If I hadn’t seen his genuine smile, I would have been deceived.

Usually, the young master is someone without a smile, so I would have interpreted even that small smile as clear evidence of a feeling of liking.

However, having seen the pure white smile, I seemed to know for certain that this smile was ashen.

Yuriel stood in the same place, blankly staring at Cassian.

The young master’s gaze slowly turned back to me.

As the red gaze reached me and looked straight at me, my breath stopped.

Yuriel quickly hid her body behind the curtain.

From outside, even if one tried to look inside, it would only be a shadow, so the young master wouldn’t even imagine it was me… Nevertheless, I felt breathless.

I even had the foolish illusion that he might somehow know it was me.

The tumultuous beating of my heart subsided when the grand sound of wheels rumbled across the earth.

As I barely managed to pull myself away and head to the window, I saw that the knights had finished their preparations and formed ranks.

The once bustling space was now as quiet as could be, as if it had never been otherwise.

The young master seemed to have boarded the carriage, as he had disappeared from view.

The duchess was the same.

The carriage carrying the two of them, befitting of the Blanchet family, disappeared into the distance with elegance and grace.

Around the time that carriage became small, Yuriel stepped outside.

Watching that figure become a dot and disappear, an inexplicable emptiness and sense of futility mixed together and rushed deep into my lungs.

At the same time, tears welled up in Yuriel’s green eyes.

When the hazy feeling dissipated, the carriage, now as small as a dot, had completely disappeared from view.

The interior of the Blanchet carriage was warm and cozy, as if blessing the long-awaited reunion of mother and son.

“Have you heard the news about the development of a new medicine?”

Cassian’s gaze, which had been directed towards Yuriel’s vanishing shadow, slowly turned back.

“Of course.”

The smile that had been plastered across Cassian’s face until just moments ago had disappeared as if it had never been there.

“It seems to be real this time. Seeing as you’ve come in person, Mother.”

It was a remark pointing out the fake articles written several times in the past to attract investors.

“You know how cruel investors can be. If we don’t do things like that, they might all turn their backs on us.”

“I suppose so. I know you’ve been putting in a lot of effort, Mother.”

“What mother wouldn’t devote her energy to her son’s affairs?”

“Is that so?”

A peculiar, decadent smile spread across Cassian’s face.

His gaze, fixed outside the window, seemed both dry and bored.

Elise shuddered as she looked at her son.

The woman who never bowed to anyone outside was the only one to waver like a storm in front of her son.

Cassian was the heir she had raised by sacrificing everything.

The son, the heir to the Blanchet family, explained her reason for existence and became her proud achievement.

As such, when Elise heard that her son had become terminally ill, she felt her life had been ruined.

If she had had two sons, it might have been different, but for her only son to end up like this.

It wouldn’t be strange if the Duke of Derbion suddenly appeared one day with an illegitimate child as the heir.

While she could turn a blind eye to her husband’s affairs, this was a different matter entirely.

She would have to endure all the mockery, ridicule, and gossip from every social figure she had ever encountered.

After her husband’s death, she would become a penniless widow, returning to her maiden family according to imperial law, becoming a burden.

It meant nothing more or less than a failed life.

The reason she had never visited her son who was dying from illness was because of this.

Elise was afraid.

Afraid of seeing the collapse of her life’s work, into which she had invested everything.

All the more so, she frantically supported the development of the new medicine with enormous investments.

Numerous deaths from clinical trials, hush money to bury them, and also…

How much money had been spent?

But in the end, it was a profitable business.

After all, her son would eventually receive treatment, survive, and proudly become the heir.

Becoming an excellent mistress of the house and raising an heir was Elise’s life goal.

It was natural for a child born from her womb to resemble her, but Cassian’s uniquely dry attitude always surpassed Elise’s imagination.

The son who exuded an atmosphere that was hard to believe belonged to a child was the same even as he grew up.

Apart from his height and body, which had grown much taller than the child in her memories, it would not be an exaggeration to say that nothing had changed.

More accurately, it would be correct to say that he boasted an even more formidable aura than in those days.

Despite worrying that he might have become weak in mind as well as body after becoming terminally ill.

Elise interpreted this positively.

Isn’t maintaining a warm smile when necessary and an aloof demeanor usually the proper attitude for the future head of the Blanchet family?

In the slowly moving carriage, Elise and Cassian continued their casual conversation, filling in the gaps of their time apart.

Although the voice was quite dry, the content of the conversation seemed like an affectionate reunion between mother and son.

“Mr. Favrellang says there’s about a 70 percent chance of success.”

Favrellang, the chief researcher at the development center, was a person raised with Blanchet’s support and was often used for personal purposes.

That person’s words had never been wrong.

Recalling this fact, a self-mocking smile spread across Cassian’s lips.

The probability of his life continuing had increased quite a bit.

Compared to that day when he was told he had a 0.01 percent chance of survival.

Many more clinical trial subjects would have been sacrificed just to save him.

Of course, it was none of his concern.

Probably most of them were desperate people who would risk their lives for even a drop of Blanchet’s mercy.

Just like that child he left in Alphonse.

For a moment, the last image of that child stirred in his mind, making his mouth feel dry.

As if an uncomfortable thorn had sprouted.

He deliberately did not promise to give the medicine to that child.

It would be a lie to say he didn’t hope for one last visit.

Even knowing it was just a visit to ask for his birth mother’s medicine, he wanted to act like a fool and do so.

Perhaps he wanted to hear her cry and ask him not to go, just once.

Or maybe he wanted to hear those words telling him to come back alive.

Or was it those words saying she liked him.

Yes. It seems that was it.

It’s ridiculous.

That he wanted to hear that voice again, even though he had finally saved it in the recording stone, able to listen to it over and over.

Did she think she wouldn’t be seen by his eyes if she hid in the shadows to observe him?

There seemed to be something like moisture on that child’s face as it grew smaller.

He knows those tears weren’t for him.

Nevertheless, his rapidly sinking heart became quite joyful.

A gentle smile spread across his lips at the thought that the journey leaving Alphonse and heading to the capital might become quite enjoyable.

Discovering this expression, Elise couldn’t hide her curiosity.

In the time they hadn’t seen each other, a new expression had appeared on her son’s face.

A shadow of doubt suddenly seeped into her mind.

What she had seen in that mansion.

“By the way, it seemed like a young lady was living in that mansion.”

It was a probing question, but packaged as if it wasn’t at all.

Who could Mother have seen?

A young lady living in that mansion, isn’t it too obvious?

Cassian’s head slowly turned towards Elise.

“That’s not possible.”

A calm, almost dry voice resonated quietly in the carriage.

Elise looked at him and raised one eyebrow.

“Is that so?”

The image of the slender figure in a dress she had seen there flashed through Elise’s mind.

Could it be that her son was hiding something? Or was there really no such young lady?

It would make sense if some brazen wench had sneaked in and stolen the mistress’s dress.

“I saw a woman in a dress wandering around there. If she were a maid, she wouldn’t be wearing something like that.”

“You must have been mistaken.”

Cassian’s voice, resolute yet bored, was no different from before.

Only then did Elise’s face break into a satisfied smile.

‘Even if there really was such a girl, my son wouldn’t have shown the slightest interest in such things.’

That was precisely the attitude befitting the young master of Blanchet and the son born from her womb.

If it were the Cassian she knew, he would have certainly acted that way.

She found it amusing that she had momentarily thought to compare him to her husband.

“While you were away, the royal dog was barking so much.”

“By the royal dog… do you mean Uncle?”

“As expected, you’ve been keeping up with the political situation even in Alphonse.”

The true face of high noble families is as blood-stained as the royal family.

Unlike their outwardly noble and beautiful appearance, inside they are like swans, busily moving.

“Earl Alton was spouting such nonsense, saying that the prestige of the Blanchet ducal family had crumbled.”

Earl Alton. Born as the second son of Blanchet, despite his high ambitions, he had to be pushed out of the succession. Uncle has always had many complaints about the eldest son.

Long ago, accused of attempting to assassinate his father on the battlefield where he received his title of count, he could no longer do anything to his father and now turned the direction of his arrow.

Towards me, the heir.

Uncle’s dream was to grasp the title of duke before he entered his eternal rest.

He probably wasn’t trying so hard because he wanted to be buried in a splendid coffin.

Uncle, who had a son around my age, seemed to want to pass on the ducal family to his son even if he died.

How poignant his love for his child was.

I collapsed according to his intentions and received a terminal diagnosis.

Of course, the servant Uncle had planted in the mansion committed suicide after that incident, so finding evidence was impossible.

“Every time I think about what that fellow might have done to you, I can’t help but cry.”

Cassian watched impassively as his mother wiped away her tears.

Looking at her son like this, Elise’s eyes curved with determination.

“But there shouldn’t be any problems now. My son will surely return alive.”

They say God helps those who help themselves.

Would Uncle’s desperation be greater, or would Mother’s desperation be greater?

Or would the desperation of that child who must pray for my well-being from far away be greater?

“Of course, that should be the case.”

It was a night when I became quite curious about whose hand God would choose to take.