least it didn’t seem to be causing her much pain—that alone was a relief.

“…You look at peace.”

She let the words fall gently from her lips. Yeria gazed quietly at her daughter.

Now that she was finally about to be released, she seemed almost relieved.

Reina tightened her grip slightly on the fragile hand that looked like it might snap with the slightest pressure.

‘If only you had held on for just a few more years… you would have lived to see the revenge.’

But she swallowed the words.

After a long silence, she slowly turned her head.

“This is Zephion—I’ve mentioned him to you before.”

“You talked about me?”

Zephion asked, sounding slightly surprised.

“He’s still just a child, but in a few more years, he would’ve been grown…”

A faint laugh slipped out. Maybe Yeria had known all along that she wouldn’t live to see Reina’s revenge. Wasn’t that why she never asked her to hold on back then?

Reina quietly looked at the unresponsive woman, then lowered her head.

“If you see Father… please tell him to keep watching over me.”

At those words, it looked as if the woman’s dry lips curved into a slight smile. Almost as if she welcomed the death drawing near.

Reina gently kissed her mother on the forehead. A grand farewell was unnecessary. This was enough.

Both mother and daughter were far too weary to waste energy on emotion just because death was near.

Just as Reina began to rise and let go of her mother’s hand, her mother’s frail fingers suddenly tightened around hers. It wasn’t a strong grip, but Reina could clearly feel her hand being held.

Startled by this unexpected reaction, Reina froze. Yeria’s lips moved faintly.

Was she trying to say something?

Reina quickly leaned down, bringing her ear close.

A barely audible whisper escaped.

“Leave.”

That was all.

Reina remained with her head bowed, waiting for more, but no further sound followed—not even the faintest breath.

She looked quietly at her mother’s face. It was as if all her remaining strength had gone into saying just those two syllables.

Yeria blinked slowly, and nothing more.

“…I’ll think about it.”

Reina gave a slow reply and stood.

She understood perfectly what her mother had meant by leave.

‘Once I’m gone, nothing will be tying you to this place anymore.’

Until now, Reina had never truly been able to leave—because of Yeria.

As a child, she stayed because her mother was here. As she grew up, Yeria became like a hostage—Reina couldn’t bring herself to abandon her.

Yeria must have known she was Reina’s shackle. That’s why she said what she did.

Reina bit her lip hard.

‘But it’s too late now.’

If she had wanted to say that, she should have done so before Reina brought Zephion into her life. Although the burden of being a daughter had been lifted, there was now a boy clinging to her far more tightly.

Nevertheless, Reina could understand why Yeria hadn’t said those words earlier. As long as her mother was alive, Reina could never fully turn her back on her.

When they stepped out of the room, Zephion glanced at her cautiously.

“What did she say?”

“She said she loves me.”

Reina answered calmly. Yeria hadn’t actually spoken the word love, but that single word—leave—carried all the emotion in the world.

Zephion’s lips parted slightly, then he lowered his gaze.

“You and your mother… I think you’re really alike.”

“Yeah”

“Yes. Very much so.”

Reina gave a faint smile. Her mother’s voice—heard for the first time in over ten years—lingered in her ears.

‘Leave…’

It was a choice she had never once considered. Even if Yeria meant it as her final wish, Reina couldn’t bring herself to say she would obey.

She had lived all this time for revenge. And now she was being told to let go of all that hatred?

That was no different from asking her to abandon the very foundation that had kept her alive.

Reina gave a small shake of her head and quickened her pace. She’d seen her mother—now she wanted to leave this place as soon as possible.

But her gait, supported by a cane, was slow. As she descended the stairs, a man appeared below.

“Reina.”

His voice was stiff as he called her name. She looked up to see a face strikingly similar to Kaelid’s—and bowed slightly in greeting.

An awkward silence fell between them. It was only natural—they had barely spoken since she came to the Berend household. Besides, Eldan had always reserved his attention solely for Yeria, so he’d never paid much mind to Reina, the daughter of another man.

“Did Yeria say anything?”

“She didn’t say a word.”

Eldan’s expression tensed ever so slightly.

“So she’s planning to stay silent until the very end.”

He muttered, sounding either frustrated or irritated—it was hard to tell.

Reina gave a small nod and began to move past him, but stopped in her tracks.

“…Is she dying?”

Eldan’s face hardened.

“I won’t let her die.”

It was clear he intended to keep her alive by any means necessary. Reina couldn’t help but wonder—if her mother died, would this man follow her into death? If he really did, she imagined her mother would find that utterly horrifying.

“I’ll be going now.”

She ended the conversation, not wanting to exchange another word. As she took a step forward, Eldan’s gaze shifted to Zephion, who stood a short distance behind her.

“And who are you? I don’t believe I’ve seen you before.”

The boy instinctively started to answer, then quickly shut his mouth.

“He’s a smart child I sometimes bring along.”

Zephion bowed his head low. Reina answered smoothly, without hesitation, and picked up her pace. She silently prayed Eldan wouldn’t notice the golden eyes.

‘This is why I didn’t want to bring him.’

Just as she pressed her lips together, Eldan’s voice rang out.

“Is this the street boy you said you took in?”

It seemed Kaelid had casually offered that explanation at some point. Reina let out a quiet sigh, stopped, and turned back.

“Yes, that’s right. Pipi, say hello. This is the Marquess of Berend.”

“Hello.”

Zephion said politely with a bow.

A faint hint of suspicion flickered across Eldan’s face. It was as if he found the boy oddly familiar—like he’d seen him somewhere before but couldn’t place him.

“Let’s go.”