“Oh my, when on earth did you make all of these?”

Emilia Margaret exclaimed in admiration, examining the knitted clothes she had just taken out of the basket.

Unaccustomed to praise, Rive’s face flushed a soft pink.

“I told you last time, didn’t I? I put what you brought on display, and they sold out in no time. Every pregnant woman in this town bought them—all of them.”

“Really?”

“Of course. Someone even said the other day—with this level of skill, they’d sell well even if you supplied them to a department store in the capital.”

Mrs. Margaret’s eyes sparkled as she turned over the tiny knitted clothes meant for infants.

“Why don’t you try going?”

“…Pardon?”

“To the capital. Just imagine your work being sold at Roman Department Store—doesn’t it make your heart race?”

“I’m not that skilled, ma’am.”

“Nonsense. Your hands are quick, and your sense of color is just lovely.”

As she watched Mrs Margaret gently stroking the baby clothes, Rive’s expression became uncertain.

Although she was happy to receive the offer, the thought of going to the capital did not sit well with her.

Just then, Gus Margaret, who had been serving customers, approached them. He held out a cloth pouch towards Rive.

“Your payment, Liz.”

“This… this much?”

“Didn’t you hear earlier? Everything sold. All of it.”

Holding the heavy pouch in her hands, Rive’s eyes widened.

“I agree with my wife, Liz. Raising Ainer will only get more expensive. There’s no harm in trying.”

“That’s right. Every time I see him, he’s grown again. I can already tell he’ll grow tall.”

“……”

“If you’re worried about going alone, just take Paul with you. As for Ainer, Old Man Marsili will be here—there’s nothing to worry about.”

As she listened to the two of them chatting so casually, Liv forced an awkward smile.

The weight of the pouch in her hands felt very real indeed.

Ainer was bigger than other children his age. He ate well, was never fussy and got on easily with others.

And as he grew, his features became more and more defined.

In fact, it was impossible to deny the resemblance to his father.

He looked unmistakably like him.

Ainer carried the blood of the Blackwood family.

And that terrified her.

If the scattered fragments of the truth were ever brought to light…

Rive knew she would not be able to bear the consequences.

“You’re leaving all of this here, right?”

Mrs Margaret lifted the basket with a playful wink.

Pulling herself back from her wandering thoughts, Rive nodded quickly.

Watching the busy hands arranging the display, she bit down on her lower lip.

***

Winter had set in, bringing biting cold with it.

The sky was clear and cloudless, but the wind was sharp enough to freeze one’s ears.

Paul, who had been looking through Jason’s sketchbook, lifted his head. At some point, Mr Leverd had come up beside him and spoken to him in a low voice.

“It would be best to stop the landscape sketch here and head inside to begin coloring.”

Paul, who had been about to explain the finer details of the child’s drawing, swallowed his words and straightened up.

Jason’s gaze was fixed on Ainer, who was running freely across the snowfield.

“Already? It doesn’t feel like it’s even been thirty minutes.”

“It’s quite cold today. If Jason catches a cold…”

“Ah… right.”

Mr Leverd, the tutor in the household of the Viscount Tayligo, had recommended Paul as an art teacher for Jason Tayligo.

Although only ten years old, Jason carried himself with an unusual quiet composure.

Born frail, he had suffered from frequent illnesses since childhood.

And yet, art class was the one thing he truly loved.

After this conversation, Paul began visiting the estate more often.

Jason admired how Ainer could run and play so freely.

In fact, it was Jason himself who suggested bringing Ainer along to the lessons.

“Then let’s wrap up the outdoor lesson here—”

“Oh my, Jason!”

Mr Leverd, who had been talking to Paul, widened his eyes and reached out.

At some point, the thin, frail boy had stood up and was now walking towards Ainer, who was busy building a snowman.

Caught off guard by the sudden movement, Paul hesitated.

In the blink of an eye, Jason had reached him.

He stopped right in front of Ainer and stood still.

Ainer, who had been smiling proudly at his snowman, looked up as a shadow fell over him.

“Where did you get that?”

“Hm?”

“You mean the gloves you’re wearing.”

Ainer wiggled his small fingers excitedly.

“My mom made them for me herself.”

They were knitted mittens. A little star ornament sewn onto the back of each hand dangled with every movement.

“Do you like them too?”

What happened next took only an instant.

Before Paul and Mr. Leverd—who were already running toward them—could do anything, Jason bent down, snatched the mitten from Ainer’s hand, and shoved him hard when he tried to resist.

“Ainer!”

Ainer fell backwards, landing hard on the ground. He stared up at Jason blankly, who looked down at him with cold, frightening eyes.

Tears welled up in his eyes and spilled down his cheeks.

Jason stared at him for a moment, then lifted the corner of his mouth in a faint smirk. He then turned sharply and walked back the way he had come.

“Ainer! Are you okay? Jason, what on earth do you think you’re doing?”

Paul rushed over and scooped Ainer up into his arms.

Ainer burst into loud sobs.

Passing by Mr. Leverd, who still stood there in shock, Jason cast him a sidelong glance.

“That was something very precious to him.”

“Jason.”

“That’s why I took it. I did well, didn’t I, Teacher?”

“……”

“You told me, didn’t you? That if there’s something I want, I can take it—even if I have to steal it.”

Mr Leverd’s face turned deathly pale.

His hands, clasped neatly in front of him, trembled uncontrollably.

Only after he had walked completely past the teacher, who had lowered his head in shame, did Jason speak again in a light, almost cheerful voice.

“I don’t want to do art lessons anymore. They’re boring.”

The teacher’s face, finally exposed, flushed red with humiliation.

***

“They say Viscount Tayligo had an affair with his son’s tutor.”

“Oh my. How disgraceful.”

“They say keeping a mistress is common enough, but an affair is another matter entirely, isn’t it?”

“It will stain Lady Tayligo’s reputation terribly.”

“That explains why we haven’t seen her at all lately.”

The noblewomen gathered in the tearoom were eagerly exchanging the latest gossip from Southfirth and whispering amongst themselves.

Lady Serna Begin, Baroness of Begin, who had only contributed the occasional nod or polite smile, rested a hand on her noticeably rounded belly and turned her gaze towards the tall window.

Beyond it, the view of the square — with its distant spire clearly visible — was quietly beautiful.

Looking out over the snow-covered rooftops, she couldn’t help but feel resentful at how quickly time seemed to be passing.

“Lady Begin, when did you say your due date was?”

“Oh, three months from now.”

“Oh my, has it already been that long?”

Before long, the conversation drifted into the usual trivial chatter of daily life.

“Oh, that reminds me. I happened to pass by a shop recently, and they were selling the cutest baby clothes. Hand-knitted ones.”

“Ah, I saw those too.”

“You know—the woman who lives with Mr. Paul Burnett, the art teacher for children. I believe they said she was some distant relative. Apparently, she makes them.”

“What?”

The ladies exchanged startled looks.

People in the shopping district had often been curious about her, as her delicate features made her stand out at first glance.

However, she hid herself away so carefully that very few people knew anything about her.

Serna knew about the knitted clothes they were talking about, too.

“Ah, I bought one myself. I thought I might dress my baby in it once the child is born.”

“Oh my, those knitted clothes?”

“How modest your taste is. There must be far more exquisite things in the department stores.”

Serna simply smiled, seemingly unaffected by the veiled mockery.

“Does the price really matter? The baby won’t know the value of the clothes anyway. They were truly beautiful. So delicately made, and the texture was lovely as well.”

“Oh, really? Then I ought to go and have a look myself.”

“Lady Balta, I thought you said your fourth child would be the last. Are you already planning for a fifth?”

Lady Balta blushed with embarrassment as soft laughter rippled around the table.

The warm, cheerful atmosphere lingered.

Conversation drifted lightly from one topic to another, ranging from speculation about who would become this season’s belle of society to all sorts of trivial matters.

Just then, one of the ladies began speaking, holding up a newsletter announcing the Duke of Blackwood’s return to Bloodtail.

— a child passed by outside the wide window.

“Oh my.”

It was Serna who first spotted him.

But the woman beside him reacted even faster.

The conversation fell silent and everyone turned to look at Ainer, who was sitting on Paul Burnett’s shoulders, ice cream in mouth.

“Isn’t it rather strange?”

“……”

“That child… doesn’t he look familiar somehow?”

“Do you think so as well? I felt the same.”

“There’s something about him… a peculiar sense of déjà vu.”

Ainer, his eyes still slightly red, burst into laughter as he chatted with Paul.

Serna, who had been staring at him intently, slowly parted her lips.

“…Blackwood.”

Upon hearing that name, Lady Balta hurriedly picked up the newsletter from the table.

Printed on it was a black-and-white photograph of the Duke of Blackwood, who looked cold and emotionless.

Unable to contain their curiosity, the assembled ladies leaned in to take a look.

The moment they did, gasps escaped their lips all at once.

“My goodness.”

“They look exactly alike.”