Why did Deborah suddenly see the boy’s face on Zen’s face?

The boy always wore shabby clothes, and remained smaller than Deborah until they parted. He was such a thin and frail child.

But now Zen was wearing a top-quality tailored tuxedo and was a large person, not just in height but in build overall.

He was beautiful, but rather than being pretty like that boy, he was more handsome.

And above all, wasn’t Zen blonde?

While blonde hair can darken with age, brown hair rarely turns blonde.

Such splendid blonde hair couldn’t even be imitated by recently developed hair dyes.

The only similarity should be that they have the same eye color…

‘Or not? Do they look alike?’

Deborah tried to recall the boy’s face. But she couldn’t remember it clearly.

Just seconds ago, Deborah had a vivid memory of the boy’s face, but now the more she tried to remember, the more Zen’s face, right in front of her, came to mind.

Her heart pounded. An unfounded sense of unease gripped her throat.

Deborah, with eyes as black as night focused on Zen, asked:

“You said you were from Astrian, Mr. Baker?”

Surprised by Deborah’s sudden question, Zen paused for a moment before answering slowly.

Like someone enjoying the warmth of a winter fireplace.

“Yes.”

Deborah’s eyes wavered.

‘Look at me. Why am I so surprised by something I already knew?’

Forcing a smile, she faced Zen as he asked:

“Why do you suddenly ask that?”

Deborah quickly thought of a plausible excuse.

“Golden eyes are rare in Grasian. I wondered if it might be different in Astrian.”

Zen chuckled and said:

“It’s not different. I’ve heard golden eyes are rare anywhere in the world. But what about black eyes? I’ve never seen anyone with eyes as black as yours in my life.”

Deborah smiled faintly, bowing her head as she replied:

“I wish mine were a bit lighter in color.”

“Why would you want something common when you have something unique and special?”

Deborah raised her head at the gruff comfort. Zen turned his head abruptly and said:

“So what was that story you were about to tell earlier?”

“Ah. I was going to say that perhaps that child might have grown up as well as Mr. Baker.”

“No way. It would be difficult to grow up like me.”

Zen frowned and scoffed. Deborah narrowed her eyes and said:

“But that child, he was really pretty.”

“It’s not uncommon for a delicate child to grow up strangely.”

“But he wasn’t just ordinarily pretty.”

Finding Deborah’s persistence cute, Zen smiled mischievously and said:

“Well. As you say, if there was a man as handsome as me with golden eyes, he’d be quite famous, but I haven’t heard any such stories.”

“No matter how handsome, it would be unreasonable for him to become famous enough for Mr. Baker to know. That child was a commoner.”

“You don’t seem to understand, but with looks like this, one can’t stay quiet. Even wandering alleyways, he’d become famous.”

At that moment, Deborah’s smile froze.

Zen, who had been smiling with his chin resting on his hand, also stopped smiling. Realizing her mistake, Deborah quickly continued:

“Is that so? Then perhaps, as Mr. Baker says, he might not have grown up handsome enough to cause a stir.”

If Deborah had spoken with a calm smile, Zen would have replied lightly with a smile as well. But now Deborah looked anxious, no, desperate.

“Honestly, that child’s appearance isn’t that important. I just hope that wherever he is, he’s not sick, hasn’t experienced too many hardships, and…”

Deborah spoke wistfully, as if talking to that boy from 10 years ago rather than the Zen in front of her, and then softly smiled.

“I just want him to be happy.”

Deborah wished that the boy from her distant memories would be happy without any worries even at this moment.

Zen quietly smiled self-deprecatingly. Just be happy, she says. Just be happy…

Deborah wouldn’t know.

She wouldn’t know that before meeting her, the boy’s entire world consisted of a drunken mother who hurled abuse and violence, and a dark, narrow room reeking of alcohol.

Even when he went out to see normal people walking about under the blue sky, the boy always felt trapped in that dark room with his drunken mother.

Even in sleep, the voice of his mother cursing the Duke and himself echoed in his ears, but at some point, a different voice began to ring in the boy’s ears.

[Hey! Are you alright?]

Why did they meet again? It could have ended with just one awkward encounter.

[Are you okay?]

But Deborah, still pretty and beautiful, happened to reach out her hand when the boy was at his most miserable.

The boy was embarrassed and upset, rejecting Deborah’s gesture at first, but in the end, Deborah took his hand and ran.

The boy watched in amazement as Deborah’s fine hair fluttered in the wind.

It was so strange to see black hair shining more brilliantly than anything else in the world, he didn’t realize his whole body was in pain, and he didn’t notice his heart pounding as if it would burst from Deborah’s rough breathing in his ears.

Deborah, whom he came to talk with like this, wasn’t just a pretty and kind woman. She was foolishly good.

She could have cursed the boy who ran away just for reaching for her hat as an ungrateful bastard, but she foolishly waited for him every day.

‘Why is she so stubborn? How will she survive in this world like that?’

Zen, who had been watching Deborah while complaining needlessly, was discovered by her.

[It’s been a while! Have you been well? How are your injuries? Are they all healed?]

How his heart fluttered at that face that was simply glad to see him without showing any annoyance.

How ticklish and sweet the conversations that became like a natural daily routine were.

Once, he witnessed Deborah receiving harsh words from a colleague.

Though he held back for fear of causing trouble for Deborah, he couldn’t swallow his anger.

To the boy who angrily told her never to hear such words again, Deborah brought her clear and beautiful face close and said:

[So you held back today?]

For a moment, it felt like his breath would stop. Though Deborah’s body blocked the sunlight, his eyes felt so dazzled they might go blind.

[Is that what’s important right now?] [Hehe.]

Even at the irritation he barely managed to express, Deborah blushed and smiled brightly.

That face was etched in his heart and wouldn’t disappear. It really came to mind at any and all times.

[Someone like you shouldn’t have been born in this world!]

He thought of it even when his mother cursed and kicked him, even when she threw things at him.

[That disgusting blonde hair resembling that man! I can’t stand the sight of it!]

He thought of it even when his mother dyed his blonde hair with cheap shoe polish.

When it rained, his mother, who always became sensitive at such times, locked the boy in a dark room full of mold fearing his despised blonde hair might show through the rain, and even then he thought of it.

‘Do you know that? You probably don’t. You shouldn’t.’

Before meeting Deborah, the boy was miserable every single day without fail.

He despised his mother who committed wrongs out of excessive greed and abused him, Duke Buin who pretended to be a noble aristocrat while refusing to acknowledge the fruit of his own despicable desires, and the world that kept turning without caring about a boy like him.

The brilliant spring illuminating the world, the summer that gave a moment of heat before departing, the autumn preparing for the cold – it all felt like an endless winter.

But after meeting Deborah, spring felt brilliant. The sweat of summer felt bothersome.

Autumn, which had always felt anxious as it heralded winter, no longer felt anxious.

If Deborah had stayed with the boy through his winter, he might have come to love even winter.

But Deborah left. Without saying goodbye, without promise of return.

“Deborah.”

He called her name again, a name he had called countless times before.

“Yes.”

Deborah answered demurely.

Though they had been together for several months now, Zen still couldn’t get used to it.

It was inevitable.

How could he feel at ease after hearing her answer just a few times, when she hadn’t answered no matter how many times he called for 10 years? Even calling her name for a lifetime wouldn’t be enough.

[This is the timeline separator]

Upon returning to the mansion, Duke Buin painfully looked up at the large portrait of the previous Duke Buin hanging on the wall of the central staircase leading from the entrance to the second floor.

Despite depicting an elderly man with white hair and wrinkles, the eyes in the portrait were strikingly similar to Zen’s eyes from earlier today.

Perhaps if he didn’t have a beard, even Margaret would have felt uneasy upon seeing Zen.

“Father. Are, are you alright?”

“Of course, my child. It was just because there were so many people at the party, I’m perfectly fine.”

“If that’s the case, th-that’s a relief…”

To Margaret, who still couldn’t shake off her worry, Duke Buin smiled kindly and said:

“I’m sorry for interrupting your enjoyable time.”

“N-no. Y-you’re more important to me, Father.”

Margaret answered with a delicate smile.

Margaret. Duke Buin’s one and only treasure. Could there be another child as kind as her in this world?

“Don’t worry about me and sleep well.”

“Y-yes. You too, Father.”

As soon as Margaret gently smiled and returned to her room, Duke Buin went alone to the room where portraits were stored.

Shining a light himself as he thoroughly examined the dark room, Duke Buin froze upon discovering a portrait of the previous Duke Buin in his youth.

Brilliant blonde hair, sparkling golden eyes, an elegant and manly face.

A man who looked exactly like Zen Baker, who had greeted him today, was smiling at Duke Buin.

“No…!”

The lamp in Duke Buin’s hand fell straight to the floor. The sound of breaking glass echoed in the dark room.

The small candle rolling on the floor couldn’t illuminate the portrait of the previous Duke hanging high up.

Despite such darkness, Duke Buin seemed to see the face of the previous Duke, no, Zen’s face.

[You said it clearly wasn’t your child. You dismissed such special blonde hair as nothing, telling me not to spout nonsense over mere hair color!]

That woman he had briefly dallied with when his wife was ill. A woman whose name and face he couldn’t remember seemed to be cackling.

[Duke, who pretended to be pure and noble, claiming to love only your wife! Now God will judge you. My child will condemn you and take the place meant for your daughter!]

The woman’s chilling laughter wouldn’t leave his mind.