Theor drifted into a sudden deep slumber, his eyes firmly closed. In sleep, his face seemed serene and relaxed.
"The child longs for his mother," Astelle softly remarked, reaching for an old teddy bear that had rolled near the chair.
"Indeed, even at a young age, the absence is deeply felt," Astelle added pensively.
Kaizen turned his attention to Theor, peacefully asleep. He knew from Vellian that the boy's mother had been a maid, Sigmund's beloved, who had to leave due to her lower status. It was a cruel custom of the nobility to sever such ties based on lineage, something that troubled Kaizen deeply.
He gently ran his hand through Theor's hair, feeling the fine strands between his fingers. The innocent child, caught in the midst of such societal rules, was undeniably at a loss without his parents.
As Kaizen tenderly stroked Theor's head, he asked with a tinge of regret, "Does the child miss his parents a lot?"
Astelle seemed to look towards him, but when Kaizen turned, she was gently placing the old teddy bear on the chair. In a soft tone, she replied, "Sometimes I wonder too because Theor never met his parents."
An air of quiet lingered in the room, the crackling fireplace casting flickering shadows on the walls. Astelle's face appeared impassive, almost like a stone statue, exuding an air of loneliness that struck Kaizen deeply. He couldn't fathom her thoughts, but he saw a parallel between Astelle's situation and Theor's, both without the warmth of parents, friends, or kin.
Living in a desolate countryside, Astelle seemed to channel her care and affection toward Theor, perhaps out of an absence of love and attachment in her own life. Her solitary figure in the dim room tugged at Kaizen's heart, leaving him with a sense of melancholy for her loneliness.
Kaizen carefully cradled Theor, ensuring he wouldn't stir, and softly suggested, "I'll take him to the bedroom. You can rest here." With Theor in his arms, he left.
Later, as dawn approached, Astelle woke up. Lighting a candle, she checked her wrist for the red spots, finding no traces. Retrieving a hidden bottle of medicine, she quietly left for the hallway.
Alone in the dim corridor, she entered Theor's room. Blin, the dog, stirred upon her arrival. Astelle hushed the dog and approached Theor, asleep beneath a blanket. Holding the medicine bottle, she carefully put it into Theor's sleeping eyes.
Theor stirred, his murmurs indicating a restless sleep. Astelle reassured him, gently speaking his name. He briefly frowned, then slowly opened his eyes, glancing at Astelle before drifting back to sleep. A fleeting glimpse revealed his clear blue eyes beneath the lids.
• 🍁 •
Astelle fully recovered, the spots fading without a trace. Kaizen lingered at the castle for two more days, ensuring Astelle's complete healing. Only after receiving assurances from the doctor did the emperor's party depart for Denz Castle.
The journey lasted three more days, finally unveiling the grandeur of Denz Castle before Astelle. Towering stone structures and a magnificent garden surrounded the main palace-the second imperial residence in the east.
Carriages, one carrying the emperor and his entourage, entered through the main gate, while Astelle's carriage navigated through the lush gardens toward the eastern section of the castle.
"Lady, this way," the guide directed Astelle.
The path led to a splendid villa on the palace's west side. It stood as a single-story structure adorned with a vast garden, meticulously and elegantly fashioned to complement the ancient palace.
Walking alongside Theor, the young attendant leading the way glanced at Astelle, his expression fraught with unease.
"I apologize, Madam," he murmured.
"What's troubling you?" Astelle inquired.
"I... I fear I haven't been serving the Marquis adequately."
The young servant expressed his regret to Astelle, confessing that the Marquis consistently insisted on him leaving. Despite the Marquis' desire for solitude, the servant tried to cater to his needs, but the lack of interaction hindered proper care. He apologized awkwardly, attributing the Marquis' prolonged recovery to his own shortcomings.
Astelle fell silent for a moment, clearly understanding why her grandfather repeatedly dismissed the servant. It was evident that while the Marquis wasn't physically unwell, he required attentive care.
Observing the exchange between the servant and Astelle, Theor, holding Astelle's hand, expressed surprise at the situation.
Observing the interaction, Theor, holding Astelle's hand, appeared surprised by the situation.
"Aunt Astelle, is grandfather sick?"
"No, grandfather is fine now."
"Really?"
"Yes, he said he was healed."
Astelle swiftly comforted Theor before addressing the young servant.
"It is not your fault. My grandfather doesn't like having unfamiliar people around. It seems he felt uncomfortable with someone constantly by his side."
Her grandfather had likely struggled pretending to be ailing despite being physically healthy for the past few days.
Astelle smiled reassuringly at the servant.
"From now on, I'll be caring for my grandfather so you don't have to worry about it."
"Yes... thank you, Lady."
The servant expressed profound gratitude as Astelle reassured him and offered assistance with his duties. As they concluded their conversation, they reached the door.
He knocked and pushed the door open, leading them into the room where the Marquis lay in bed, roused by the sound.
"Grandpa!" Theor rushed to embrace his grandfather.
Astelle approached, waiting to join the reunion. She possessed the elegant traits and refined appearance inherited from her maternal lineage, distinctly different from the Carlenberg features. Her cousin, Sigmund, shared this similar charming visage when he was younger.
Her grandfather exuded an air of wisdom and warmth, blending an aura of both a soldier aristocrat and a friendly gentleman. Despite this commanding presence, Astelle harbored affection for him, stemming from childhood admiration. She often clandestinely corresponded with her maternal family, keeping the connection discreet from her father's watchful eyes.
As Theor buried his face in his grandfather's arms, he lifted his head with concern.
"Grandpa, are you sick?"
"No, my little one, I'm perfectly fine," the Marquis replied with a smile, tenderly stroking Theor's hair. Astelle approached the bedside.
"I'm sorry for being late... Wasn't it very difficult?"
"I was well taken care of, so it wasn't too uncomfortable," he reassured her.
Astelle remarked on the challenge of pretending illness when not actually sick. Her paternal grandfather, the former Duke of Reston during Emperor Gilbert's reign, had been a capable man, yet prone to feigning illness during political unrest.
The Marquis, with a hint of a frown, expressed, "I struggled to shoo away the young servant as he persistently offered me medicines."
"What did you do with them?" Astelle inquired.
"I poured them into the bathroom and occasionally tossed them into that flower bed." The Marquis gestured towards the window on the wall.
In the stylishly decorated bedroom, a large glass window overlooked a garden teeming with flowers.
"But why are you so late? What happened?"
"That..."