Chapter 75
“Father…”
Baron Kelton kept his eyes fixed on the window. He’d sobered up long ago. Though his leg throbbed with pain, he ignored it, refusing to respond to Felice’s call.
“As soon as this is all over… let’s go to the countryside in Duvelay. If we live there, we can have a doctor visit the house, not just go to a hospital.”
Duvelay… the countryside of his youth. But his child’s voice, speaking of returning there, no longer even carried tears. Her flat tone was as calm as ever.
He suddenly realized why she stayed by his side—he could sense it in the way she spoke. The man had meant those words for him, and him alone.
The Kelton family sword. He clenched his jaw tightly.
What meaning was there in retrieving something so useless now?
Baron Kelton’s fists balled up in frustration.
If only he’d managed to walk, even in his father’s shadow—it would have been better. But his father had been such a dazzling, brilliant man that he hadn’t even dared to approach him.
His father was remarkable, while he was pathetic.
He’d never once excelled at swordsmanship, and all the tutors he’d invited home had only shaken their heads in disappointment.
So he never received the sword that should have been his upon marriage.
But when his daughter was born, the world changed again.
Suddenly, everywhere he went, people praised his daughter, saying she looked just like her grandfather, the admiral.
He was jealous, but also proud.
She was his daughter, after all.
But when his father died, the light faded from his daughter’s eyes. In those days, he found himself thinking of his late wife constantly.
He wanted to be a pillar of strength for his daughter.
He wanted to be a father she could be proud of.
But everything fell apart in an instant. There were too many wicked people in the world, and before he knew it, he was caught in their snares—unable to escape.
It was a scam.
After his business failed, he lost an enormous amount of money. He couldn’t bear it. He lost everything, but he tried to start over.
Then one day, he won big at cards.
He was sure he’d finally found his calling. But everyone at the table turned out to be con artists. By the time Felice pleaded with him to stop, the house was already up for auction.
Even after selling everything, there was still about 10,000 francs of debt left.
“And now my daughter, with that nouveau riche Racliffe? Never! That sword means nothing!”
Alone in his hospital room, the Baron let out a harsh cry. His chest heaved with ragged breaths, but his hand—clutching Felice’s portrait—shook as violently as his tear-filled eyes.
He no longer knew whether the trembling came from the alcohol, or from his own guilt.
* * *
The next morning, the staff at the Racliffe estate gathered in small groups, buzzing about the previous night’s events.
Everyone had a different opinion.
Of course, nobody cared much about Baron Kelton’s shouting.
The real debate was about Prince Claude.
“He must really like her, don’t you think?”
“Maybe he just cares about her a lot?”
“No way, it’s obvious he likes her! Remember what happened the other day?”
One maid raised her voice, but the others were too busy chattering to listen.
“Come to think of it, what sort of lessons are they having, anyway?”
“Even the butler doesn’t seem to know.”
“Hey, did everyone forget the garden tea time from a few days ago?”
The maid cried, and only then did the others look her way.
“Yeah, he really went out of his way to look nice.”
“That’s right.”
“It was strange, suddenly having a tea party like that—and the only guest was Miss Felice. That’s pretty telling.”
“Wait… so maybe these lessons are just an excuse…?”
Another maid gasped, clamping a hand over her mouth. The others traded incredulous looks.
“But… honestly, something odd happened yesterday.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, yesterday—”
“What are you all discussing?”
Came the butler Ben’s stern voice. The maids jumped in surprise and stood up hastily.
“Uh, Butler…”
“Get back to work.”
“Yes…”
The maids hurried away.
Once the butler had made sure everyone was back to their tasks, he quietly headed upstairs.
“Miss Felice skipped breakfast… The whole house is in a stir. I’d better check on her, just in case she’s heard something distressing.”
At that very moment, Felice was curled up beneath her covers, her eyes closed.
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