* * *
“That concludes today’s meeting.”
The cabinet meeting ended.
Headrin rose from his seat with a leisurely grace and left the conference room with Ruth. The first thing that caught his eye upon stepping into the hall was the window.
The day was overcast. Judging by the ominous, heavy clouds, it would start pouring soon.
Noticing his gaze, Ruth remarked, “The weather seemed to be clearing up, but it looks like we’re in for some spring rain.”
Headrin looked out at the sprawling Imperial Palace. Though obscured by trees, he knew the Empress’s Palace lay beyond. And, in all likelihood, Blair was there right now.
*A person from the County Lorellain arrived, someone from the Imperial Palace visited the county yesterday, and today, the Empress Dowager summoned Her Grace.*
Before they were married, he had believed that Katrina cherished her daughter dearly.
Blair had always been draped in the finest silks and jewels, smiling brightly amidst those who sang her praises. Back then, he hadn’t known that appearances were mere camouflage.
He recalled the image of Blair at the first banquet after their marriage, and the scenes at Katrina’s birthday. The reality of their mother-daughter relationship was fractured and cold—a far cry from what he had once imagined.
He could see now that Katrina’s attitude toward her daughter was warped, and Blair’s response to her mother was equally stifled. While he couldn’t judge everything based on those brief, fragmentary glimpses, he knew with certainty that their bond was far from typical.
Suddenly, the image of Blair at the banquet surfaced in his mind.
He remembered how she had spoken with a composed, soft voice, even while her hands trembled violently beneath the table.
“……”
Lost in thought as he walked down the corridor, Headrin stopped.
It had already begun to rain.
* * *
Blair, having finished her conversation with Katrina, stepped out of the Empress’s Palace only to be greeted by an unexpected obstacle.
Spring rain.
She stood at the entrance, stalled by the sudden downpour. A maid from the Empress’s Palace spotted her and immediately hurried through the rain to fetch a carriage. Because Blair had left in such a rush after her confrontation with Katrina, she hadn’t arranged for transport.
The maid watched her with concern. “My Lady, the air is still quite cold. Please, wait inside.”
“It’s alright. It will be here soon. I’d rather breathe the fresh air.”
Refusing the offer, Blair stared blankly at the drizzling gray, waiting for the carriage.
*What will change if I keep digging? Is that dead woman going to come back to life?*
Katrina wasn’t just refusing to acknowledge the truth of that incident from ten years ago; she was terrified of it. If her story were the unvarnished truth, she would have nothing to fear.
The moment he saw her like that, he had finally faced a possibility he had been ignoring for a decade.
*Perhaps my mother used me.*
*Perhaps even that day’s accident, and perhaps even my very life, were merely tools to her.*
At the same time, the face of the mother who so resembled her own began to look horrifying.
*How could she? How could Mother do that to me?*
Of course, it was only a possibility. It might not be the truth. It might be nothing more than her own desperate rationalization—a refusal to accept the reality that she was unloved.
She had thought that having Aziel was enough. That thought still remained. But what was this hollow, gnawing emptiness in her heart?
This feeling of being left entirely alone in the world.
*……Aziel.*
Blair stroked her stomach, remembering the face of the child who used to laugh and coo at her.
*My baby.*
Since there were no traces of the child left in the world she had returned to, she touched the womb that had once carried him. But her flat stomach, feeling nothing but the warmth of her own body, only deepened the void.
If she could meet Aziel again—if she could hold the only family who shared her blood—this emptiness that threatened to swallow her whole might finally vanish. These agonizing emotions would become nothing.
She had believed that as long as she saw her child, trusting only her, she could overcome anything.
Now that the child was gone, she knew she could not simply be “okay.”
As the rainy landscape filled Blair’s hollow violet eyes, a carriage pulled up in front of the Empress’s Palace.
The family crest on the door depicted the wings of a divine beast.
It was the Del Marc crest. It was the same as the one she had arrived in, yet not the same carriage.
The door opened, and a familiar face stepped out.
Headrin walked toward her with an umbrella. Blair stared at him, dazed. They had argued. He suspected her, precisely because she was Katrina’s daughter. He was likely suspecting her at this very moment—wondering what they had discussed, whether she had been swayed by her mother, or if, perhaps, she had even killed her past self.
Yet, the moment he appeared, there were finally two people in her world again.
Headrin walked with a pace that was neither slow nor fast, stopping just in front of her. Blair looked up at him, her eyes wide with disbelief. Under the umbrella, his gaze was as cold and steady as ice.
After examining her for a moment, he reached out a hand.
“Let’s go.”
Blair alternated her gaze between his large, extended hand and his face, then tentatively placed her own hand in his.
He enveloped her fingers, gently pulling her beneath the shelter of the umbrella, tilting it to ensure she remained dry.
Blair climbed into the carriage. Ruth moved to the one she had arrived in, and they departed.
Silence descended within the carriage.
Blair glanced at Headrin sideways. He merely stared out the window at the raindrops streaming down the glass, silent.
*I expected him to ask about the conversation with Mother.*
She would have answered nonchalantly if he had. This heavy silence unsettled her; she feared he was nursing his suspicions in the dark.
Eventually, Blair spoke first.
“Mother… she seems to have planted someone in the residence. She knew I was consulting with Baroness Sionel.”
Only then did Headrin shift his gaze from the window to Blair. There was no surprise on his face, as if he had already anticipated it.
“And….”
Answering a question he hadn’t even asked, Blair hesitated, stopping before she could finish. If she told him that Katrina had warned her to stop seeking her memories, it would be equivalent to informing Headrin that she might have been involved in Esmeralda’s death.
How would he react if he realized that? He must have suspected the Empress Dowager, but to shift from circumstantial evidence to a realization bordering on certainty was an entirely different matter.
Yet, Blair pressed on.
“……And she told me to stop looking for my memories.”
She had decided to find the truth, no matter what, and he was the partner with whom she would uncover it.
“Of course, regardless of Mother’s wishes, I will certainly—”
“I know.”
A calm, deep voice cut her off. The gaze he leveled at her was no longer full of suspicion or interrogation.
“You don’t have to explain any further to me.”
Blair looked at him, confused. “Then why….”
The question went unasked: *If you aren’t suspicious, why did you come to get me?*
Instead of answering, Headrin looked down at her pale face and spotted a single, small raindrop clinging to her hair.
As his hand approached, Blair reflexively closed her eyes.
He brushed the drop from her temple with his index finger. His eyes lingered on her for a moment before he replied in a dry, low voice.
“Just because it was raining.”
* * *
“Did you call for me, Your Grace?”
That night, Headrin summoned Caligo to his office.
“Caligo, track the Empress Dowager’s movements for the time being.”
The day the accident happened, Blair had gone to the Empress’s Palace secretly, without telling Katrina. Yet, Katrina had claimed she heard the news from a maid she had planted in the Imperial Princess’s Palace—a maid who had even testified to it.
Katrina had used that fact to dismiss the suspicions against her, arguing: *If I had truly intended to kill Esmeralda, would I have committed such a deed while knowing my daughter was at the Empress’s Palace?*
She had even gone to the Temple that night to save a critically injured Blair.
Until now, Headrin had believed without a doubt that Katrina was the culprit. He thought the maid’s testimony was a lie and that Blair was merely pretending to have lost her memories to cover her mother’s sin.
But there was one more possibility everyone had missed—an ugly truth no one wanted to admit about a parent’s love.
*The possibility that she used her own daughter’s life as a shield.*
Blair likely hadn’t realized it. She probably never imagined her mother would be so cold-blooded.
*No, she simply didn’t want to think about it.*
Because if that were the truth, she would not have the courage to accept it.
Once he considered that, he hesitated. He questioned whether he should let her find those memories at all.
Still, he had no intention of stopping now. Whatever the truth was, he had to know. Why his aunt had to die. Why the Del Marc name had to suffer such a stigma. Even if Blair were to be shattered in the process, it was a truth she had to bear.
*In any case, I cannot rely solely on her memories.*
Having reached that conclusion, Headrin continued.
“I’ve thoroughly stirred up that woman’s nerves. If she is the culprit, she will double-check everything out of anxiety, wondering if there’s anything she might have missed.”
“…….”
“Keep a close watch on all the witnesses involved at that time, and report to me if you find anything suspicious.”
Caligo’s eyes sharpened. He bowed his head, his face grave.
“I will obey your command.”