The Duke Only Needs My Child (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 40

The guild was as boisterous as ever.

Though it was long past the hour when everyone should have been asleep, the tavern’s atmosphere had only just reached its peak.

Mikhail, standing behind the bar as usual, skillfully mixed a cocktail and handed it to the customer before him.

“Oh, drinks from a man taste awful. Aren’t there any women? A pretty older sister, maybe?”

Just as Mikhail was dealing with the drunken patron, another bartender entered the bar area.

“Mikhail. It’s time for your shift change.”

Though his tone was casual, his eyes held genuine respect when looking at Mikhail—after all, no one in this guild dared place themselves above him.

Mikhail left the bar and headed upstairs to the second floor.

The gentle, affable smile he’d worn before the guests vanished, replaced by a cold glint in his eyes behind his glasses.

As if waiting for him, one of his subordinates approached and handed him a document.

“It’s the personal dossier on the subject you wanted investigated. Since he’s a knight of Delmarque, I had to travel all the way to the Delmarque territory—it took longer than expected.”

“Good work.”

The subordinate bowed deeply and stepped away. Mikhail flipped through the documents he’d received.

The papers concerned the background of “Caligo Elparind,” whom Blair had commissioned for investigation fifteen days prior.

[Abandoned in front of the temple immediately after birth, he was discovered and taken in by a priest, growing up in the orphanage within the temple.

He lived there until around age thirteen, when, upon recommendation from Pope Gerard Lumiel, he joined the Delmarque Knights.

Afterward, he fought alongside Duke Herdin Delmarque in the war…]

Mikhail’s brow slowly furrowed as he read the document with an impassive expression.

‘Why him, of all people?’

Caligo Elparind was entangled with someone Mikhail particularly disliked. Could this truly be mere coincidence?

By the time he finished reading the file, he found himself wondering:

Why was Blair investigating this man?

[This is the timeline separator]

“A banquet?”

Blair, who had been strolling through the garden enjoying the suddenly warmer weather, widened her eyes in surprise at Mason’s unexpected suggestion.

“Yes. There hasn’t been a single banquet held in the past ten years since the late Duchess passed away.”

“Oh…”

“Now that you seem to have adjusted well to life in the ducal household, I thought it might be fitting to host a spring banquet.”

A banquet wasn’t merely a day for enjoyment—it was the occasion when a noble house laid bare everything before outsiders.

Not just their wealth, but also the family’s atmosphere, the relationship between the lord and lady, and even their influence within the Empire, discernible from the guests in attendance.

In short, it was a stage where the entire house revealed itself.

Especially significant was the first banquet held after a new mistress took her place.

It wasn’t just for outsiders; even the household’s retainers used this opportunity to assess and judge their new lady.

Thus, it was an especially daunting prospect for Blair.

‘Come to think of it, I held a banquet around this time in my previous life too.’

As an imperial princess, she’d never needed to prepare a banquet herself.

She wasn’t the type to enjoy loud parties anyway, and major events like birthdays or coming-of-age ceremonies were always arranged by the Imperial Household.

The princess never had to do anything.

Who would dare criticize or gossip about a party prepared by the Imperial Household, or judge the princess herself?

Having lived in such a world, Blair naturally found preparing her first banquet difficult and awkward.

‘Besides… back then, I wasn’t in good health either.’

That banquet had required immense deliberation and effort.

During it, Blair had accidentally overheard some of the household’s retainers disparaging her. Their reasons varied.

That the imperial princess had prepared a banquet thoughtlessly, spending only money; that red wine hadn’t been served but white instead; that she hadn’t arranged a separate event for children…

Those words had torn ruthlessly into Blair’s heart.

More than the criticism of her efforts, what crushed her was the fear that she’d brought shame upon Herdin and the Delmarque name.

But now she understood.

No matter how perfect the banquet might be, they would always find some excuse to speak ill of her.

It wasn’t the banquet they disliked—it was her, the daughter of the Imperial House and Katrina.

Therefore, she now knew there was no need to take their words personally.

“Your budget proposal has successfully carried the ducal household through the past month, so I’m confident you can manage the banquet preparations without strain.”

Seeing Blair hesitate before replying, Mason assumed her reluctance meant she was shrinking back, so he praised her capability.

Blair, sensing the quiet yet sincere encouragement beneath his blunt words, answered calmly.

“Yes, it’s about time we held a banquet.”

Personally, she still harbored regrets about that previous banquet, and this time she wanted to properly address those shortcomings.

“Please gather the records from past banquets for my reference.”

“I’ll have them ready for you to review by tomorrow.”

Just as Blair finished her conversation with Mason, she heard approaching footsteps—it was Melly.

“My lady, Her Imperial Majesty the Dowager Empress has summoned you.”

It was unexpected news.

[This is the timeline separator]

“No news yet?”

At their first private meeting since Blair’s marriage, Katrina’s very first question to her daughter was about pregnancy.

It wasn’t surprising to Blair—her mother had always been this way.

Blair replied calmly.

“No, not yet.”

“You are sharing chambers regularly, I assume?”

“Yes.”

Katrina picked up her teacup, which had cooled sufficiently, and began.

“Men are foolish creatures who see only what’s right before their eyes. They won’t learn caution or restraint until they have a child clinging to their neck.”

The subject of that statement was Herdin.

Having lived as her daughter for twenty years, Blair immediately sensed that Katrina didn’t say such things without reason.

Only then did she grow curious.

What had the two of them discussed during Katrina’s birthday banquet?

“Did something happen?”

“You’ve been meeting regularly with Countess Lorelain lately, haven’t you?”

Blair paused mid-motion, teacup in hand.

She’d never intended to hide the matter—it wasn’t something wrong, merely something that needed to be properly addressed sooner or later.

She simply hadn’t mentioned it because she knew it was a sensitive topic for Katrina.

“You’re even considering hypnosis?”

Knowing that Countess Lorelain hadn’t attempted hypnosis yet meant Katrina was aware of the counseling progress.

And to know such details, she must have planted someone within the ducal household.

“…Did you plant a spy?”

“Of course I did—I worry about you! How could I know whether the Duke treats you poorly or not?”

Katrina didn’t even try to conceal her surveillance of the ducal household. On the contrary, she was proud of it—as always, under the guise of a mother’s love.

The unwavering sincerity in her eyes made Blair’s chest ache even more.

‘If you cared so much about your daughter, why did you stand by and watch while I was isolated in the ducal household in my past life?’

Old resentment, like a chestnut hidden beneath the blankets, suddenly poked out its sharp spines.

Blair swallowed that painful prick and suppressed her emotions.

Katrina set down her emptied teacup and spoke.

“Go tell them to stop. It’s unpleasant—this suspicion toward your own mother.”

“I’m not doubting you. I’m just re-examining parts of that incident that never quite added up.”

“But you’re doubting my testimony!”

Katrina’s voice rose gradually. She squeezed her eyes shut briefly, as if exasperated, then opened them again.

“I’m sick of it. It’s horrifying. How much longer must I be haunted by the ghost of that madwoman who died ten years ago?”

“Mother.”

“What will change even if you dig it all up now? Will that dead woman come back to life?”

“…”

“She’s dead! Driven mad by jealousy toward me—so much so she was prescribed nerve medication—and in her frenzy, she took it out on you and met her end.”

Blair stared silently at Katrina, who visibly shuddered at the mere mention of Esmeralda.

She herself had spent her entire previous life suspected by Herdin and the Delmarque retainers regarding Esmeralda’s death.

Because she understood that pain, she hadn’t wanted to doubt Katrina lightly.

Above all, she was afraid—afraid of suspecting her own mother.

Ten years ago, on that day, Katrina had gone personally to seek Gerard’s help—a woman who never visited anyone unless absolutely necessary, yet she went herself, late at night, solely to save Blair.

Through that incident, Blair had realized: despite always prioritizing Ivan, Katrina was still her mother at heart.

She was the kind of person who would abandon Blair without hesitation if forced to choose between Ivan and her—but in that moment, her desire to save her daughter had been genuine.

Perhaps that was why Blair had clung even more tightly to Katrina’s love afterward.

Still, Mother loves me.

She had genuinely believed that, leaning on that hope and affection.

Even if her mother treated her like a trophy, even if she used her daughter as collateral for her son—surely she wouldn’t have gone so far as to sacrifice her daughter’s life.

But seeing Katrina’s fear—not just reluctance, but outright dread—at Blair regaining her memories, long-suppressed doubts finally sprouted.

“Mother… if that’s truly the truth, then what are you so afraid of?”

Katrina’s eyes, locked onto Blair’s, swirled with conflicting emotions—anger, betrayal, shock, and… fear.

Reading those feelings clearly, Blair added softly,

“Please stop trying to control me, Mother.”

“…”

“If you truly consider me your daughter.”

Determination filled Blair’s eyes as she looked at Katrina—alongside a trace of sorrow.

She was still afraid of what lay beyond the veil of truth.

But this time, she had no intention of running away.