“A pen with a sharp tip? A fountain pen?”

“Yes!”

“I do have one, but…”

“Please lend it to me!”

Luke, looking puzzled, obediently took out the fountain pen tucked in his shirt front and handed it over.

Bonita, who received it, opened the cap. With a pop sound, the sharp nib was revealed.

The servant watched the young lady with curious eyes.

‘Is she going to draw something?’

The rumor that Bonita was good at drawing had already spread throughout the mansion.

However, rumors were just rumors, and only Mary, who was always by her side, and a few maids had actually seen Bonita drawing.

‘Finally, I’ll be able to see a drawing by the young lady!’

The servant watched with an excited heart, wondering what Bonita would draw on the balloon he had made.

A puppy’s eyes? Nose?

According to Mary, her skills were so impressive that one’s mouth would drop open in surprise. Perhaps the balloon puppy would transform into a real living puppy.

However…

“Ah!”

Seeing Bonita press the fountain pen forcefully against the balloon’s surface, the servant and Luke simultaneously reached out their hands.

The next moment.

With a startling sound, the balloon popped. Luke quickly scooped Bonita up in his arms.

Worried that she might burst into tears from the shock, he asked Bonita, who was staring blankly ahead:

“Bonita, were you surprised? Are you alright?”

“Wow…”

Contrary to his worry, Bonita was only startled by the sound of the balloon popping, not scared.

Still in Luke’s arms, Bonita blinked for a while before her eyes began to sparkle.

“Did you hear that? The sound just now was so loud!”

“…Weren’t you scared?”

Bonita shook her head and wiggled her arms and legs. Luke set Bonita down on the floor.

As soon as her feet touched the ground, Bonita, with an excited expression, approached the floor and picked up the balloon remnants. The servant said with a regretful expression:

“It popped. Should I blow up another one for you, young lady?”

“Yes.”

The servant rummaged through his pocket and pulled out an elongated balloon. Bonita stood next to him, watching with interest as he blew up the balloon.

“Here you go, young lady.”

In just a few minutes, the servant was able to skillfully create a dog-shaped balloon. He handed the balloon to Bonita with a smiling face and said:

“Next time, be careful not to pop it-”

Pop!

Before he could finish his sentence, the balloon popped.

Hearing that sound, Bonita kneaded the balloon remnants in her hand, then looked back at the servant while holding the fountain pen.

‘…Huh?’

A certain assumption flashed through the servant’s mind.

That is, the young lady might not have intended to draw in the first place…

And his thought soon became reality. Bonita’s eyes sparkled as she reached out her hand to him.

“Can you make another one?”

Behind Bonita, Luke’s eyes gleamed intensely. The servant, unable to refuse the young lady’s request, diligently made another balloon.

“Just one more!”

Bonita kept shouting ‘One more time!’

Luke, who should have stopped her, stood beside her clapping and saying, “Our daughter is good at popping balloons too.”

In the end, that day, the servant had to blow up balloons for hours until Bonita was satisfied.

By the time he returned, the difficult floor cleaning was all done.

“Hey, Thomas. Come quickly, it’s time for dinner.”

“Huh? What about work?”

“It’s all finished, isn’t it?”

Hearing his colleague’s words, Thomas, holding his cheeks that were sore from blowing too much, thought:

‘Did I skip work today?’

Come to think of it, blowing up balloons seemed better than bending over and scrubbing the floor.

The young lady was happy too.

‘…This is nice.’

He followed his colleague with light steps, hoping that tomorrow the young lady would ask for balloons to be blown up again.

Pop.

Luke, watching Bonita excitedly popping balloons beside him, smiled with satisfaction.

Bonita was sound asleep on the playroom sofa. Tired from playing so much, she was snoring softly.

Luke gently placed a small blanket over Bonita’s stomach and straightened her body to prevent it from twisting.

After placing a pillow under her head, he left the room. His hand was careful in closing the door, lest Bonita might wake up.

“Your Grace?”

“Shh.”

Luke, meeting Aria’s eyes, said in a low voice.

“You must have something to say too. Follow me.”

Aria quietly nodded and followed him.

‘Hah.’

Luke, listening to the footsteps of the woman behind him, was exasperated to realize he was paying too much attention to her.

It didn’t take long to reach the room. Luke completely dismissed the maid who had been following.

Inside the room, there were only Luke and Aria.

A heavy silence settled.

Luke tried to read Aria’s expression. It was difficult for him to explain what kind of feelings he was experiencing right now.

Betrayal?

No, it shouldn’t be explained that way.

He had been suspicious of Aria from the beginning.

Bewilderment?

This seemed a bit closer to the truth than before. However, it couldn’t be said to perfectly fit the situation.

Luke spoke first.

“So, you said you lost your memory.”

“…”

“Then I suppose you still can’t explain why Bonita grew up not knowing her own birthday for 7 years.”

“That’s…!”

Aria opened her mouth, seemingly upset at the sarcastic accusation.

But she couldn’t continue beyond that. Luke looked down at Aria’s terribly distorted face with an expressionless look.

Was it indignation?

Or anger?

Anxiety from being suspected?

…Sadness?

He couldn’t tell.

A corner of his heart felt uncomfortable.

Luke’s eyes twitched at the strange emotion rising within him.

He was rightfully questioning her as Bonita’s father.

But why was she looking at him with such aggrieved eyes?

He should be the one getting angry and sad. Not her.

“Your Grace, you don’t believe me at all, do you?”

“You mean that implausible excuse that only your memories of raising Bonita have cleanly disappeared?”

“…But it’s the truth.”

Seeing Aria say this, Luke almost grabbed her by the collar. But he didn’t act so rashly.

Instead, he sank deeply into the plush armchair. The sound of the fireplace crackling irregularly could be heard.

After a moment of silence, his boiling insides calmed down a bit. At least not to the point of exploding right away.

“What kind of person was Mom?”

Was it because Bonita showed interest in Elodie?

Maybe so.

Until Bonita asked that question, Luke was about to confront Aria about what was going on.

But thanks to that, he endured for a day. When he had time to think alone, reason prevailed over emotion.

His red eyes scanned Aria, who was hanging her head.

He thought calmly.

He counted the possibilities.

There were four main ones:

1. The claim of memory loss is true, and Aria had been abusing Bonita.

2. The claim of memory loss is true, and Aria had not abused Bonita.

3. The claim of memory loss is a lie, and Aria had abused Bonita.

4. The claim of memory loss is a lie, but Bonita had not been abused.

However, Luke had practically confirmed the second proposition regarding Bonita’s abuse.

Bonita’s reactions were different from her peers. Though she now acts quite like a normal child, at first she was so intimidated she could barely lift her head.

It wasn’t simply that his face was scary or that she was overwhelmed by the scale of the duke’s house she was seeing for the first time.

Moreover, Bonita still revealed fragments of her past in completely unexpected places. With the scars on her body and all, Luke could almost bet that Bonita had grown up in a nearly neglected state.

He crossed out items 2 and 4.

That being the case, the only important thing was whether Aria’s ‘memory loss’ was real or not.

On this point, he couldn’t give a definitive answer.

It seemed implausible that only 7 years of memories would be cleanly erased, but then he would hesitate again when he saw how Aria cherished Bonita.

Aria truly treasured Bonita. It was undeniable.

‘Did her memory really get erased?’

But even if her memory was erased, she was still the same person.

Could someone who easily neglected and abused a child come to love them so much after losing their memory?

It would have been more understandable if it was the opposite. There were many people who disliked ordinary children but adored the child they raised.

But to change like that only after losing the memory of raising the child?

Was that really possible?

It was a problem without an answer.

Moreover, even hypotheses 1 and 3 felt somehow incomplete.

He felt like he was missing something.

It was as if the most important pieces of the puzzle had disappeared entirely.

“Miss Aria.”

He rolled her name on his tongue.

Aria’s blue eyes were staring at him.

The moment he saw those eyes, his desire to threaten or corner her disappeared. An inexplicable intuition raised an alarm.

He tilted his head, crossing his legs in a slanted posture.

“I don’t know what to do with you.”

“…”

He asked.

“Do you love Bonita?”

“Of course!”

Aria cried out impulsively.

“Yes, I suppose so.”

Luke didn’t deny her words. He couldn’t.

“I can see that you love Bonita. That’s not an emotion that can be faked.”

Aria’s expression brightened.

However, Luke had no intention of ending the conversation there.

“Then, if you love her, why on earth.”

“…”

“Did you abuse Bonita?”