Episode 151
There was a time when wealth and honor were the exclusive property of those with noble lineage. Even just over a century ago, it had been so. At that time, the ducal house's prestige was so formidable that it would have been no exaggeration to say it stood shoulder to shoulder with the royal family, no different from any other grand noble house.
The family's prestige, which had seemed eternal, was dealt a devastating blow by the duke two generations prior. It was because he was dissatisfied with parliamentary politics and joined hands with the military to threaten the royal family. Whether that foolish head of the house had truly attempted something as grand as a coup was unclear. However, the royal family imprisoned everyone involved, including the head, and mercilessly beheaded them.
The head of the ducal house was severed in that manner. The next duke became the youngest son—the most docile and the most youthful—under the royal family's intervention. Despite such an event, the family line alone was continued, so the previous duke must have spent his entire life groveling in gratitude for the royal family's mercy. Rosalyn, his spouse, was no exception, and she must have endured decades with a blood-draining heart, striving alongside her husband to restore the fallen household's prestige.
The ducal house had barely continued its line by completely cutting out and denying the existence of its previous head, who had been no different from an inflamed wound. Perhaps due to the couple's relentless efforts, the family's momentum began to revive once more, even if not as before.
After all, it was a house of high nobility. People still revered the noble blood that had continued for centuries.
Having gone through such an ordeal, it is impossible to know why the current duke committed an act that seemed to repeat the family's past mistakes. Perhaps his mother, Rosalyn, had been the most dumbfounded of all.
Perhaps he had harbored resentment throughout his upbringing, watching his parents grovel before the royal family, and perhaps he had gotten involved with the man who was a prince at the time, attempting something with the rashness and reckless confidence of youth. At any rate, he had dared to think he could use his own hands to turn the crown meant for the princess, the eldest daughter, toward his friend.
Richard Grayson, who resembled his father in his usually quiet disposition, thought he must set things right the moment he learned of the truth. Since the deed had already been done and could not be stopped, he must have thought he needed to bring his older brother down quickly, just as had been done before, and beg the royal family for forgiveness.
He gathered evidence he had collected with the intention of reporting the matter and went to his mother, Rosalyn.
It was late at night. Rosalyn stared blankly at the unbelievable news her second son had brought and the evidence supporting it. How could one possibly define that suffocating feeling?
But one thing was certain. She was convinced that the household, which had barely regained its proper place, could be massacred down to its roots this time. Rosalyn must have recalled the new queen, whom she had met on several occasions and whose disposition was unlike the late king's in many ways. The queen had already been fed up with her younger sister, who had tried to steal her place, and had even lost her betrothed because of it, so she would not hesitate in the slightest.
The young queen was clever and adept at incitement and scheming. Even if the petty ducal intrigues that had gone on behind the scenes before her ascension were trivial, she possessed the ability to blow them up to the scale of what the duke two generations ago had committed. She was also someone with the will to use that as a pretext to destroy the family.
Though it is impossible to know exactly what conversation transpired between mother and son, in any case, it must have been a reaction that fell short of Richard's expectations.
Thus, he must have set out for that place again, leading his family. Brushing aside his dissuading mother, regardless of whether rain was still pouring or the sky was dark.
Even if Mother does not help, I will set things right alone if I must.
With such determination, he finally set out on the road, and that was how he met his misfortune.
"The child's resentment toward that person was immense. Even when the old woman knelt and shed tears, the child wouldn't even spare her a glance."
The child could not have known all the conversation the adults shared that day, nor the circumstances of adults. However, that day's memory engraved one fact clearly upon the child.
Grandmother is not on our side.
Only such distrust was etched clearly.
"That person never came again after that. However, through the name of some foundation, she continued to send things like child support. She would sew and send new clothes for the child to wear every season. But until just before death, the child neither sent a letter to that person, nor asked us for news of her. Until the very end, she wished to be remembered only as Miss Eileen, daughter of Mr. Marlborough."
Sasha now listened to Mrs. Aiber's story without interjecting at all.
All kinds of emotions surged forth. The actions of the Duchess, who had been as haughty as she was suspicious, began to make sense, and at the same time, she felt pity for the life of the child who had tried to live as a different person, cutting ties with her grandmother.
At the same time, she felt a faint sense of guilt as she recalled her younger self, who in her childish heart had secretly hoped that the real one would not return because she did not want to go back to life on the streets.
She realizes she has lived her entire life like a stopper.
A truth like a family shame that could never be revealed to others, yet something that could not be aired out satisfactorily now either, so it had been buried ambiguously, causing someone's heart to fester for a lifetime.
...that her life had been no different from a stopper that kept all those things plugged up so they could not spill outward.
"......."
Sasha looks ahead with an expressionless face. The scenery outside the window passes quickly. She fixes her gaze on the window frame that holds the savage nature as it is—nothing but blue fields and gray-hued mountain ranges.
'So this is how it becomes clear.'
It was a sentiment that arose while the truth, which could never have been heard from the deceased while alive nor asked about, poured out unfiltered.
So why on earth had I been brought here? It was a moment that could provide an answer to her younger self, who had lived her whole life as a substitute, wondering about the fundamental cause without knowing it.
"Was the child happy?"
After a brief silence, it was the question Sasha finally opened her mouth to ask.
Mrs. Aiber stopped drinking the remaining tea and looked across at her.
"Yes. I assure you, that child lived happily and passed on, Mrs. Pinscher. Thanks to Mr. Marlborough's tireless efforts, the child finally opened her heart again. When she entered puberty, she was quite cheerful, unlike other children who worry their parents sick. Though perhaps it was because she matured early that she could remain bright."
She had lived her entire life conscious of the real one's existence, yet the real one had lived happily and died without even knowing of her existence, Sasha was told.
Far from feeling resentful, Sasha truly felt that it was a relief.
But something bubbled up from the pit of her stomach; it was an old, long-standing grievance. It was a grievance with no one left to blame now, and it was loneliness.
"Do I resemble that child much, Mrs. Aiber? You must have seen what she looked like grown to some extent."
Mrs. Aiber answered.
"No, Mrs. Pinscher. You resemble her to some degree, but well. I don't know about when she was young, but as I see you now, I don't think you look similar enough to be mistaken. She was shorter than you, and she loved playing in the sunlight, so she had tanned skin...."
Mrs. Aiber stopped speaking. And she rummaged in her bosom as if to pull out a handkerchief, but when Sasha shook her head, she respectfully placed her hands back on her lap.
Sasha was not crying. She was simply staring across with a calm face, yet Mrs. Aiber felt the urge to pull out a handkerchief anyway. Somehow, she did.
The woman looked out the window again with a face that seemed, at a glance, utterly devoid of feeling.
"I have inquired about you to some extent, Mrs. Aiber."
Sasha slowly opened her mouth and spoke.
"That you are no mere housemaid, but in fact had been in a common-law marriage with Mr. Marlborough for a long time. Since you were a foreigner of unclear origins, there must have been severe opposition to marriage. It was an even worse time than now."
"......."
Mrs. Aiber did not deny Sasha's words. She listened to her without any response.
"A life that could not take root anywhere is also one that can easily hide its traces quietly without a sound. Though I had people look for you, if you had made up your mind to hide, I would never have found you. So, I...."
...was going to ask why you revealed yourself voluntarily, when you could have spent your remaining years in peace without getting involved in such matters again.
Mrs. Aiber interrupted before Sasha could finish asking.
"Because I wanted to help you, Mrs. Pinscher. I learned of your existence after I had lost both my daughter and husband. A servant of that person came to me again. Said they would create a new identity for me. It was then that I learned of you. Out of curiosity about how that person was faring, I inquired after her, and learned that she had set up a substitute for her granddaughter and was making her act the part."
"......."
"It would be a lie to say I wasn't dumbfounded, but I told myself that was enough since a child who had been an orphan was now living with precious treatment, and I didn't ask further. However, after the trial began, news of you reached even me living in the countryside...."
Mrs. Aiber stopped speaking. Because Sasha shook her head as if asking her to stop.
Sasha did not desire pity, and Mrs. Aiber respected her wish. She closed her mouth.
She decided to change the subject.
"Mrs. Pinscher, as I said, the child lived happily her whole life and passed away. If she had overcome the lung disease that came upon her like a cold, she would have married the boy she was like childhood friends with and had children. Anyway, though she was happy all along, as if she had forgotten the wounds of the past."
Mrs. Aiber looked at Sasha with darkly lowered eyes.
"At times, that child would make a face as if she were tormented by a sense of indebtedness. At first I thought it was because of her grandmother, but she said it was absolutely not. Then that child... hesitated for a long while before showing me something. It was a secret she had hidden even from us all along."
"......."
"She said she was terribly afraid that it would fall into that person's hands and be buried. But after growing to some extent, she also said she felt scared, wondering if this was something she could dare bear. Mrs. Pinscher. It was a bag. The bag she had never let us touch when she first came here. Inside, it was full of children's clothes. And those small garments each held letters addressed to someone, and pieces of ledgers torn out page by page."
Mrs. Aiber took something out from her bosom and held it out.
Sasha received it. It seemed to be one piece of that evidence. A portion of a letter.
To be precise, it was a portion of a letter the Duke had sent to the Prince at the time.
Only after confirming it did Sasha raise her head and look at Mrs. Aiber again.
"You asked why I didn't hide away for life when I could have. As I said before, it was because I pitied you and wanted to help. But apart from that, I think I also wanted to relieve you of this... which that child held in her heart all her life and was burdened by."
Sasha merely fiddled with the edge of the old paper at Mrs. Aiber's honest confession, but soon asked carefully.
"The Duchess and Theodore knew about this."
Mrs. Aiber did not deny it.
"Theo said he wanted to leave it to the child's will. But that child died young, and it was left unresolved. And this...."
"......."
"I think this should go to you, Mrs. Pinscher."
Mrs. Aiber said calmly.
"I know you did not seek me out merely for the trial. I apologize for keeping silent for so long. However, I needed some certainty."
Mrs. Aiber reached out and took Sasha's hand without hesitation.
She did not pat her as if offering comfort. She simply held it.
"...Those who rightfully possessed the right and the judgment are already dead, and only we remain."
It was the moment Mrs. Aiber was about to reply as if to retort to Sasha's self-deprecating murmur.
Bang.
A gunshot rang out from afar, piercing the silence.