Episode 103
The sun set quickly, and dawn arrived just as swiftly. In the early morning shrouded in deep twilight, Rowina boarded the prepared carriage. After her, Killian, holding Demian in his arms, climbed into the opposite seat.
As soon as the door closed and the carriage set off, Rowina removed the stifling robes covering her face and body. She had worn them to avoid any potential danger and gossip.
She reached out to bring the soundly sleeping Demian to her side, but Killian, who had already made the child a pillow on his own lap, changed the subject.
“Anywhere uncomfortable or in pain?”
“I’m fine.”
Contrary to her answer, Rowina’s complexion was haggard. Her eyelids were swollen from crying heavily yesterday, and having stayed up all night staring at Demian’s sleeping face, the area beneath her eyes was dark.
“Then get some sleep. I’ll wake you later.”
It seemed he was referring to the point where Cedric was to join them. Trying to close her eyes as he suggested, Rowina barely lifted her heavy eyelids. She saw Killian gently stroking her son’s head with careful hands. He was as calm and expressionless as ever, yet for some reason, he looked as if he was crying.
“……How was it?”
Instead of answering, Killian, who had been staring intently at Demian, raised his gaze. Looking into those blue eyes, Rowina’s lips moved slightly.
“When you first saw Demian, who had been so cold. When you realized he was your son.”
She suddenly wanted to ask. Because this was the end—between father and son, and between her and him. Perhaps if a long time passed, the grown Demian might seek him out once, but that was a distant future. And it had nothing to do with her. She had resolved never to meet Killian again until death. Last night’s kiss had been a sudden accident, and she had no desire to feel such an impulse again.
“How did you feel?”
When silence was the only response, she asked again, and only then did Killian open his mouth heavily.
“It was strange.”
“What was?”
“It felt like I was seeing myself as a child.”
The black hair and blue eyes. The face was certainly his own, but beyond the appearance, everything was different. Unlike him, who had been expressionless and cold since childhood, Demian was full of energy and smiles, and above all, he looked happy. The moment their eyes met, an inexplicable shiver crept over his entire body, gripping him tight.
He had heard that due to a strained household and weak health, the child was always on medication, so it was a wonder how that could be.
The reason was Rowina. She was a woman of such strong and upright character that even after being cruelly abandoned by a man, she bore and raised his child. Even though the child, born barely surviving death’s door, looked exactly like that man, she did not project the man onto the child. Instead, she loved him purely as her own child, her only son, a gentle and kind woman. That was her son.
Relief mingled with guilt, gratitude, and a sense of sin crashed down upon his head like boulders. One by one, they seemed to crush him. In the awkward silence, Killian spoke slowly.
“Thank you.”
“…….”
No answer came back. Green pupils stared fixedly into his own eyes, as if trying to read his thoughts. Gradually, he raised the corners of his mouth. If this was the last time, he hoped her memory of him would be a smiling one.
“For everything you have given Demian. And for everything you have given me, thank you.”
It was the first time she had heard such words. No one had ever said that to her. She had endured harrowing times to birth and raise her son with difficulty. Even Harriet, who had been her strength by her side, had only said it was hard work and that she had suffered.
“Demian is my son. So you don’t need to thank me for that. As for you…….”
She had wanted to answer calmly, but the more she spoke, the more choked up she became. It felt as if someone was gripping her throat. Closing her mouth for a moment to catch her breath, her eyes were continually drawn to the fading smile etched onto her retinas.
“I received sufficient compensation from you. I was your ‘mistress,’ after all.”
“No.”
Killian denied firmly, then continued softly.
“I was a fool not to know. You were never just a mistress to me.”
“…….”
“You taught me what happiness was. To be grateful for small things, to thank restaurant staff, to love and cherish small and fragile animals—all of it.”
As he listed them one by one, Rowina’s lips trembled. Her eyes burned and her nose stung. Unable to bear it, she turned her head sharply toward the window. Watching her profile, Killian finished.
“The way to love, the way to be loved, the way to forgive, the way to be forgiven.”
“…….”
“So thank you. You are the woman I am most grateful to.”
They were merely a few words, yet all her past sorrows and pent-up grievances melted away together. In the end, tears streamed down her pale cheeks. Killian reached out and carefully wiped Rowina’s tears with his thumb. Slowly, Rowina faced him again.
“I hope you live well.”
“……I will.”
“With Demian, without a worry in the world.”
“……Don’t worry.”
“I won’t.”
Just as Rowina’s pupils trembled at Killian’s bright smile, the carriage gradually slowed, and the coachman announced their arrival in a loud voice. It was in front of a small shop. The carriage was pulled up so close that one couldn’t see who was getting in or out from the outside.
Killian, who had closed the curtains, instructed before opening the carriage door.
“Pull the robe back over you. The child too.”
Cedric’s carriage was on the opposite side of the shop. After first handing the sleeping Demian into the carriage, Killian finally extended his hand to Rowina.
“Rowina.”
After glancing between the two men for a moment, Rowina took his hand and climbed into the carriage. Just before the door closed, she heard Killian whisper.
“Stay healthy. Forget everything.”
In the moment she wondered if she had heard wrong, the carriage departed.
“Thank goodness he sent you off willingly. ……Rowina?”
Cedric, who had confirmed that Demian and Rowina were safe, sighed in relief, but Rowina, her gaze fixed on the rear window, answered belatedly.
“Sorry. What did you say?”
“……It’s nothing. I think it would be better to close the curtains.”
“……Yes.”
Rowina, who had belatedly come to her senses, sat up straight. Cedric closed the carriage curtains.
* * *
After sending off the carriage on the opposite side first, the carriage that returned also set off immediately. Its destination was the same as Rowina’s—the port. Since the enemy would know they had secured passage on a ship, it was best to head in the same direction at first.
In the dim carriage with its curtains drawn, Killian slowly took out a cigar and clamped it between his teeth. It was the tobacco he had quit for a long time after learning of Demian’s existence and approaching the child. He had started again after Rowina fled on their wedding day, but it had been a while since the last one. Lighting it with a match and taking a deep drag, thick smoke filled the carriage. The carriage, which had been galloping without restraint, came to a sudden halt as it entered a dark alley.
“Stop right there!”
“Neigh!”
Startled by the man who suddenly blocked the way, the horses reared up and stopped abruptly. Surprised by the blue gun barrel, the coachman raised both hands and let go of the reins.
Tom, who had aggressively overwhelmed the coachman, flung open the motionless carriage door. At the same time, his eyes met Killian’s, who had stubbed out the cigar in the ashtray. In the empty carriage, the flustered Tom demanded.
“Where’s your woman? Where’s your son?”
“Unfortunately, they are not here. They left first.”
“Wh-what!”
“Grab him!”
While Tom faltered at the unexpected situation, Jenok, who had been lying in ambush, shouted at the guards. Three guards rushed at the man the moment the order fell, instantly dropping the gun Tom held and pinning him to the floor.
“Ugh!”
“How dull.”
It happened in an instant. Killian stepped down from the carriage and lifted the face of Tom, who was slammed into the dirt ground, with one hand.
“You bastard!”
“The bastard son of Count Sussex.”
“That’s right! I am the son of the man you killed!”
“You certainly have his eyes.”
“What shall we do?”
Jenok asked quietly to Killian, who turned Tom’s face this way and that as if observing him. Dusting off his hands and standing up, Killian jerked his chin toward the carriage.
“Tie him up for now and throw him into the carriage. We take him to the mansion.”
“Yes?”
Jenok’s eyes widened at the unexpected answer. He had expected an order to kill him immediately without a trace, but the response was more moderate than he had thought.
“A-understood.”
Jenok answered belatedly and shoved Tom, whose hands and feet were tightly bound, into the carriage. As Jenok was about to step inside after Killian, who had climbed back into the carriage, cold words stopped him.
“Follow behind.”
“But, it’s dangerous…….”
He couldn’t finish his sentence. The sound of the carriage door closing with a thud cut off Jenok’s words.
The coachman, having gathered his wits, took the reins again. The direction the horses turned was back toward the mansion they had left.
In the rattling carriage, Tom, with his arms and legs bound, glared at Killian with eyes full of hatred.
“Why aren’t you killing me?”
“Who knows.”
Killian answered perfunctorily and took out a second cigar. Tom gritted his teeth, bloodshot eyes glaring.
“Ah, is that it? Because I’m a bastard? Because getting your hands dirty with my blood is too filthy?”
“…….”
“Of course. Your Grace the noble Duke would not dirty his hands with a bastard like me or your son…….”
“Do you know about Jenok?”
At the sudden question, Tom stopped talking.
“What do you mean?”
“Jenok is the bastard son of the actress who was my father’s mistress—no, his lover.”
It was a secret he had never revealed to anyone. Not even to himself. Looking at Tom’s gaping mouth in shock, Killian took a deep drag of the cigar.
“I tried to find him and kill him, but instead I saved him from dying in the slums. I don’t know what whim struck me then.”
It had started with petty sympathy, curiosity, and a desire for revenge against his father. He had intended to use Jenok like a limb and then reveal the truth and kill him once he became useless. But in the end, he couldn’t do it.
“Was Count Sussex a good father to you?”
At the abrupt question, Tom blinked his eyes, dazed. With no answer forthcoming, Killian drew his conclusion.
“Probably not. Judging by the state of you.”
It was a bland statement, but the emotions hidden within were complex. In the deepest part of Tom’s chest, shame and a sense of inferiority welled up, though he couldn’t know what that emotion was. He had so desperately wanted to be loved but had never been loved. Thus, he had thought that if he at least succeeded in revenge, his father would acknowledge him from heaven; his own wretchedness was pathetic. At the same time, rage surged. Just in case, he had a homemade bomb hidden deep within his clothes. One press of a button and it would explode. It was the desperate last resort he had prepared to self-destruct at the final moment. Whether he was tortured to death or died now…….
Tom took a deep breath and threw his body toward the floor with all his strength.
“Die!”