TKMLTE 93

CHAPTER 93

Translator: Rae

***

I’ve Come, Father.

The carriage had brought her to the place she hadn’t visited since her father’s funeral. Stepping down, Whitney found herself at the family cemetery, where her ancestors lay at rest.

The clear sky stretched over an expanse of green meadows. As the wind swept through, waves of grass rippled in its wake. The soft rustling of blades breaking against the breeze lingered in her ears. It was a beautiful sight, yet Whitney’s expression remained sombre as she gazed upon it.

The tombstones stood in a row behind the grassland. Her head turned toward the one at the very end. Even without being told, he felt like he could tell from afar where her father was buried.

 

“Go ahead. I’ll stay here.”

Whitney nodded at Cheston's words and slowly set out. Every time she approached the place where her father rested, her heart sank to the bottom.

Thud, thud. It had been so long since she last faced this that her mind was tangled with what to say. She felt like crying, but perhaps because she had already wept her heart out on the way here, she felt a strange sense of relief instead.

Her eyes were still red, and the tip of her nose ached, but she was grateful that she could finally face her father properly. It was far too late, but at least now, she could let go of some of the guilt and look him in the eye…

As she passed through the field and stepped further in, wildflowers bloomed in abundance. Swaying in the breeze, they seemed to greet her. The faint scent brushing past her noce was pleasant.

Whitney greeted her father with a smile.

The longing she had buried deep inside surged forward as if it would reach her father at last. The warm summer sunlight shone brightly, as though comforting her. For a moment, she felt as if she were seeing an illusion. She caught a fleeting glimpse of her father—arms outstretched, smiling warmly at her. Whitney halted in her tracks, her breath catching in her throat.

She missed him so much that she wanted to run to him and hug him.

Whitney stood in silence for a long time, unable to speak, gazing intently at her father’s tombstone. Then, slowly, she reached out and brushed away the pollen that had settled there.

Whitney struggled to say a word.

“I’ve come.”

How could it have taken her so long to say just those few words? Whitney’s chest rose and fell deeply. Then, without hesitation, she wrapped her arms tightly around the tombstone.

The person she missed—again and again, with an ache that never faded. Yet, she had lacked the courage to come sooner. Regret passed heavily upon her as she begged for her father’s forgiveness.

I'm sorry for being too late. I missed you.

***

Maurice could not accept the result of the trial. She whispered quietly as Judge Renoto passed by.

"If Her Highness the Queen knows, she won’t let you off.”

“Watch your mouth. Where do you get off being so flippant?”

Judge Renoto glanced at Maurice and tried to pass her, she shouted and grabbed his collar.

“At least call the Her Highness the Queen. If not, then His Highness Prince Carl will do! Otherwise, I might just cause a scene. Once they find out what I’m holding, you’ll be in jeopardy of your position as the Supreme Judge.”

Maurice smirked wickedly at the judge. The judge glared at her while absentmindedly stroking his beard, then, turned on his heel and walked away without any words.

Seeing those violet eyes, he had no doubt that if he refused, Maurice would surely cause trouble. He instructed the investigator on his way out to send an urgent message to the royal family and sighed.

"I'll send word, but don't get your hopes up. Someone like you isn’t the kind of person they’d bother meeting.”

"We'll see about that."

She looked up and smiled. The royal family would definitely send someone. The queen knew what she had.

And soon after, the royal family really sent someone. They wore cloaks, and although she had no idea who they were, they were clearly high-ranking officials judging by the fact that they covered their faces. Renoto looked confused and led them to where Maurice was.

‘D*mn, I don’t really know what’s going on.’

When the door opened, Maurice greeted them with a big smile. Seeing her face, Renoto felt a storm of emotions rise within him.

When the door to the visiting room closed, Maurice grabbed the person who had come to see her and sobbed. But the person whose hand was being held ruthlessly shook it off.

"What do you think you’re doing?”

After the cloak was removed, the one revealed was none other than Carl. He wiped his hands with a handkerchief with a displeased expression. Maurice couldn’t bear the weight of his gaze and turned her head away.

"Your Highness shouldn’t do this to me."

“You’re ridiculous. Why should I defend a  criminal?"

"It's simple. I’m carrying Your Highness’ child."

Maurice’s words made Carl’s expression harden. She knew the queen wouldn’t tell him, yet a sense of betrayal still pierced through her.

"Her Highness the Queen knew. Therefore, she promised to get me out safely. But if you abandon me like this, I won’t just sit back and do nothing.”

“...What? Are you threatening me with my child?”

“I see no reason why I couldn’t. I’ll tell everyone the truth—that I’m carrying Your Highness’ child!”

She started laughing like a lunatic.

***

Even after quite some time had passed, Cheston remained there, standing silently as he waited for her. He didn’t move, patiently holding his place until Whitney composed herself and returned.

As the sunset faded into twilight, she finally retraced her steps back to Cheston. His heart ached at the sight of her reddened eyes and the lingering flush on the tip of her rose. But when he noticed the faint smile spreading across her lips, he felt a sense of relief wash over him.

"Thank you."

He even liked the shy greeting she offered.

"I didn't do anything, so I don't think I deserve to hear that.”

Now that the trial was over, there was nothing left for her to worry about. He only hoped that Witney would no longer have to grieve. If Maurice hadn’t received a proper sentence, she would not have been able to visit the duke’s estate at all.

 

A life sentence felt too lenient—forced labor or even execution would have been more fitting—but the Chief Presiding Judge seemed too cautious to go that far. This would have to be enough.

'I threatened the Chief Presiding Judge, but it was a justifiable act.'

The thought that she had never once been able to meet the late Duke of Orléans weighed heavily on his heart. Perhaps, at first, it had been guilt that held her back—but later, it was likely her mother who had kept her away.

All this time, she had believed him to be d*ad because of her. That guilt must have eaten away at her from within. He couldn’t fully understand her pain, but in some way, he thought he might grasp a part of it.

“You should go home today and get some rest. I think I have somewhere to go."

Cheston spotted Aaron bowing in the distance and gently ushered Whitney into the carriage. To reassure her, he even smiled and waved as she departed.

Only after the carriage disappeared from his sight did Cheston finally turn to Aaron and give him a subtle nod.

"What's going on?"

“I saw the member of the royal family going to the court. They seem to be trying to make contact with Maurice.”

“They wouldn’t go this far just for my sake. I can’t help but wonder—what kind of card are they holding to make them take this sort of action?”

He thought he could shake the queen if he could get his hands on that card.

***

Whitney returned to the duke’s estate.

“Thank you for your hard work. Welcome."

A smile spread across her face as she returned to the warmth of home and the people waiting for her with open hearts.

"I'm back.”

The maid quickly took Whitney’s hat, her face bright with a cheerful smile. She chattered excitedly about the delicious meal she had prepared, likely in an effort to lift Whitney’s spirits, worried she might still be feeling down.

"By the way! Your Grace have a guest!”

“...Guest?”

"Ta-da! Isn’t it surprising?”

"Oh, my God, Rene! And Sir Zegmon. How did you get here?"

“I’m sorry for coming without notice. They were recruiting knights at the duke’s estate, and since my brother was applying, I decided to come along. Then I thought I might as well pay my respects, but Your Grace wasn’t here, so I ended up waiting.”

"I'm sorry. My sister said she wanted to come with me."

Sir Zegmon wore an apologetic expression, worried that his actions might have been rude. Whitney, however, smiled reassuringly and gently took Rene’s hand, as if to put him at ease.

"Today was one of those days when I wished for someone to welcome me. I’m glad you came.”

Sheila smiled at Whitney and led them to the room where she would be staying. Lindsey went to the kitchen to start preparing dinner.

Entering her room to change, Whitney closed the door behind her. For a moment, she simply stood there, listening to the sound of laughter filling the duke’s estate. She closed her eyes briefly, then opened them again, letting the warmth of the moment sink in.

Starting tomorrow, many words will be exchanged. Perhaps even the queen herself would make a move. Though Cheston had helped this time, the queen would only continue to interfere more and more. Whitney was certain—her life would be anything but smooth from here on out.

'But I'm not running away now.’

She lifted her head to look in the mirror. Whitney didn’t know why the queen had tried to free Maurice, but there was clearly something she wasn’t aware of. If she could uncover that secret, things might become much easier.

‘Asking the informant for help would be too risky for something this serious.’

She needed someone she could trust. Or someone connected to the royal family whom she could probe for answers.

Then, a perfectly suitable person came to Whitney’s mind. If it was something worth boasting about, she wouldn’t be able to help but talk about it. There was no one more fitting for the task.

'If it were Liona, she would have rushed to the queen’s summons without hesitation—there’s a good chance she noticed something.’

Whitney considered sending her a letter but quickly changed her mind. She still had the invitation from Helene. If she attended, she might be able to gather some information there. Meeting Liona directly would be too risky. Any conversation between them would inevitably make its way back to the queen.

The most direct way would be to meet the queen herself—or perhaps the foolish Carl. The idea of going to the royal palace didn’t seem like a bad option.

‘...There's no reason I can't go.’

Dressed in fresh clothes, Whitney made her way to the dining room, where everyone was surely waiting. Her steps were light, unwavering, and full of purpose.

***

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