TLDWAE 51

Chapter 51

Alice popped the last strawberry into her mouth, then quickly reached out toward the count, asking for more. Watching the little girl get excited from her sugar rush, the count pulled out another strawberry and dangled it in front of her.

“Good girl, good girl.”

Her eyes fixed on the strawberry, Alice followed after him as if entranced, and before anyone realized it, she had walked right into the townhouse on her own two feet.

When the count finally handed her the strawberry as a reward, he suddenly heard frantic voices calling for the child.

“Miss Alice! My lady!”
“Where’s Lady Alice?!”
“My lord?”

The old butler, who had been running about with the maids and servants, stopped dead when he spotted Count Lowell. Just as he was about to bow, his gaze landed on Alice, who stood before him with her mouth and hands smeared red, and he clutched at his chest in shock.

“We found Lady Alice!”

At his cry, the servants who had been scattering here and there all rushed over at once. While everyone was sighing in relief, Alice calmly gnawed at her strawberry with her front teeth.

At that moment, Caria appeared, leisurely descending the central staircase in a light chemise dress, yawning.

“See? I told you I was at home. And yet—”

“Ahem! How have you been? I only stopped by today to drop this off—”

“Why is he coming in together with my daughter?”

Just as the count was about to hand her the basket of strawberries, he froze at that one word Caria said—daughter.

Daughter? Did she just say daughter? Looking at Alice’s face, there was indeed a resemblance, but he had never heard a single word about Caria having a daughter…

Despite the confusion swirling in his mind, Count Lowell’s years of political training kept his expression unreadable. Yet the words he had planned earlier slipped out of his mouth unbidden.

“I, ah… found her on the way.”

“Here’s Number 1, and here’s Number 2. Say hello.”

“I’ve already heard. You treated our mother kindly. I’m her eldest, Andeon.”

“Number 2? Alice is Alice. How come I’m Number 2?”

Blinking her blue eyes, Alice asked the boy. Patiently, Andeon explained: they were twins, he had been born first, and she had come after, so it was simply a convenient way of speaking.

Alice tilted her head with an “ohhh” and nodded in understanding. As Andeon picked up a napkin to gently wipe the food from her mouth, Count Lowell stared at them with a grave expression and asked:

“Twins, you say?”

“Yeah.”

“Truly twins?”

He had been told they were five years old, but one looked like a fifteen-year-old young man, while the other seemed more like a five-month-old infant. How could two children born at the same time from the same womb be so utterly different?

The count chewed his bread absentmindedly, marveling at the mysteries of life.

“Alice, you should eat your vegetables too.”

What surprised him even more was Caria’s attitude toward the children.

He had always thought her sharp and bristling, and expected she would be the same with her offspring. But her care was skillful—making sure their plates were balanced, warning them to chew properly.

He remembered hearing she had volunteered at an orphanage for a long while. Unlike other noble ladies, she had rolled up her sleeves and directly tended to children.

As he watched her meet her child’s eyes and help with her meal for some time, Count Lowell tapped his fingers against the table—tap, tap—before blurting out, unable to hold it in any longer:

“Leave them be and eat something yourself! Why are the kids all plump while you’re skin and bones?”

“What? Old man, why are you picking a fight while I’m eating?”

“I’m not picking a fight!”

“Mother.”

Just as Caria and the count were about to bicker yet again over nothing, Andeon interjected. He placed his small hand over Caria’s and, as always, gazed at her with gentle eyes.

“I’ve already finished eating, so I’ll help Alice. Mother, you should have your meal. That’s what the count meant as well.”

With the boy’s soft-spoken words and smiling face, both Caria and the count fell silent. A quarrel no one had ever been able to stop was ended with a single sentence. The servants watched with deep admiration for the young master.

“Hard to tell who’s the adult here.”

“What was that?”

“Oh, nothing at all, my lord.”

The butler chuckled smoothly and moved to assist Alice with her meal. As silence settled briefly over the dining hall, Caria casually spooned up some egg dish and asked:

“Did you also come to dig into what happened in the capital?”

“The capital?”

“When I declared divorce, exposed the Pandion duke’s corruption, and revealed the children. That.”

“Revealed… illegitimate children? Then these two are—”

The visibly shaken count glanced at Andeon and Alice. Caria frowned.

So he came here knowing nothing? Why? Did he only come to check if the townhouse was still intact? Just how obsessed was he with this place? If that were the case, he might as well have never sold it at all.

As she grew weary of his stubbornness, a maid approached and set a small plate before her. Custard cream and plump strawberries.

“Strawberries? In this season?”

“The count brought them, my lady. Fresh from his estate’s greenhouse.”

“The old man? Why?”

“Well, because the new mistress likes fruit.”

At those words, Caria’s eyes widened, and she looked at Count Lowell. He twitched, shoulders jerking, and averted his gaze, shredding bread into tiny pieces.

“How do you even know what I like?”

“How wouldn’t I know? Anyone could tell by watching you eat.”

After all the times they had sat across from each other, how could he not?

Though he answered brusquely out of embarrassment, Caria was truly astonished. Her eyes grew complicated.

Images of the Pandion household’s cold, lifeless dining hall flickered in her mind. Dozens, hundreds of meals shared, yet not a single soul had cared what she ate. That had always been normal…

Something clogged tightly in her chest, and she put down her knife and fork. The count’s scolding voice about “eating like a bird and how can you start your day with energy like that?” rang too loudly.

“—Why aren’t you asking?”

“Asking what?”

“Who the children’s father is. When and why I cheated on my husband. Where the kids were raised all this time. Why I’m separating from Pandion. Whether I have any plan after angering His Majesty. All those things you’re so good at—prying into others’ business. Why are you so quiet today?”

Those had been all the questions hurled at her nonstop yesterday. Cloaked as concern, but really just shallow, gossipy curiosity. Caria had met no one and answered nothing.

But now the count was sitting across from her, eating with her. The same meddlesome old man who loved sticking his nose in other people’s affairs—why was he holding his tongue on something this big, preening instead over strawberries?

Her question left him silent for a while. He looked at her steadily, directly, then let out a deep sigh.

“Would you like me to ask?”

“Everyone else seems curious.”

Caria smirked with her habitual twisted smile. But the count was long used to her barbs. Such mild teasing didn’t even tickle anymore.

“If it came to that…”

“Huh?”

“If it came to that, there must have been a reason.”

That was his only reply. If she had done such a thing, then surely she had her reasons—that was the trust underlying his words.

What do you even know about me…

They had only been acquainted for barely two weeks. They had raised their voices in argument a few times, exchanged empty chatter, shared tea on occasion. That was all.

And yet, without knowing her circumstances, how could he toss out such words so easily?

“Why are you treating me this way? What do you want from me? Why are you… why are you being so good to me?”

Her husband of many years, her blood relatives, even her only father—every one of them had told her to endure, to forgive. No one had considered her situation or feelings. If you just put up with it, everyone will be at peace, they said.

So why was this man, practically a stranger, the one who seemed to understand her heart? The one who offered comfort and reassurance? Caria had never leaned on anyone before, and so she could not so easily grasp the hand he extended.

Because everything in the world followed the law of equivalent exchange. To receive something meant to give something in return. At least, in her heart it did.

“Because you’re beautiful. That’s why.”

“…What?”

“You’ve endured trials and hardships, overcome them alone, and now you’re sitting here. You remind me of a daughter. You’re admirable, you’re praiseworthy, and I want you to finally find happiness.”

The count remembered the sight of the Pandion duke outside the hotel. Just being married to such a selfish man must have been misery, and with the emperor refusing to grant her a divorce, how much more must her heart have suffered?

The children would be fine—there was a house, money, and with proper affection, they would grow up well. Caria was still young; she could find a new husband who suited her.

So now, he only wished for her to live however she desired. And he would lend what little strength he had, so that she could finally be happy.

“…If only my father had been like you.”

In that moment, Caria felt to her bones how meaningless blood ties could be. If she had realized it sooner, she would not have caused such a scene that day, tumbling down the stairs in despair.