🔊 TTS Settings
Chapter : 28
Rustle.
“Hah…”
With a deep sigh, Lawrence lifted his body.
“Hot.”
The night air must have been warm; Lawrence loosened his collar.
“Phew…”
But even that didn’t cool him down. He climbed out of bed and walked toward the terrace.
Chirr, chirr.
Leaning against the terrace railing, Lawrence stared blankly into the darkness, then slowly closed his eyes.
When he did, Patricia’s face surfaced—her calm voice narrating her own situation.
‘I probably won’t look for them. I don’t think they’re even curious.’
Lawrence’s brow furrowed.
‘They told me never to come back again.’
Patricia had said it with a face as if nothing mattered.
From what Lawrence saw, she didn’t look hurt at all.
“……”
Which made him feel even worse.
She looked as though she had given up on everything.
As though she had given up on being loved, given up on hoping.
He knew better than anyone how much she must have hurt alone, how often she must have felt discouraged and cried to reach the point of letting go.
Which is why her calmness only made her seem more pitiful.
“Haa…”
Lawrence had long resented Patricia—the foolish girl who wagged her tail like a dog wanting affection from his family. A girl who seemed to have no pride.
Her pathetic clinging to love that would never come only infuriated those watching.
‘They told me never to come back again.’
But now, Lawrence no longer knew.
What did he even want Patricia to do?
Frustrated, he drew in another deep breath.
“What on earth happened?”
His gaze fell on the garden pond.
Seeing the bright moon reflected on the water brought back memories, and Lawrence stood there staring for a long time.
* * *
Lawrence Gerhardt.
When he turned ten,
his father, Duke Gerhardt, held a banquet for his birthday.
It was also the first day Lawrence appeared in high society.
At the young duke’s debut, all sorts of imperial figures gathered.
High-ranking nobles, and even the emperor, dropped by to congratulate him.
And the reason for all this attention was not simply because Lawrence was Gerhardt’s only son.
He was born with an ability believed vanished—the Black Dragon’s power, the gift of the first Getratr.
Physically superior to humans and possessing a qualitatively different mana,
it was no wonder the emperor traveled all the way to the Gerhardt duchy to celebrate a five-year-old boy.
“Master Lawrence, the Marquess of Huate.”
“Hello. Thank you for coming.”
That day, Lawrence stood with his steward and greeted those who came for him.
“This is my son, Tade Huate.”
“Hello.”
Despite the many people celebrating him and the grandeur of the event in his honor, Lawrence did not look happy.
Expressionless, he seemed annoyed by everything.
Still, he forced his lips upward to greet every person who approached.
“Young master, the Duke of Herarilla.”
“A pleasure, Duke.”
“The duke’s children: Morgan Herarilla, Barber Herarilla, Milum Herarilla, and Patricia Herarilla.”
Following the steward’s introduction, Lawrence’s gaze slowly shifted from Morgan to Barber, then Milum.
And finally, it stopped on Patricia.
A girl smaller than him.
Platinum hair braided neatly, pale skin, and luminous violet eyes that shone as she looked at Lawrence.
Her lips parted in a small gasp.
And then her cheeks turned red in an instant.
Lawrence frowned slightly at her stare, but did not look away.
A child like him.
A child not loved.
A weakness of House Herarilla.
Ever since his father had told him about that child, Lawrence had been curious.
And that curiosity held his gaze in place.
How would she act?
Was she as miserable as him—or more so?
The steward tapped his shoulder lightly and Lawrence finally looked away.
At that very moment, Milum pinched Patricia hard on the hand.
“Ah!”
She let out a small cry, but that was all.
She didn’t whine or sob.
When the duke shot her a displeased glare, she simply rubbed the sore spot and pouted.
“Happy birthday.”
“Thank you, Duke Herarilla.”
As he answered, Lawrence watched Patricia’s back as she turned away.
The duke joined the adults, and Patricia hurried after her brothers toward the separate children’s hall.
And as she reached the door in her yellow dress, she turned back.
Their eyes met again.
* * *
“Young master, shall we return and rest?”
“No.”
After the long line of greetings ended, Lawrence shook his head as he exited the hall with his steward.
“I have somewhere to go alone. You may leave first.”
“Where—”
Lawrence didn’t answer.
But seeing him heading toward the second hall, the steward closed his mouth.
No matter how mature he seemed, Lawrence was only ten.
He was just a child wanting to be with other children.
The steward watched him for a moment, then left.
* * *
“Lady Patricia.”
A child of the duke and his mistress.
In a monogamous empire, adultery was a grave stain.
So it was only expected that a child born of such a union would be denied and despised.
Duke Herarilla, eager to hide his disgrace, registered Patricia as the child between him and the duchess.
But not long after Patricia entered the household, the duchess wasted away and died.
Probably from a broken heart.
Knowing her husband had cheated and yet forced to remain silent so as not to tarnish the family’s name.
Step, step.
Lawrence entered the second hall on impulse.
“Hmm?”
Children unloved by their parents.
Inside, kids had already split into groups.
Except Patricia.
She hovered near her brothers, but they brushed her off as though she were bothersome.
“Why are you alone, my lady?”
Lawrence approached her and asked.
“Well, I…”
“Young lord Gerhardt. Embarrassing though it is, she is not very good at speaking.”
Morgan cut in quickly, only just realizing Lawrence had arrived.
“Pft!”
“Hehehe.”
His words triggered laughter—first Barber, then the others nearby.
Now Lawrence understood why Patricia stood alone.
Her brothers had clearly said such things to keep her isolated.
Patricia bit her lip in embarrassment—and tears began to fall.
“This idiot, don’t cry.”
Barber shoved her shoulder hard.
“Stop disgracing the Herarilla name and return to your room.”
“Sorry.”
When Milum gripped her shoulder and barked his order, Patricia slowly turned and left.
“Young lord Lawrence. It’s gotten dull here—would you show us the gardens?”
Having chased her off, Morgan approached Lawrence.
He and the others eyed Lawrence with anticipation.
“……”
Lawrence stared for a moment, then smiled.
“Very well.”
He looked toward the door Patricia had exited.
“The more, the merrier. Lady Patricia should come too.”
“What? But she—”
Lawrence simply smiled again, and Morgan could only bow his head and agree.
Not long after, Morgan dragged Patricia back by the arm.
Clearly uncomfortable with his touch, she still smiled brightly—happy to be included.
“My lady, will you join us?”
At Lawrence’s question, Patricia nodded with a radiant smile.
* * *
“This lake is my favorite place.”
A winter day.
The children followed Lawrence to the frozen lake of the Gerhardt estate and gathered in a circle around him.
Lawrence picked up a large stone and tossed it toward the lake.
Thunk, thunk-thunk.
It skipped across the hard ice before stopping.
The frozen surface reflected the moon in jagged angles.
Without hesitation, Lawrence stepped onto the frozen lake.
The others, eyes fixed on him, followed.
Some staggered as they struggled to keep balance, but soon they learned and began walking around the ice.
“Ah!”
Patricia, who had walked beside Lawrence the whole way, stayed close to him even on the lake.
She nearly fell and grabbed his coat.
Realizing her mistake, she quickly let go, but Lawrence shrugged lightly.
“My lady, you can hold on.”
Patricia hesitated, then gripped his coat again.
“Let’s go back.”
As Lawrence’s interest faded, he walked back to shore.
Crunch, crunch.
Patricia followed, still holding his coat.
And at that same moment—
The ice shattered.
And the children standing on the lake plunged into the water all at once.
