Preparing herself mentally for either outcome, Theodore spoke.

“Then you should go rest. You must be tired from your long journey.”

“What?”

This was unexpected for Ariana.

They’re giving me a room without asking anything? So easily?

Doubting any ulterior motives, Ariana was lost in thought when Carradin stood up and offered her hand. Confused, Ariana could only stare at the Duchess’s hand.

Carradin’s palm was calloused, the hand of one who had wielded a sword for a long time.

Suddenly, she remembered Cyrus mentioning that even the women in the White family were warriors.

“Child?”

When Carradin called in a prodding tone, Ariana shifted her gaze from the palm to Carradin’s face and spoke firmly yet politely.

“I apologize, I’m not yet accustomed to the culture here, and I don’t know what you wish of me, Honorable Duchess.”

For a moment, Carradin’s face contorted and Ariana realized she had made a major mistake. Before she could stand to apologize, Carradin tightly grasped Ariana’s hand.

“This old woman,”

Carradin said, suppressing rising emotions.

“Just wanted to hold our child’s hand for a bit.”

Ariana looked up at Carradin with widened eyes, unable to discern the reason for the sadness radiating from the face of the once-beautiful Duchess.

But she did know that the calloused hand gripping hers was incredibly warm.

Led out of the dining room by Carradin’s hand, Ariana could not hide her confusion.

‘Hand holding…’

Of course, she knew parents would hold their children’s hands like this while walking. Duke Bronthe and the Duchess had always held the hands of Helena and Victoria when they were young.

That common experience for most children had never been permitted for Ariana. No one had ever held her hand and walked slowly with her, not even when she couldn’t walk well.

She had to walk and run alone. Falling and getting up was solely her own responsibility.

Having always thought this was natural, she had never yearned for it. She had never envied Helena and Victoria, who walked hand in hand with Rachel.
An indescribable emotion filled my chest when the unimaginable became reality. Yet unable to express it, I merely sealed my lips and followed Keredin.

We climbed to the third floor via the central staircase and walked down the left hallway. Keredin stopped in front of a large door.

The maids who followed us opened the door, and Keredin led Ariana in by the hand.

Entering the room, Ariana involuntarily parted her lips, surprised by its splendor.

A spacious living room, two bedrooms, a dressing room, and a bathroom. The large windows allowed sunlight to warm the room’s air, filling it with a soft and pleasant aroma.

The furniture in the living room was luxurious, even featuring a large fireplace.

Even Victoriana Helena didn’t have such a grand room.

Ariana assumed it must have belonged to an ancestor, an empress dowager. She never dreamt it would be her room, despite the slightly subtle color schemes of the furniture and decorations.

“This is your room, Ariana.”

She was genuinely surprised when Keredin said that.

“My room?”

“Yes. I’ve always kept it ready, thinking you might visit the empire someday.”

Unable to respond to the unexpected statement, her mind was a fog of fatigue and surprise.

“My room…”

“I’d like to show you around, but you must be tired. Rest now, and we can talk and tour the room later. Understand?”

Keredin watched Ariana lie down on the bed in the bedroom.

For Ariana, it was her first time experiencing such a soft, large bed with a pleasant scent. She wondered if she could sleep in such a place.

Contrary to her worries, the accumulated fatigue accepted the soft blanket’s warm, sunlit scent, pulling Ariana into a deep sleep.

Keredin looked down at Ariana, who had fallen asleep as soon as her head touched the pillow.

“Is she asleep?”

Russel, who had followed a step behind, fearing she might get scared, asked in a quiet voice.

“I don’t know if she ever intended to hold my hand.”

Keredin’s voice was tinged with moisture. Russel bowed his head slightly, taking in his tiny daughter.

Her unforgettable light blue hair lay disheveled on the pillow. Awake, she was a picture of perfection, but asleep, she was like a child.

Yet even in sleep, her contorted face broke Russel’s heart.

It’s okay, you’re okay now.

He withdrew his hand that was about to caress his young daughter’s cheek. Lest she shatter, lest she wake up and look at him with eyes full of guarded tension again.

What kind of life had she led to always be so perfect?

It was then that Russel profoundly felt he knew nothing about his daughter.

If Rachel refused to share and was estranged due to difficult circumstances, it would only sound like an excuse to this child. Even to his ears.

“It’s time to let her know.”

Russel’s voice settled heavily.

“A child should hold their parent’s hand when walking.”