TSHL 24

Chapter 24

Nick’s eyes went round. He couldn’t help but stare wide-eyed at the guest.
“Are you… really the Third Prince?”
“No.”
“……”
“But I’ve heard that a lot. Seems I look a bit like that Third Prince fellow.”

Nick blinked blankly at him. The man looked extremely confident about his appearance.
Nick thought, if he really were the Third Prince, then this shamelessness would be astounding — but if he wasn’t, then that same shamelessness came precisely because he wasn’t.

“I’ve been mistaken for him plenty of times,” the man continued. “But no, I’m not. I can say that with confidence now — someone told me the Third Prince in the portrait and I have a completely different aura.”
“Ah…”
“So, what did you come here for?”
“Ah.”

After his confident denial, Nick took a breath and asked,
“Are you… close with my mother?”
“…Your mother?”

The man tilted his head, caught off guard by the question. Then he asked,
“The owner of this gallery is your mother?”
“…Yes.”
“She told me you were just an errand boy.”
“……”

The fact that his mother had introduced him merely as an employee stung for a moment, but Nick spoke again.
“I’m the errand boy and… her son. More precisely, she’s my father’s new wife — my stepmother.”
“I see.”
“So, I’ll ask again. Are you close with my mother?”
“…Hmm.”
“Yes?”
“I want to be close to her. At least, that’s how I feel. I’m not sure what she thinks, though.”
“Then… I’d like to ask you a favor.”

Up close, the man’s air of confidence and composure made Nick nervous, but he said it anyway.
“A favor?”
“Yes.”
“What kind of favor?”

When the man asked back, Nick sighed deeply and leaned against a roadside tree overlooking a field of swaying rice. The man stepped up beside him, and Nick began slowly,

“…I came to Laurencia because I want something from my mother.”

Nick’s story unfolded.
“My current mother… she used to be a close friend of my birth mother. But my real mother died suddenly in an accident long ago, and to take care of me when I was still young, she married my father. Then, as soon as I became an adult, she left our mansion.”
“……”
“She says it’s only natural, since her duty ended when I came of age. But I don’t want her to go like that. So I came here, to try and persuade her to come back home with me.”

Surprisingly, the stranger listened to Nick’s story quite seriously. Sitting down beside him, he said,
“So, what exactly are you asking me to do?”
“If you really are close with my mother, maybe… you could persuade her for me.”
“You’re asking me to convince your mother to come back?”
“Yes. I’ve tried myself, but there’s a limit to what I can say. You’re close to her, so maybe you could bring it up naturally and persuade her better than I can.”

Nick looked up at him with hopeful eyes, even grabbing the hem of his cloak.
“If you succeed, I’ll reward you handsomely. What do you say?”

The man didn’t answer immediately. He only looked at Nick from beneath the shadow of his hat, his expression unreadable. Finally, he spoke.
“Are you done talking? I think it’s my turn now. I’ll answer slowly.”
“Please.”
“First of all—your proposal is rejected. I have no intention of persuading your mother for you.”
“What?”

Nick’s mouth fell open. The man’s tone was cold.
“You’re still a kid, so maybe you don’t know this, but persuasion isn’t something done through someone else’s mouth. If you want to convince someone, you have to do it, with your own reasoning. That’s what persuasion is.”
“……”
“Second, your reasoning for wanting to bring her back doesn’t make any sense.”
“What do you mean? How can it not make sense—”
“Why should your stepmother spend her life serving a family that’s not even blood-related to her?”
“……”
“She said she’d stay until you were grown, and now she’s leaving, just like she said. So what’s wrong with that?”
“……”
“Before you beg her to come home, ask yourself this—what’s your real reason? You don’t have one. You’re just letting your emotions talk.”

“How can you say that? She may not be my birth mother, but she raised me until I became an adult. She’s my mother in every sense that matters! What’s so illogical about wanting her back home?”
“Do you think she sees you as her real son? You’re not her own flesh and blood. If she really did, she wouldn’t have left the house in the first place.”

Nick’s counterargument fell flat. He could only look at the man, his eyes full of hurt.
But the man wasn’t finished.

“And finally, third—I personally don’t want that woman to become your mother again.”
“…Why not?”
Nick asked, and the man gave a faint, ironic smile.
“Because to me, she’s the most talented artist I’ve ever met.”
“…An artist?”

Nick blinked, puzzled at the unexpected word. The man continued,
“How much do you actually know about your mother? Did you know she has an incredible talent for painting?”
“My mother… paints?”

He had never heard such a thing before. Nick’s eyes widened.

The man turned and pointed through the glass door behind them.
“Those paintings on the wall—your mother painted all of them. You didn’t know?”

Nick turned to look inside the gallery. The paintings hung neatly along the walls, as if they’d always been there.
All those… she painted them? The thought had never even crossed his mind.

“So those were all hers… I didn’t know. I’ve never seen her paint before.”
“She’s a natural-born talent. Her work is far too good to be hanging in a little countryside gallery like this.”

The stranger’s gaze, looking at the paintings through the glass, softened. Then he turned to Nick.
“See? You don’t even know what she’s good at, or what she loves. Do you really think you have the right to ask her to come back?”

Nick bit his lip. Every word hit like a hammer.
“…I can still try. I’ll make an effort from now on. No matter what, I’ll convince her.”

Blushing and defiant, Nick turned and strode back toward the gallery.

“Tch… even when I tell him, he gets riled up.”

The cloaked stranger—Arwin—watched Nick’s back as he walked away. Then, suddenly, realization struck him.
“Ah… damn it.”

He hadn’t meant to—but he had learned far too much about her.

Arwin muttered “Damn it, damn it all” to himself all the way home.
Ever since meeting Countess Allison, he had needed time to think. He’d stayed away from the gallery because he wanted a little space to sort out his thoughts. He needed to ask himself whether, as the count had warned, he was simply approaching her out of passing curiosity.

Of course, part of it was that he didn’t want to see her laughing and smiling with that count, either.

It was all because of that small, foolish flutter in his chest. The excitement when she greeted him so warmly.

“Arwin! It’s been a while. Why haven’t you visited? I was waiting.”

He had been so happy at her cheerful welcome that he’d let his curiosity get the better of him.

“I had some business to take care of. It seems you have a new assistant.”
“Just a helper for odd jobs. Come, have a cup of coffee with me.”

Naturally, he’d been curious about who that new “helper” was. The boy’s face had even looked oddly familiar — definitely not a commoner’s.

Nobles recognize one another. Those raised in luxury carry an unmistakable air, and the boy had that same atmosphere.
So his curiosity had begun there — and ended with him listening far too closely to the boy’s story.

He’d heard too much.
About her background. Her past.

The boy, barely a grown man, had unknowingly told Arwin all the clues about her true identity.
That she had once been a nobleman’s new wife — that she had left the mansion recently.

Arwin, though never fond of aristocratic gossip, had still heard the story making waves in high society seven years ago, when he’d just come of age.
The tragedy of the House of Hydrian, and the tale of the new duchess who followed.

The young duchess Diana Hydrian — who had died suddenly in an accident.
And the friend who, soon after, had married the duke in her place.

Could all these coincidences really line up by chance?

“Then that boy would be the young lord of the Hydrian family… and that woman would be…”

A duchess who’d left her ducal house?

“No way.”

Arwin shook his head. It was a plausible theory, but no one could say if it was true.
Maybe she wasn’t a noble at all. And even if she was, remarriage wasn’t exactly rare in the empire.

“……”

Above all, Arwin didn’t want to know.
Not from other people, at least.

If he were to learn about her past,
he wanted to hear it from her lips alone.

And with that thought, Arwin brushed away the tangled mess in his head.