The Ghost Lady Of The Duke's Family (20 Chapters Left to Complete) - Chapter 10

It was around the time dawn had brightened enough for the world outside the window to grow dimly visible.

Aeli’s mind was utterly tangled, so much so that she couldn’t even recall what possessed her to bid the child a good night the previous evening.

She knew this wasn’t right—yet she’d gone ahead and made a promise she couldn’t possibly keep.

“This is a problem too… Sigh.”

But the real issue lay elsewhere.

Having spent the entire pre-dawn hours desperately trying to gather her emotions, it struck her suddenly just as daybreak approached.

It was wonderful that the child could use magic. The talent to independently master and refine something never formally taught was truly a blessing.

…Unless the child wasn’t of Rattleleaf blood.

[What will our child grow up to be?] […Worrying about that already, when they’re not even born yet?] [Well, just wondering. You’re a swordsman, and I’m a mage.]

If they have talent, maybe they’ll become a battlemage—though, of course, only if the child wants to.

Leaning back against Lutis on the chaise, Aeli spoke in a casual tone, chewing on a piece of apple he’d just handed her.

Lutis, hearing her words, gave her a look as if he’d heard enough nonsense and asked,

“What are you even saying? Obviously, they’ll be a swordsman.”

“What? You were the one lecturing me earlier—don’t go deciding the kid’s career before they’re even born!”

“It’s not about that. If I had to choose between the two, it obviously can’t be a mage.”

“That’s literally the same thing!”

“How is that the same? Everyone in the Rattleleaf line has always been utterly incapable of using magic.”

“Right—magic! …Wait, what?”

At his next words, Aeli half sat up from her leaning position and turned to face him, freezing mid-motion.

Meeting her gaze from close proximity, Lutis stared at her incredulously.

“You seriously didn’t know?”

“…….”

“In the whole Empire, who doesn’t know that? Actually—didn’t we even talk about it just recently at the Count’s manor? Weren’t the Count and Countess lamenting about it?”

“I—I do know!”

“When was that mentioned?”

Squinting slightly, Lutis opened his mouth—and Aeli quickly averted her eyes before replying,

…During teatime in the drawing room?

Thwack!

At the sharp, clear sound echoing through the room, Aeli clutched her forehead and glared at Lutis.

“Ow! Why’d you hit me?!”

“…Er, did it hurt? I tapped gently…. S-sorry. Let me see—does it hurt a lot? Is it swollen…? It looks a bit red… Should I call the personal physician? Just a moment.”

Despite having delivered the flick himself, Lutis flustered like a rain-soaked puppy at Aeli’s single complaint.

He even stroked her forehead as carefully as if handling a delicate, fragile handmade ornament.

His jumbled words betrayed just how flustered he truly was. In truth, the flick had sounded louder than it actually hurt—surprisingly painless, really.

That, too, was undoubtedly intentional on Lutis’s part.

Yet seeing Lutis panic so excessively made Aeli calm down enough to reassure him.

“No… it’s not that bad. I just got frustrated, that’s all. I’m fine.”

“…Still, let’s get it checked by the physician, just in case.”

Though it didn’t seem particularly successful,

Lutis insisted on summoning the personal physician anyway and had ointment applied to a wound that didn’t even exist yet. Then he murmured quietly,

“But….”

“Hmm?”

“It was in the dining room, not the drawing room. Not teatime—during the meal.”

“…Hey! Are you really going to do that?!”

“Ahaha! Okay, okay. I won’t anymore. Don’t be mad.”

You’re not alone, after all. What if the baby gets startled? Huh?

Chuckling like a child, Lutis bent his waist mid-sentence—reaching out to gently push Aeli back down onto the chaise as she tried to rise abruptly.

The sudden movement left her half-pressed against him, her vision now filled entirely with Lutis’s chest. Aeli blinked rapidly.

He had a point.

Lutis, who’d been staring silently at Aeli’s sudden calmness, then lowered his head toward her forehead. A warm, soft sensation brushed against her skin, accompanied by the cool, sweet scent of cotton—

‘Ah, right—this isn’t the time for that.’

Anyway, the point was this:

Anyone with Rattleleaf blood couldn’t use magic.

She didn’t know why—but perhaps that explained why Lutis was so exceptionally skilled with a sword.

Which brought her to the problem.

…How on earth could Adi use magic?

Aeli guessed it was likely just coincidence—since the child also carried Mason blood—but then again, nothing was certain.

It was merely speculation. In short, she had no real certainty.

Having spent the entire night hovering near the bed while watching the sleeping child, Aeli finally finished gathering her thoughts only after sunrise.

Since this wasn’t something she could resolve right away, all she could do was firmly tell the child not to use magic in front of others.

As a sense of helplessness washed over her, Aeli closed her eyes tightly—just as the patter of raindrops against the window reached her ears.

True to Mari’s words from the previous night, rain had begun falling since dawn.

‘Perhaps it’s the weather making everything seem unusually gloomy.’

Normally, the sun would have already risen by now—but outside, the sky remained stubbornly overcast.

Right. That was all there was to it.

So much so that even the usual morning birdsong was absent.

It seemed the child would sleep in late today. After all, last night’s commotion had pushed bedtime later than usual, and with the outside world still dark, it was the perfect morning to oversleep.

Thinking this, Aeli decided to simply keep admiring the child’s soft cheek pressed against the bedding.

Knock knock—

“Young Master, are you still asleep?”

She turned her head a few minutes later at the sound of knocking from beyond the door.

Hearing Mari’s unmistakable voice—though she pretended it wasn’t obvious—Aeli glanced at the child. Unaware of the question, the child slept peacefully, oblivious to the world.

After a pause of several seconds, Mari knocked once more and murmured outside the door, seemingly debating whether to quietly enter or not.

Creak—

“I knew it. You’re still asleep.”

Mari finally opened the door carefully, peeked at the sleeping child on the bed, and nodded. Of course, even she couldn’t silence the hinges completely in such a small room.

Knowing the child had gone to bed late last night, Mari tiptoed in without any intention of waking them immediately.

Aeli’s eyes followed Mari instinctively—and something caught her attention.

…She already brought the flowerpot?

Seeing the small pot carefully held in Mari’s hands, Aeli rubbed her cheeks with her palms and stepped toward her. Though in such a cramped room, it amounted to only a step or two.

‘I thought she’d wait until after the rain stopped, since I only mentioned it late last night.’

Peering over Mari’s shoulder as the maid placed the pot on the desk, Aeli noticed droplets clinging to the petals—proof that it had been fetched from outside during the rain.

Mari set down the pot and swiftly left the room, moving with remarkable grace and quietness.

It was just like her—the only one who’d ever managed to wake Aeli, despite her notoriously light sleep, all the way to the bedside since childhood.

—Adi will be so happy when they wake up—huh?

Aeli tilted her head, noticing a single sheet of paper tucked beside the pot that hadn’t been there a moment ago.

It must have slipped slightly from between the pages just now.

Normally, the child never showed anyone what they scribbled—and always hid the papers somewhere afterward, so Aeli had never gotten a proper look.

‘Yesterday, too, they left it between the book pages.’

Since the child had fallen asleep before closing the cover, the draft from Mari’s movement must have shifted the page.

…To cut to the chase: Aeli failed to respect the child’s privacy. Curiosity got the better of her.

Feigning accidental discovery with half-lidded eyes, Aeli glanced at the revealed paper—and her expression grew strange.

This feeling was hard to put into words.

There it was—a drawing rendered with all the innocent clumsiness of a young child.

Above each smiling face, names were neatly written, as if labeling who was who,

And Aeli swallowed hard at the sight of a small, round ink blot near the child’s nickname, as though they’d hesitated before writing it.

Two adults stood smiling in a flower garden, with a much smaller child between them, arms outstretched to hold both parents’ hands.

At a glance, it was clearly a happy family.

—…….

Without any visible reaction, Aeli moved quietly to the head of the child’s bed and knelt.

Seeing the family portrait drawn only in black ink—without even the simplest coloring tools—it simply felt…

Like it had to be done.

[This is the timeline separator]

“Hah! It’s a flower!”

—Mari brought this while Adi was sleeping. Should we say hello to our flower and ask if it slept well?

Just as expected. The child, wriggling under the covers, suddenly spotted the flowerpot on the desk and shot up from bed as if launched, crying out instantly—faster than the blink of an eye.

At Aeli’s words, the child wriggled out of bed energetically, nodded, and hurried over to the pot, beaming as they spoke.

“Hewwo?”

—Do you like the flower?

“Yes! I’ll take really, really good care of it!”

—It’s ‘I will take care of it,’ remember? Looks like our Adi isn’t fully awake yet?

“Uuuh, I wiiiill!”

Now, was that “uuuh” an affirmation or a denial?

Burying the unknowable truth lightly, Aeli smiled faintly and said,

—Good. Then when Mari comes, should we thank her for the flower?

“Yes!”

The child nodded vigorously at Aeli’s words and mumbled happily.

Every day, every day, I’ll take good care of you—so you must bloom long and prettily, okay? Got it?

A cherubic child with an angelic smile, standing beside a vibrant flower.

The sight was so endearing that Aeli found herself smiling unconsciously—until, some time later, Mari arrived with a slightly delayed breakfast, and only then did Aeli’s smile fade.

“Did Mari bring this?”

“Oh—you’ve already seen it?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“I thought the rain might get heavier, and the petals could fall off, so I went out to fetch it at dawn.”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.”

More precisely—it was because of the conversation that followed.

Watching Mari and the child exchange cheerful words with obvious fondness, Aeli suddenly looked around restlessly.

‘…Why’s everyone been so busy since earlier?’

The manor had been somewhat chaotic these past few days as servants hurried between the main house and annex—but not to this extent.

It felt excessive enough that Aeli couldn’t simply ignore it, and her brow furrowed slightly.

Apparently, Aeli wasn’t the only one who sensed the odd atmosphere—rolling their eyes exaggeratedly, the child turned to Mari and asked,

“But hey, Mari… is something happening today?”

“Hm?”

“Everyone looks so busy….”

At the child’s question, Mari’s face flickered with realization as she checked her surroundings cautiously before replying carefully, “Probably because His Grace the Duke arrived at dawn.”

Hmm, I see.

‘…Wait. No, I really don’t see at all.’