They arrived late in the afternoon, the sun already dipping low enough to paint the stone towers of the ducal estate in warm amber light. The journey had taken two days, long but uneventful, and by the time the carriage rolled through the iron gates, Rin could feel the twins sagging with exhaustion despite their excitement.
Their arrival was met with genuine warmth.
The duke himself stepped forward first, his presence imposing yet softened by the unmistakable pride in his eyes as he greeted Rin and the children. The duchess followed close behind, her smile gentle and welcoming, immediately kneeling to the twins' level as if noble etiquette had never existed to begin with. Servants moved efficiently, carrying luggage and preparing rooms, while reassuring voices urged them to rest and refresh themselves before dinner.
Rin was grateful for the pause.
After settling the twins into their room and entrusting them to his aunt—who seemed far too pleased to be fussed over by palace staff—Rin found himself unable to sit still. His body was weary, but his thoughts were restless, drifting and colliding like leaves caught in a restless wind. Without fully realizing it, his steps carried him away from the guest wing and into a quieter part of the estate.
The small garden he stumbled upon was secluded, enclosed by stone walls overgrown with ivy. White flowers bloomed despite the cooling season, their scent faint but calming. Sitting upon a stone bench, hands folded neatly in her lap, was the duchess.
Rin halted instinctively.
He turned, intending to leave at once—he had no wish to intrude—but the duchess had already noticed him. She looked up, her expression softening as she met his eyes.
"There you are," she said warmly. "Come. Sit with me for a while."
Rin hesitated, then inclined his head politely. "If I may impose,My lady ."
She laughed lightly. "You're far too formal for someone who will soon be family. Even if it's only on paper."
That earned a faint, sheepish smile from Rin as he sat beside her, hands folded neatly on his lap. To break the silence, he glanced around and said, a bit awkwardly, "The garden is… beautiful. It feels peaceful."
"It is," the duchess replied, clearly amused. "And you don't need to sound so stiff around me. I'm not one to bite."
He relaxed slightly at that.
After a moment, she rose and gestured for him to follow. "Walk with me."
They moved slowly along the stone path, the evening breeze stirring the leaves above them. Then, without warning, the duchess spoke again.
"You resemble your mother," she said gently. "Especially your eyes. That shade of emerald is unmistakable."
Rin stopped.
"My… mother?" he echoed, surprised. "You knew her?"
"Yes," the duchess said, smiling faintly. "And your father as well. Long before any of this."
Rin frowned in confusion. "My father never mentioned it. Neither did my mother."
She chuckled. "Your father has always been tight-lipped. Just like you."
At his silent prompting, she continued.
Not long after her marriage to the duke, the duchess had fallen ill with a disease no physician could identify. In desperation, the duke had recruited Rin's father temporarily—young, brilliant, and already known for his unusual knowledge of herbs.
It was during that time that Rin's father met Rin's mother.
"She was our gardener," the duchess said fondly. "She took care of this very garden."
Rin blinked. "A… gardener?"
"Yes. And an exceptional one. At first, those two could hardly stand each other. Their first meeting was dreadful."
For some reason, Rin thought of his own first meeting with Alaric—and had to suppress a dry laugh.
"They argued constantly," the duchess continued. "Different perspectives. Different tempers. Yet somehow, they kept seeking each other out."
Over time, bickering turned into understanding. Understanding turned into affection.And she became pregnant.
"But happy times never last long, she said softly. "Even though my illness was cured, I was never able to conceive."
"The physicians warned your father about your mother's well brinb," the duchess said gently. "The labor would be dangerous. He might be forced to make a choice.
Rin's throat tightened. "Choose… her or me."
"Yes."
His father searched relentlessly for herbs that could prevent such an outcome. He , researched, experimented—yet found nothing in time.
"And he honored her wish," the duchess said gently. "To choose you."
Rin lowered his gaze. "I think… I understand now. Why he's so obsessed with herbs."
She nodded. "Did he ever find what he was searching for?"
"Yes," Rin replied quietly. "His journals. They helped me deliver safely."
By the time they returned to the manor, dusk had settled fully, and dinner awaited.
At the table, the duke announced cheerfully that they were welcome to stay as long as they wished. Tomorrow, he explained, would mark the formal registration of Rin and his children into the ducal family. Rin would also be expected to learn basic etiquette and royal customs—for one week.
"The wedding will be held after that," the duke added brightly.
His wife immediately elbowed him. "Not at the dinner table."
The duke wilted. "But—"
"Eat," she ordered.
The table erupted into soft laughter.
Later that night, Rin found his father walking quietly beneath the lanterns. When Rin joined him, his father spoke first.
"From tomorrow onward," he said, "you'll belong to another family."
Rin shook his head. "Even if it's written on paper, you'll always be my father."
His father smiled faintly. "I know."
After a pause, he added, "I suppose she told you everything."
"Yes."
"I'm sorry," his father said quietly. "Every time I look at you, I see her."
Rin reached out and squeezed his hand. "It's okay, Father. At least now I understand why you seemed so distant toward me before."
"I only hope that when you look at me, you won't see someone who took her life—
but a reminder that she lived, that she was loved… and that a part of her is still here,"he added.
His father's voice trembled as he answered:"I know," he said softly. "And I will. I'm sorry."
Above them, the night sky stretched vast and calm—quietly bearing witness to a family learning how to heal.