Her Family (3)

「Imperial Year 953, July 6th.

Don’t lie to me.

If everyone was eagerly waiting for me to be born, then why does everyone hate me?

Why does no one listen to me when I’m having a hard time and sad?

There’s no one here on my side.

I don’t need anything. I just want to see Mom. 」

The written words on this page were crooked and messy. As if the writer had been crying, few of the letters were smudged, making the writing more illegible. Euclid stared at the messy writing for a moment, then turned the pages of the diary. Most of the entries contained ordinary conversations about everyday life, but he no longer saw the same immature handwriting as before.

Euclid continued to turn the pages, unconsciously looking for that handwriting. It wasn’t until he saw the handwriting he was looking for did he stop flipping through the pages.

「Imperial Year 948, September 28th.

My belly is getting bigger now.

I don’t have to wait too long to see you, right?

Ah, my lovely child.

No matter what kind of child you become, please grow up healthy.

That’s enough for me. No matter what anyone says, you are the child I love.

You’ll surely be loved by everyone.

Hurry and come out. I want to show you this wonderful world. 」

「Imperial Year 955, February 15th.

I’m growing up healthy, Mom.

But unfortunately, I didn’t become a child as beloved as you wished.

Mom is a liar. The world isn’t wonderful at all.

You said it’s a wonderful world, and because I’m your beloved child, you wanted to show it to me.

But why didn’t you show it to me? Where are you, Mom?

I hate Mom for lying. Mom is a liar. 」

The handwriting had matured slightly compared to before. There was nothing but resentment written on that page. The writing was forceful that caused the back of the paper to become uneven. For a moment, Euclid stared at it blankly, then turned the page again out of habit.

However, even after flipping through to the last page, he couldn’t find the crooked handwriting he was looking for.

He closed the diary he had been reading and placed it back on the bookshelf. Then he walked out of the room. When he left the room, he went to the dining room. When he returned, the chef, who had been tidying up, looked at him.

“Oh? Young master, didn’t you just have your meal earlier?”

Euclid hesitated for a moment before speaking in a low voice.

“Uh… I suddenly felt like having some chiffon cake.”

Upon hearing this, the chef’s eyes widened.

“What’s going on? You don’t like chiffon cake very much.”

“Please.”

“Alright. Please wait a moment.”

As the chef hurried off to the kitchen, Euclid glanced around the somewhat empty dining room. Despite its spaciousness, it seemed rather desolate.

Come to think of it, it used to be quite lively here when he was younger.

Since when did it start to become so quiet?

The moment he tried to recall faint memories, a chiffon cake was placed in front of him, and the memories that were about to come to mind dissipated into the air. He gave up on trying to remember and picked up a fork, cutting a piece of chiffon cake and putting it in his mouth.

After a few bites, he stopped.

‘It doesn’t taste good.’

He didn’t like sweet things, so chiffon cake wasn’t to his liking.

“How is it?”

The chef asked with anticipation in his eyes, looking forward to his review. Euclid, however, gave his honest opinion.

“It’s not good.”

Upon hearing this, the chef’s expectant eyes deflated like a balloon losing air.

“Well, I see. But if it’s not good, why are you still eating it?”

Despite the chef’s remark, Euclid’s hand continued to reach for the chiffon cake as if he wanted to remember its taste.

“It has stomach-churning taste.”

“You’re being quite harsh.”

The chef, hurt by his harsh words, grumbled. But Euclid paid no mind to the complaint, continuing to cram cake into his mouth. As a result, his throat felt constricted, and his stomach churned as he was about to vomit at any moment.

Yes, it was all because the cake tasted bad.

***

Fabius had been feeling extremely confused lately.

As he watched Severus leave the dining room with a face full of anger, his confusion deepened. He couldn’t pinpoint where this confusion came from. To quell this strange feeling, he hurriedly went to his office and habitually grabbed some paperwork.

Work was something he could do without having to think about anything else. It was simple, but it served as his only escape. While working on the documents, his nose suddenly started to bleed, dripping onto the papers.

Am I pushing myself too hard?

He clicked his tongue, pushing the documents to the side of his desk. Then he held his nose and lifted his head up. As he stared at the ceiling, he let out a soft sigh and closed his eyes for a moment. His aide, Vanesel, was nagging him about taking a break, but he was accustomed to ignoring such comments and fell into his own thoughts.

When had it started? When did he become so obsessed with work?

In truth, he was not someone who enjoyed working. On the contrary, he hated it. After all, working kept him away from Arne.

Yes, that’s right. He really didn’t want to work at all.

However, Arne always stopped him from playing with her, insisting that he should stop being stubborn and go to work instead. She said they would have plenty of time together in the future.

That was the only lie his wife had ever told him.

‘Liar.’

He whispered silently.

If he had known that the time he could spend with her would be so short, he would have never worked. Not being able to do that was his lifelong regret.

Fabius’ life, in retrospect, was almost ideal in every way.

Born as the eldest son of a duke, he became a duke without any issues, met and married the woman he loved so much that he would give his life for her. He had two cute sons who were a mix of him and his wife. Just looking at that, his life seemed perfectly happy, without a single worry.

However, he had one small concern.

As someone who wanted a cute daughter who looked like his wife, he had this small concern. It was the kind of minor concern that any married couple might have, and even such concern was close to happiness for him.

After all, you have to have something you want in order to dream of a future where it is realized, right?

Then, one day, his wife became pregnant and gave birth to the daughter he had longed for.

“Waaaaah!”

The baby’s cry echoed loudly throughout the mansion. However, Fabius couldn’t feel joy at the sight of the child.

“Arne… Arne!”

It was because his wife died after giving birth to their daughter.

Arne was an indispensable person in the future he painted. Even as he held his pale wife, he couldn’t comprehend the situation he was in.

It was the same when they held his wife’s funeral. He saw a portrait of Arne, smiling brightly. It was a sight he had always seen, but now it was also a sight he could never see again.

He called out her name again and again with a voice that had already gone hoarse. Arne… Of course, there was no answer.

He couldn’t even remember how the funeral had proceeded. He just stood there in a daze with empty eyes. The funny thing was he didn’t even feel sad. He called out to his wife so desperately, yet he didn’t feel sad enough to shed tears.

Had he not loved Arne as much as he thought he did?

Yes, perhaps that was the case. Arne was his first love, and he had not yet experienced a second love, so he might not have truly loved Arne with all his heart.

About a week had passed since then. His daily life without Arne was quite monotonous.

He worked, he worked, and he worked some more. One day, he collapsed from working without eating. After that, he made sure to eat enough to stay alive. The sound of Vanesel’s screams and frantic behavior had been quite loud.

As he was about to eat without any particular thought on his mind, a bowl of butternut squash soup was placed in front of him. It was a soup his wife had especially liked. To be honest, he didn’t like butternut squash soup very much. However, because his wife liked it, he forced himself to eat it, and he was able to eat it just fine.

No, to be more precise, he liked the way she smiled when she saw him frowning and eating it reluctantly. She would smile brightly, making fun of him as he ate it. That’s why he had come to like the butternut squash soup.

With trembling hands, he lifted the spoon and took a sip of the soup. The familiar taste that he had often shared with his wife filled his mouth. Out of habit, he turned his head to look for his wife. Even though he knew she wasn’t there, he still turned his head, almost as if he expected her to be there.

But his wife was nowhere to be found.

Nowhere at all.

It was ridiculous to think that the emotions he had dismissed as not being love were, without a doubt, love for his wife.

Then, a baby’s cry reached his ears. It was undoubtedly the child he had longed for, yet now, just hearing that cry alone made his stomach churn.

He had thought he would be overjoyed, as if he had the whole world when the child was born, but instead, he felt like he had lost everything. It was truly ironic.

Fabius knew that his wife’s departure was not the fault of their child. But he needed to vent his resentment somewhere. That was the only way he could breathe. He had to live.

Even if there was no more hope left in life, if he were to irresponsibly end it all, what would become of his children? He had to keep living. The only reason he continued this dreadful life was solely for the sake of the children his wife left behind.

It was probably around that time that Fabius started to obsessively focus on his work.

If he was preoccupied with something, even for a moment, he could temporarily forget about his wife. Moreover, the more he worked, the stronger his family became. He believed that as the family grew, he could pass on more to his grown children. And if that happened, he trusted that one day he could look at his wife’s face with pride.

Perhaps it was a form of escape. Believing that turning away from a world where his beloved had disappeared was the only way he could survive.

Since then, Fabius had distanced himself from his children. Naturally, he also no longer saw Kilianerisa. Fabius had given up his resentment towards her, and at the same time, he had given up his love for her. Avoiding each other’s faces seemed like the best option for both of them.

However, that didn’t mean he had completely cut off all support for the child. In fact, in place for the attention he couldn’t give, he compensated it with material comforts. It was his final act of respect for his beloved wife, and it was the most he could do as a father.

But living under the same roof meant they would inevitably cross paths, even if they tried to avoid each other. Of course, it rarely happened. Perhaps once in a while, or once every few months.

Because of this, every time they met, the young child had grown significantly. As the child grew older, she became more and more similar to his wife. Small, delicate features, a slightly upturned nose, and small, plump lips. It was as if his deceased wife had reappeared before him again, as if she had traveled back in time.

But it was just a fleeting moment,

Kilianerisa resembled his wife but also did not. His wife had always been smiling, but Kilianerisa was always expressionless.

The most striking difference was in their eyes. Unlike his wife’s eyes, which were reminiscent of lush greenery, the child’s eyes exactly resembled his own, like a blazing flame.

They were like fire consuming the grass that had ultimately devoured his wife, and this stirred up the anger Fabius had suppressed for her. Because of this, the day when he mistook that child for his wife, he had to relive a horrifying experience—the hope that had risen in him plummeted to the depths of the underground.

It was as though he had lost his wife twice.

It felt like falling from heaven to hell in an instant. She had left him forever. Ironically, it was only then, as he watched his daughter becoming more like his wife, that Fabius realized this undeniable fact.