Chapter 1

It was a common and typical cliché of a romance novel.  

A man and a woman meet at the Founding Festival Ball, swept up in the atmosphere, and share a night of passion.  

The man turns out to be the youngest Sword Master in the Empire and the head of a powerful ducal family, while the woman is merely the neglected illegitimate daughter of a mediocre count’s household.  

And then, a child is conceived between them.  

The Duke willingly takes the illegitimate daughter of the Count as his wife, as she is the mother of his child.  

The story’s conclusion is obvious.  

“They lived happily ever after. The end.”  

It was supposed to be a perfect romance novel cliché, right up until the ending…  

***

Outside the window, the festive atmosphere was palpable.  

In stark contrast to the lively noise outside, which incessantly rang in Euphrasia’s ears, an awkward silence filled the drawing room of the Duke’s residence.  

The excitement of the Imperial citizens, who had poured into the streets, was so overwhelming that even tightly closed windows couldn’t block it out.  

It was all thanks to the news of the return of Eric Herrington, the hero of the Lockvela Empire, who had brought an end to the prolonged border conflict with a decisive victory in just over a year.  

However, the hero of the festival himself, Duke Eric Herrington, sat in the awkwardly silent drawing room, staring at Euphrasia with his blue eyes, as if the commotion outside had nothing to do with him.  

Tap, tap. 

A faint pain pricked Euphrasia’s shoulder blade. It was a non-verbal cue from her stepmother, Devonie, who sat beside her.  

‘Say something! How long do you expect me to carry the conversation alone?’  

The intent behind Devonie’s pointed gesture was clear.  

“……”  

But instead of meeting her stepmother’s expectations, Euphrasia simply bowed her head, looking at the child cradled in her arms.  

“Of course, as a filthy illegitimate child, you’d recklessly throw yourself around and end up pregnant without even knowing whose seed it is. I suppose that’s something you inherited from your mother.”  

Devonie’s sneering words, filled with venom, were still vivid in Euphrasia’s memory. She had mockingly laughed when told the child was the Duke’s.  

But the moment she saw the child’s eyes, Devonie’s attitude changed completely.  

In the Lockvela Empire, deep, oceanic blue eyes were unique to the Herrington Ducal family’s bloodline.  

As Euphrasia remained indifferent, Devonie frowned slightly before quickly adjusting her expression, seemingly aware of Eric’s presence. She forced a bright smile.  

“Look at our Louis. His tightly closed lips, his sharp nose, and most of all, those striking blue eyes! He’s truly a spitting image of you, Duke—a strong heir, don’t you think?”  

Devonie had already spent a good amount of time lavishing praise on Eric’s heroic achievements, bordering on flattery.  

Yet, Eric showed no reaction whatsoever, to an almost excessive degree.  

It was only then that Devonie realized her mistake.  

Perhaps recounting his battlefield accomplishments to a war hero who had just returned home only added to his fatigue.  

“Louis seems to be staring intently at you, Duke. He’s so clever, isn’t he? It’s as if he already recognizes his father.”  

Euphrasia, sitting stiffly like a wooden doll, was of no help at all.  

Devonie couldn’t fathom how Euphrasia could remain so indifferent when her own life—and by extension, the future of the Count Olden family—was at stake.  

Abandoning any hope in the illegitimate daughter, Devonie decided to state her purpose directly.  

Eric, who had remained silent until now, finally moved his lips and turned his gaze toward Louis.  

“So, I have a child. I never even considered such a possibility.”  

Rubbing his chin with a troubled expression, Eric let out a faint chuckle and looked at Euphrasia.  

“I understand now what you want. You wish for me to take responsibility for both the child and yourself, correct?”  

Devonie’s face lit up with a triumphant smile, having finally achieved her goal.  

Her intentions were clear—to make Euphrasia the lady of the house of the Herrington Ducal family and elevate the status of the mediocre Count Olden family in one fell swoop.  

The finish line was within reach.  

Euphrasia, noticing her stepmother’s barely-contained excitement, let out a small sigh.  

The events that would unfold next played vividly in her mind.  

She had experienced it all before, in a past life.  

As soon as Eric finished speaking, her past self had ended up staying at the Herrington Ducal residence with Louis.  

The time it took for the marriage to proceed after that was only a matter of days.  

“Our family’s future depends on you, Euphrasia. You must secure your place in the Herrington Ducal family so your brother can thrive in the Knight Order.”  

Devonie’s voice had been gentle as she left Euphrasia and Louis behind at the Herrington estate. Euphrasia had been moved by what she thought was genuine affection from her stepmother.  

She had never expected the kind of love where a stepmother would embrace an illegitimate child with open arms.  

After her father, Count Olden, passed away from illness, and her stepmother Devonie took over as the acting Countess, Euphrasia had lived as though she were dead, quietly fading into the background.  

So, when Devonie finally acknowledged her as a true member of the family, Euphrasia felt a little elated.  

The result?  

‘Dead. On the first night of my marriage.’  

After the wedding, she had waited in the bridal chamber with Louis.  

For some reason, Eric’s arrival was delayed.  

Occasionally, faint footsteps and urgent shouts could be heard outside the closed chamber door.  

‘What’s going on?’  

Curious, but unable to act as the newlywed lady of the house of the ducal family, Euphrasia could do nothing.  

A foreboding sense of dread crept down her spine.  

‘It’s nothing, right? It’s just the first night… Maybe I’m being overly sensitive.’  

She tried to calm her racing thoughts and took a sip of the wine before her.  

“Gasp, urgh!”  

By the time she realized the liquid was poisoned, it was too late. The burning pain spread through her insides, consuming her body.  

Even as she writhed on the floor in agony, Euphrasia couldn’t comprehend the situation.  

How could a drink laced with poison be placed in the bridal chamber of the Herrington Ducal family, known for its security rivaling that of the Imperial Palace?  

“Urgh… ah…”  

Her breathing grew labored, her consciousness dimmed.  

“Waaah! Waaah!”  

At that moment, Louis, who had been lying quietly on the bed, began wailing and thrashing about. It was as if he instinctively sensed what was happening to his mother.  

“Baby… it’s okay… urgh…”  

Even as her consciousness faded, Euphrasia reached out to comfort her child, but her hand never made it.  

‘Louis… my poor baby… I can’t leave you like this…’  

She knew better than anyone how cruel it was for a child to grow up without a mother.  

She had vowed never to let her own child experience such pain.  

She wanted to give Louis all the happiness the world had to offer, to show him the most selfless and profound maternal love.  

‘I don’t want to die… I can’t leave my baby like this… I can’t die…’  

The desire to live surged within her.  

But all she could do was twitch her fingers weakly toward her child.  

As fleeting moments passed and even the faintest tremor in her eyes ceased, the only image left in her mind was Louis’ tear-streaked face.  

It was the lingering regret of life she couldn’t let go of, even until the end.  

***

She thought that everything was ove

She opened her eyes again.  

Before she could even grasp reality, she had been dragged by Devonie to visit the Herrington Ducal family.  

Lost in brief recollection, Euphrasia gently embraced Louis, who was nestled in her arms.  

“Uh-uhng…”  

Perhaps drowsiness had overtaken him from staying still in her embrace. Louis yawned softly, wiggled his tiny hands, and closed his eyes as he snuggled closer to her.  

Feeling the familiar warmth of her child, Euphrasia felt as though tears might spill from her eyes.  

She had returned to the past, to the time before her marriage to him.  

The absurd reality was finally beginning to sink in.  

Relief and firm determination surged over her all at once.  

Euphrasia, having steadied her heart, raised her head to look at Eric, who sat across from her.  

‘I should have realized it sooner.’  

In the past, she had never given much thought to why he had agreed to marry her.  

The day after their night together, Euphrasia had confessed her status and situation to Eric. He had listened with a serious expression and reassured her with a single word.  

“I don’t care.”  

Even when he had suddenly left for the battlefield, Euphrasia had simply waited.  

She believed that once he returned, she would tell him about the child, and naturally, they would marry.  

She had wanted to give her child the “perfect and ordinary” family she herself had never had. In her mind, marriage to him was the only option.  

Even though it had been just one night between them…  

‘I thought, at the very least, we had some mutual affection.’  

But the moment she drank the poison in the bridal chamber of the Duke’s residence, she understood.  

What Eric truly wanted, perhaps, was only…  

‘An heir to carry on the family line. That’s all.’  

The Herrington Ducal family was known for its rarity of offspring.  

Eric himself was the only child born to the previous Duke and Duchess, after more than ten years of marriage.  

The previous Duke, and the one before him, had also been sole heirs without siblings.  

By marrying Euphrasia, Eric had secured the precious next heir to the ducal family. Once she had fulfilled her purpose, discarding her might have seemed like the natural next step.  

After all, unless it was Eric himself, no one else could have arranged for poison to be placed in the bridal chamber.  

‘I can’t let things unfold the same way as before.’  

Resolving her thoughts, Euphrasia slowly met Eric’s blue gaze.  

“Your Grace.”  

She was relieved that her voice didn’t tremble. Swallowing dryly, Euphrasia continued with determination.  

“I don’t need a father for my child.”  

So—  

“Just provide child support.”  

As much as possible.  

She added the widest smile she could muster for good measure.