Chapter 122: An Overwhelming Truth

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Just the memory of that day still made Olivia’s body tremble.

The Duchess of Piretta had gone into labor a month earlier than expected during the Duke’s absence.

The once clear skies poured with relentless rain, and the labor dragged on for two agonizing days.

When the Duke, who deeply loved his wife, canceled his plans and returned, the birthing chamber reeked of blood.

Despite being told not to enter under any circumstances, the Duke stepped inside, only to be met with the sight of a tiny, blood-covered infant and the cold, lifeless body of his wife.

“Helene… Helene. Why isn’t she breathing?”

The midwife remained silent, while Olivia, the maid who had served the Duchess since childhood, burst into tears.

“Helene! Helene!”

Searching desperately for the light that had vanished from her pale green eyes, the Duke sobbed uncontrollably, unable even to close the eyes of his deceased wife.

As if accustomed to such tragedies, the midwife broke the silence and handed the Duke the cleaned and swaddled infant.

“Hold her, my lord. She’s a beautiful little lady.”

The Duke didn’t even glance at the midwife’s offering. His gaze stayed fixed on the lifeless Hélène until the baby began wailing loudly, pulling his attention toward the source of the cries.

The Duke stared at the thick scent of blood and the faint glimpse of golden hair that resembled his own, his expression twisting in anguish.

“…A child who killed her mother is not needed.”

“!”

The midwife instinctively clutched the infant close. The Duke’s harsh words, too cruel for a newborn who hadn’t even opened her eyes yet, fell heavily from his lips.

“Get rid of her.”

Without another glance at the child, the Duke left the room. His guards pried the baby from the midwife’s arms and carried her out.

“My lord! You can’t do this! Abandoning the newborn lady like this… Helene would weep from the heavens in Abadelia!”

“If you wish to live, keep your mouth shut.”

“My lord!”

“A child born by killing her mother will not inherit Pireta.”

Olivia, her cheeks wet with tears, glared at the unyielding Duke. Just as she rushed out to retrieve the baby,

“Ah, another child is coming!”

The Duke, who had been kneeling at Helene’s side, momentarily faltered.

“What a miracle! They’re twins!”

The stunned midwife, who had been rendered speechless after the first birth, hurried to assist as a second baby began to emerge.

Unlike the first child, who had caused her mother so much suffering, the second baby came quickly into the midwife’s hands with her desperate effort.

Crying, the midwife cleaned the newborn.

“She’s a girl! A twin sister!”

When the baby didn’t cry, the midwife slapped her tiny bottom and began performing artificial respiration. The Duke stood, dazed, watching the midwife as she fought to save the infant, tears streaming down her face.

“Father… Is the baby… going to die…?”

The soft, yet urgent voice of a child echoed through the tense birthing chamber.

“Gregory.”

The Duke turned to see his young son, who had followed him in despite being told to stay outside. The child, unable to bear the escalating chaos, had stepped cautiously into the room.

“My little sibling… are they going to die…?”

The Duke staggered with a low groan, seeing his late wife in Gregory’s tearful pale green eyes.

“Adrian or Adrienne?”

“…”

“If it’s a boy, Adrian. If it’s a girl, Adrienne.”

Gregory, tears streaming down his face, approached his pale mother and grief-stricken father.

“It’s the name you and Mother decided on together…”

“Waaahhhhhh!”

The second baby’s cry suddenly filled the room, echoing loudly. Gregory ran to the midwife, who handed him the infant instead of the Duke.

The baby, who had been crying loudly, calmed down as soon as she settled in her brother’s arms, finding comfort there. Gregory, gazing at the tiny, red-faced infant who hadn’t even opened her eyes yet, finally smiled—a smile possible only because he didn’t yet understand the weight of his mother’s death.

“…Adrien.”

“Father?”

” Adrienne Piretta.”

Perhaps unable to cast away the child he had only just witnessed surviving, the Duke spoke without meeting the baby’s gaze.

It seemed that Gregory’s smile, so much like his mother Helene’s, was the final thread of reason keeping the Duke from breaking entirely.

While Olivia felt relieved that Adrien had survived, she wasted no time in running out to find the other twin.

---

“This is unbelievable.”

“I know. It’s a truly unthinkable matter. If the gods were aware, they’d surely bring down divine punishment.”

Olivia, barely able to stand, slumped into a chair and buried her face in her handkerchief.

“You know, don’t you? That I once lost a daughter of my own.”

“…”

Though of minor noble lineage, Olivia had chosen the work of a nanny—a role typically reserved for commoners—for two reasons.

First, her boundless loyalty to the Duchess of Piretta.

Second, to cope with the sorrow of having been forced to bury her child and send her off to the afterlife alone, during the same period Helene had her children.

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At the time, Olivia was halfway to losing her mind.

Her husband had died of illness before she could even share the news of her pregnancy. Her child had passed away immediately after birth. So consumed by the aura of death surrounding her, she began to believe it was her fault the Duchess had met her fate.

She burst from the birthing room and ran desperately, wresting the infant from the Duke’s guards and shouting:

“The Duke entrusted me, the Duchess’s confidant, with this task!”

The guards, clearly uneasy about carrying out such a grim order, handed the child over without resistance.

Olivia debated whether to return to the birthing room or hide the baby elsewhere.

Though Gregory’s intervention and the miraculous survival of the second twin had softened the Duke’s heart temporarily, she doubted his mercy would extend to this other child.

Ultimately, she hid the infant at her own home on the outskirts of the manor and bided her time. She brought in a wet nurse to help, raising the child as if she were her own daughter.

However, even as the infant’s red, wrinkled skin grew soft and fair, and her bright green eyes—so much like Helene’s—finally opened to meet the world, the Duke made no move to find her.

As Olivia nursed Adrien, she often wept.

Every time the baby’s innocent eyes met hers, Olivia would recall the twin left behind and silently cry out to Helene Piretta.

One day, while Olivia was carefully watching the Duke for any sign of change:

“The guards told me you planned to kill the child.”

“…”

“Did you?”

She had hoped the Duke would instead say he had come to his senses and wanted to bring his daughter home.

“You made sure the child was dead, I assume?”

But those cold, heartless words shattered her final shred of hope.

“…What choice did I have? The Duchess is gone, and now you are my master.”

She answered, fearing the Duke might insist on verifying the truth. To protect the child, she temporarily entrusted her to the neighboring household.

As expected, that night, the Duke’s guards came to check. To deceive them, Olivia unearthed the coffin of her deceased daughter and presented it as if it were the twin’s remains.

As the guards departed, bearing the tiny coffin away, she sobbed and clutched her chest.

“From now on, you are my daughter, Blie,” she vowed.

Thus, the name of her late child, Blie, was given to the twin.

---

Stunned by the unbelievable story, I sank heavily into my seat. No one else in the room could bring themselves to speak.

“When the Duchess was alive, the Duke rarely left the estate. But after her death, he seldom remained. I resented him for that. As just a mere nanny, I sometimes dared to speak up against him because I was one of the Duchess’s people, who had witnessed everything.”

“If you had told him later that Blie was alive, do you think Father would have killed her?”

“The midwife who delivered the twins died in an accident soon after. I’m convinced it was no accident. I was terrified of the Duke. Even if he later welcomed Blier back to the manor, I believed all he could offer her were cold stares and pain.”

“But it might not have been like that. The way Father looked at me wasn’t like that.”

“That’s because he saw Helene in your frail state. I hoped for you to grow strong, but a part of me also wanted you to remain delicate, like a fragile flower. I was afraid that if you ever grew healthy, you’d receive those cold stares from him.”

“Then how did Blie survive?”

I finally voiced the question that had been gnawing at me. It felt like a thorn lodged in my throat.

“I raised her in secret at the edge of the estate for a while, then sent her to live with relatives in Elacon. I longed to stay with her, but I also had the duty to care for you, Adrien. I visited her during my leave whenever I could.”

“So that’s why the investigations always traced her back to Elacon.”

Lord Renes interjected with a sigh, placing a steadying hand on my trembling shoulder, though I couldn’t stop shaking.

“One day, I heard that Blie had run away. I was about to rush to Elacon when she turned up at my old house near the estate’s edge.”

Tears welled in Olivia’s eyes again as she recalled the day.

“It was around the time Adrienne’s engagement was making waves across Ronta. She came with several newspapers in her arms and began asking me endless questions about you and the family I worked for. And then I… foolishly…”

Her voice broke into a mournful sob.

“Foolishly, I told her everything. I wanted to beg for her forgiveness for not being there, even after deciding to make her my daughter. She left again that day, but not to return to her relatives. Still, she occasionally sent letters saying she was in Elacon.”

As Olivia wiped her tear-streaked face with her soaked handkerchief, someone else broke the silence.

“That runaway… I think she ended up with me.”

All eyes turned to Rossi, who had spoken quietly but with certainty.

“Now it’s starting to make sense. The blonde young lady, the reason you were able to open that mana stone coffin.”

Rossi forced a slight smile, her expression somewhat relieved.

“It’s clear now that Blie infused her magic into that mana stone. But magic like that is innate, something you’re born with.”

Still in shock, I stared blankly at her, my gaze heavy with disbelief.

“The reason you were frail, and why Blie’s magic was so unusually powerful.”

“Powerful magic? Are you saying Blie wasn’t just some random spellcaster, but someone with truly extraordinary magic?”

“The mystery is solved. Pireta’s domain used to be the capital during Ronta’s time as an ancient kingdom. These days, there aren’t many people with magic, but the land itself, once a magical nation, holds a power that occasionally manifests in a few individuals. Someone like Blie. The Pireta bloodline carries traces of the ancient royal blood, increasing the likelihood. But since you two are twins, you were supposed to share that power as you grew up together.”

“Then…”

“That magic was originally meant to be divided between you and Blie. Because you didn’t get your share, you grew frail, while Blie overflowed with strength. Even though your souls were switched, the magic Blie infused into the mana stone recognized you as its rightful owner. That’s why the coffin opened for you.”