WGMFTR | Chapter 13

Episode 13

Since then, for several days, Lydia and Marquis Esteban had been stuck between awkwardness and aloofness.

Their daily routine of checking the curse’s state and confirming that it was being properly suppressed remained unchanged.

However, the marquis would only spare a brief moment before going out for the entire day, or if he was at the mansion, he would stay holed up in his office.

Lydia considered knocking on the office door several times but ultimately gave up due to her own upset feelings.

‘Was it really something to get that angry about?’

Thinking back on it, she didn’t feel like she had done anything seriously wrong, which made her more upset.

The more she reflected, the less it seemed like her comment had overstepped any boundaries. So why had the marquis responded with such a sharp tone?

Feeling frustrated with sulking in her room, Lydia began to wander aimlessly around the mansion.

“The weather is so nice today…”

Resting her chin on the railing, Lydia looked down at the beautifully landscaped Esteban family garden.

The sight of the blooming red roses was nothing short of peaceful.

From a distance, she could hear the indistinct chatter of people pruning and shaping the greenery, their voices carried by the wind.

‘People I haven’t seen before… Did they bring in more workers?’

The mansion, despite its size, had an oddly small number of servants. Because of this, outside workers were sometimes brought in to maintain the estate.

Given the fast-approaching wedding, it was understandable that the head gardener couldn’t manage everything alone, hence the additional help today.

Even if preparations for the wedding were hectic, Lydia was in an area of the mansion not normally accessed by outside personnel.

The atmosphere around her remained eerily quiet.

Bored of the monotonous scenery, Lydia wandered off again without a clear destination.

Then, at the end of a corridor, she spotted some servants on a ladder taking down a massive picture frame.

‘That painting…’

Even though it hung at the corridor’s far end, it had always been covered with a white cloth, making it impossible to know what was painted on it.

Today, however, the cloth had been removed for relocation, revealing what appeared to be a family portrait.

Curious to get a closer look, Lydia naturally walked over.

“Careful with that. Not like that… Ah, Lady Lydia. Is there something you need?”

Frederick, the butler who was fussing over the servants with an unusually strict tone, turned around at her approach.

“No, I was just out for a walk. This painting…”

Lydia’s gaze had been locked on the painting ever since she started walking toward it.

What caught her eye first was a confident, charismatic young girl with long blonde hair sitting elegantly with her legs crossed.

Next to her stood a boy, looking more like a youth than a young man—presumably Ilian.

“Who is this person?”

The blonde girl, with her haughty expression, bore a strong resemblance to Illian. It was immediately clear she was Katrina, Ilian’s older sister and now Countess Rodrigo.

But the timid-looking boy standing close to Ilian was a mystery.

He not only looked completely different from the other two but even his hair was a light brown rather than blonde.

“That is the late Young Master Ethan.”

“Young Master… Ethan?”

Watching the servants safely lower the frame, the butler responded after a pause.

“There was a tragic accident in the past. After that, the atmosphere of the marquisate changed significantly, and most notably, the master himself changed greatly.”

The sorrow and regret in the aged butler’s eyes as he looked at Lydia were not easy to grasp in their depth.

Lydia turned her gaze back to the painting.

Indeed, Ilian in the painting had a more relaxed expression than now.

With his hand gently resting on young Ethan’s shoulder, there was an unfamiliar warmth to his demeanor.

“I had no idea.”

“…The master avoids speaking of Young Master Ethan at all costs. Ever since the order was given to cover this painting after Ethan’s passing, he hasn’t once mentioned him in front of me, not even indirectly.”

“Then why are you moving it now?”

“We’re expecting a large number of guests soon, so we can’t keep it covered like this. We’re relocating it to an unused room.”

As the servants carefully rewrapped the painting in cloth, it disappeared from view once more.

The butler spoke quietly to Lydia, who stood gazing at the now-empty spot.

“I have served the master since he was a young lord, and I know well that he sometimes pushes people away with an impenetrable wall.”

“…Excuse me?”

“I don’t mean to excuse or defend him. It’s just… I’m genuinely glad that he’s chosen to let someone stay by his side. So, Lady Lydia, I ask you sincerely to be generous with him.”

Lydia couldn’t respond easily, unsure of what to say.

It was clear how important Ilian was to Frederick, for him to hope so earnestly that Illian would form a family.

She couldn’t even imagine the butler’s disappointment if he were to learn this was merely a contractual marriage destined to fall apart.

“I’ve served him since he was Young Master Ilian. After even Lady Katrina left, and he began dismissing the servants one by one, saying they were no longer needed… I worried he might end up all alone in this mansion, closing his heart off entirely.”

For the first time, Lydia sincerely regretted getting involved in this grand performance.

It wasn’t just about deceiving others—she was bound to disappoint someone in the end, and that thought made her chest tighten.

She barely managed to squeeze out a response.

“…The marquis is fortunate to have someone like you by his side.”

“I’m the one who should be thankful. It’s been so long since I saw the master care for someone so tenderly and smile like that.”

To think that just checking whether Lydia had skipped a meal could prompt such a grateful reaction—

It made her wonder just how indifferent he had been to those around him.

As for smiles—well, sarcastic smirks, sure, he did that plenty. The kind of smile that said, ‘Let’s see what you’re capable of,’ had become familiar.

“There will naturally be some friction with wedding preparations, but I wanted to say—if you ever need someone on your side, I’ll be here.”

“We didn’t fight.”

Marquis Ilian Esteban was simply upset and brimming with unexplainable irritation on his own.

So being seen that way felt incredibly unfair.

“If you truly had, I’d have scolded him immediately. Knowing how particular the master is, it’s obvious he was at fault. I’d have recommended he kneel and beg your forgiveness.”

It was clear the butler had a good grasp of his master’s stubborn and self-centered personality. Lydia could only shake her head and laugh.

“Thank you, even just for saying that. Ah, is this where you store unused items?”

Walking naturally alongside the butler as he followed the servants moving the painting to a storage room, Lydia stopped and was surprised by the unexpected disarray.

“Yes, that’s right. These are items from the marquisate that are difficult to discard or give away, so we store them here. In other words, they’re no longer useful but also hard to dispose of.”

Lydia stepped deeper into the storeroom, glancing around.

She noticed several objects left to collect dust like junk and turned to Frederick with a question.

“Is it alright to store that painting here too?”

“The master wanted to dispose of most of Young Master Ethan’s belongings, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. So I moved a few items that remained in the capital residence here. That painting had nowhere else to go.”

“…I see.”

Lydia understood that feeling a little. Even when someone is precious, sometimes just seeing their traces can be painful.

To bring out memories and emotions and reflect fondly takes time—it’s only possible once the deep wounds of parting have healed into mere scars.

But not every farewell ends that way. Some wounds remain open forever.