RALMH 65

Chapter 65

Ian quietly set aside the bundle of letters that Betty’s aunt, Mirin, had brought out.

The Marquis Prowell unfolded the letters one by one, a bitter smile tugging at his lips.

“So, in the end, he married that woman he once said he wanted to marry. At the very least, I hope they were happy.”

“I believe they were.”

Though the time had been short, the letters clearly carried traces of happiness. Even in the script Betty had discovered, fragments of such a past were visible.

“That’s right. Didn’t you say he had a daughter? Did you find her as well? If both parents passed away, it must have been too much for her to endure alone.”

Though he sounded sympathetic, an unmistakable trace of expectation—his desire to meet her—showed through.

“You have already met her, my lord.”

“…I have? When?”

The Marquis’s face filled with bewilderment.

“Recently. Just one person, isn’t there? Someone you felt a strange closeness to, someone who inexplicably seemed destined to be connected to you.”

Though Ian spoke indirectly, the Marquis immediately understood. Realization slowly spread across his face.

He could no longer remain seated and almost leapt to his feet, asking in a tone full of disbelief:

“…Betty? Are you saying Aaron’s daughter is Betty? That Aaron had a daughter, and that daughter was Betty?”

He seemed not to notice that he kept repeating the same question.

Ian nodded, confirming that his deduction was correct.

“It can only be Betty. She’s the one who possessed this sword and these letters. The region where Aaron Prowell worked as a mercenary matches the place where Betty grew up. And above all…”

“…She resembles him. Doesn’t she?”

The Marquis braced himself against the desk as though breathing had suddenly become difficult.

When Ian hurriedly moved to help him, he waved him off.

“No. I’m all right. It’s just… astonishing that something I had secretly wished for in my heart has truly come to pass.”

In truth, Edmund Prowell had been reminded of Janine every time he saw Betty, more often than he had let on.

He had thought it was merely because Betty’s brown hair happened to resemble Janine’s, making the resemblance all the more striking.

Her calm and gentle nature appealed to him deeply, and even that seemed similar to his daughter’s, which only added to the likeness.

“If Janine had a younger sister, she would have been like her, don’t you think?”
“For once, I agree with you.”

Even when speaking with his mother, the Marchioness Dowager, it had been the same. Only with Betty did he feel an odd sense of familiarity.

He had dismissed it as a natural reaction to her warm and affectionate personality.

But as time went on, he couldn’t help but treat her like true family, secretly wishing she might actually be so.

“To openly take her into Prowell… still, it’s not wise to risk it, just in case.”
“I agree. Families tied to the Imperial House may seem favored for now, but once bound, there is no way out.”

By helping Marquis Edmund Prowell, Betty had unwillingly become entangled in the complex web of noble family interests.

And now, with the position of an exclusive maid to the duke’s daughter, it seemed clear she would need the backing of some authority to protect her in whatever situation might arise.

“Shartré is truly unchanged.”

Hearing about Lord Shartré’s latest misdeeds, Edmund knew he couldn’t remain indecisive any longer and resolved to act.

He had already considered it, so concluding talks with Baron Hales’s family had been no trouble. And yet…

“All of it was meaningless. Betty was right before me, and I knew nothing. Not even the faintest suspicion crossed my mind.”

To think he had wandered blindly, unable to recognize his own blood—it was laughable in hindsight.

“Even I only grew suspicious a few days ago and confirmed it yesterday.”

“…And Betty? Does she know?”

“Yes.”

Though the family glittered in imperial favor, Edmund could not shake the feeling that their fortune had run its course.

Even Janine, as Empress, was not secure; with no Crown Prince, her position was stable only by the Emperor’s absolute trust.

Outwardly firm, but in reality fragile.

Edmund and the Dowager alone struggled to keep the family afloat for Janine’s sake, enduring with all they had.

“And now, at long last, fortune finally comes to our house again.”

This news was beyond happiness—it was a blessing.

The more he realized he had truly found his younger brother’s daughter, the brighter Edmund Prowell’s smile grew.

“Where is Betty? I wish to speak with her directly.”

“I believe she was taking a walk in the gardens. You should find her there.”

Ian’s role ended there. He could read both hope and anxiety on the Marquis’s face.

“Why do you look troubled, my lord?”

“…Because the truth remains that Prowell abandoned Aaron—and Betty as well. I wonder if I even have the right to face her.”

“I don’t believe Betty would see it that way.”

“But isn’t it the truth? We neglected them. Aaron and his family.”

Such bitter regret would remain forever, even joy could not erase it.

He was glad to know of Betty now, yet the years lost were too many.

So many years of ignorance weighed heavily on him, making him wonder if it was right to so readily claim her as family.

“You know Betty’s nature well. And Betty is not ignorant of Prowell’s history either.”

“…Yes. Perhaps I’m simply seeking comfort from you because I fear the reproach I deserve. Thank you.”

Ian, determined, watched as the Marquis departed.

Looking out the window, he saw Betty sitting in the same chair she had chosen on her very first day here.

Moments later, the Marquis appeared. Betty tried to rise, but he urged her to stay seated, taking a place beside her.

Both the Marquis and Betty seemed intent on showing consideration for each other.

With such mutual care, conflict or friction between them seemed impossible.

Ian watched the awkwardness quickly fade, the Marquis holding Betty’s hand fervently as he spoke to her, and a smile spread across his own lips.

“Both the Marquis and Betty…”

Both were people who undoubtedly deserved such happiness.

* * *

When she heard the Marquis had come, Betty’s heart grew restless, and she slipped outside.

The desolate scenery of the ducal gardens somehow helped calm her anxious heart.

“Betty.”

Startled by the familiar voice, she jumped to her feet.

There, smiling with a warmth she had never seen before, stood Edmund Prowell.

“So, it’s finally been revealed.”

Ian had told her beforehand—he intended to speak with the Marquis first.

He had already explained that his investigation confirmed what she suspected: Aaron Prowell was her father.

Still, unsure how to reveal her identity herself, she had been grateful for Ian’s offer to handle it.

Deep inside, she had feared the Prowell family might refuse to acknowledge her existence.

“Betty. The Grand Duke told me everything. That you are Aaron’s daughter.”

But hearing the Marquis speak, unable to hide his joy with each word, Betty realized how foolish her fears had been.

The Prowell family would never turn her away. Her anxieties had been her own creation.

“You resemble him so much—I can’t imagine how I ever failed to see it.”

As he came closer, the Marquis motioned for her not to stand and sat beside her.

Studying her face carefully, he said again:

“You are the very image of him. You could only be Aaron’s daughter.”

Was it truly that obvious? Betty self-consciously touched her own face before dropping her hand again.

“I hardly remember my father… I didn’t even know what kind of man he was.”

Hearing about her father from another felt strange. As she spoke hesitantly, deep sorrow clouded the Marquis’s expression.