Chapter 7.

“…So, how did Archie seem today?”

Ophelia’s musings about Archie were far from over. Penny’s face twisted in exasperation as she grumbled a response.

“Well, according to the maids in the annex, that precious young master seemed down again today.”

“What? Again?”

Ophelia bolted upright at the news. During Archie’s weeklong stay, she had been pouring her heart into making him feel welcome. Yet he never seemed happy.

“I made sure to fill his days with everything he likes. What could possibly be missing? Did I misremember something?”

They say love makes people alike. Penny observed with a squint that Ophelia was strikingly similar to Nicholas in her habit of smothering someone with kindness.

“Maybe that’s exactly the problem. You know, when you’re fourteen, having someone act like they know you too well can be annoying,” Penny said bluntly.

“What? I wasn’t like that!”

Ophelia, who had been the epitome of cheerfulness and kindness at fourteen, couldn’t comprehend Penny’s warped teenage years.

Jack, who had been silently focusing on his guard duties, finally spoke up.

“In my experience, that’s something only outliers like you and Von feel, Penny.”

Eastern children are generally more reserved, Jack thought.

“What was that, you beanpole? Say that again!”

“How noisy and savage you are…”

“I never considered he might dislike it,” Ophelia murmured, ignoring their bickering.

The room descended into chaos as each of them spoke over the other. None of them noticed the maid gently knocking and entering until she cleared her throat.

“So, what’s Archie doing now?”

Ophelia asked the two, her expression serious as if their playful banter hadn’t happened.

“Oh, the young master is strolling in the garden right now. The Fairy Garden, to be specific,” the maid replied kindly as she placed a water pitcher on the nightstand.

The mention of the Fairy Garden made Ophelia’s face pale.

Among the many gardens of Diazi Castle, it was the most untouched by human hands. In the past, she had nearly drowned in the pond there and couldn’t pull herself out.

“That place is dangerous,” she muttered.

She knew the pond wasn’t deep and that it wasn’t truly dangerous, but a strange sense of unease crept over her.

“The beauty of the Fairy Garden is one of Diazi’s prides. What’s dangerous about—”

“I have to go,” Ophelia interrupted, hurriedly climbing out of bed.

“So suddenly?” Penny protested weakly.

Jack, however, simply followed her without a word, his expression resigned. From experience, he knew that once Ophelia made up her mind, no one could stop her.

* * *

Confirming that no one was watching, the McFoy heir sat down comfortably by the pond, settling onto the ground. He had dismissed all the other guards, keeping only Harry for company.

“A bride preparing for her wedding doesn’t usually meet guests. Should we still try to request an audience?”

Archie had finally mustered the courage to face Ophelia again, but Erika’s words threw him off completely.

With the wedding fast approaching, it was clear that the bride wasn’t available to meet just anyone. The young heir was beginning to grasp the harsh reality that life seldom went according to plan. His first solo official duty was proving far more difficult than anticipated.

“I should’ve delivered it the day I arrived,” he muttered, fiddling with the letter from his aunt that he carried everywhere. The paper, touched so often, had become creased and slightly damp.

“Ugh… I’ve really made a mess of this,” he sighed deeply at the thought of handing over such a battered note. Harry gave him a worried glance.

At that moment, a voice called out desperately from the distance.

 

“Young Master—!”

Startled, Archie instinctively turned his head toward the source. A woman was running toward him in a panic.

 

‘Life really doesn’t go as planned.’

It was Ophelia, the same woman who had looked at him with an unreadable expression before turning away with a practiced smile.

But now? Her face was pale with fear, her long hair disheveled, and she wore indoor clothes hastily covered with a shawl, making her seem almost frantic.

Archie rose slowly, his face tightening in discomfort as he watched Ophelia approach, followed closely by knights in white cloaks.

“I’m sorry to call you so suddenly, young master. But the pond is dangerous—please, come this way,” she said breathlessly, extending a hand toward him.

Archie glanced down at her outstretched hand. Pale and slender, it reminded him of his uncle. ‘The water is dangerous—take my hand.’ Hadn’t his uncle said something similar once? Were all beautiful people this overprotective? He couldn’t help the stray thought.

 

“Ah.”

He suddenly remembered his aunt’s letter. This was his chance. Instead of taking her hand, Archie fumbled into his pocket, pulling out the now crumpled paper. It had grown even more disheveled.

“Why is it like this…”

Embarrassed by the state of the note, Archie tried to smooth it out by shaking it lightly. Unfortunately, as if guided by fate, the paper slipped from his fingers and caught on the wind, fluttering toward the water.

Archie reacted instinctively, lunging after it. Just as he managed to grab the note, his foot slipped, and he wavered precariously near the pond’s edge.

The eyes of everyone around—Ophelia, Harry, and the knights—widened in alarm.

‘Oh no.’

Archie’s face was painted with dread. Falling into the pond and embarrassing himself wasn’t even the worst part. What would happen to the letter?

The dutiful young heir hadn’t dared to read the letter’s contents. If it was lost, his aunt’s words would go undelivered. Closing his eyes tightly, Archie braced for impact.

 

But before he could fall, an incredible strength yanked him back by the collar, dragging him onto solid ground. His throat felt briefly constricted before he found himself unceremoniously tossed onto the grass.

 

‘H-Harry?’

Archie blinked rapidly, disoriented. ‘No, Sir Forn would never handle me this roughly…’

As his spinning vision cleared, Ophelia’s face came into focus.

“Archie, are you okay?”

She asked, her expression as shaken as his. She was sitting haphazardly on the ground, leaning toward him, and unconsciously calling him by name as she checked him over.

Archie couldn’t look away from her. He nodded mutely, his head bobbing twice in answer.

 

“Are you alright?”

Jack approached swiftly, kneeling beside Ophelia. She instinctively placed a hand over her abdomen and smiled faintly.

“This is nothing,” she replied.

‘Nothing?’

Archie didn’t understand the meaning behind their exchange. Unaware of Ophelia’s pregnancy, the young heir had no idea what they were referring to.

 

Gathering his composure with Harry’s help, Archie stood and bowed deeply in gratitude.

“There’s no need for that, young master,” Ophelia said, her tone gentle. “I only did what was necessary.”

Her humility made Archie frown deeply. Unable to hold back, he lowered his head further, causing Ophelia to wonder what had upset him.

But Archie didn’t stay bowed for long. Lifting his head sharply, his expression was determined. His sudden resolve made Ophelia hold her breath.

Archie thrust out his fist, holding the crumpled note toward her. Taken aback, Ophelia hesitantly accepted it.

 

“Young master, what is this?”

“My aunt asked me to deliver it to you.”

Ophelia blinked slowly, her gaze dropping to the note in her hands.

It wasn’t uncommon to receive letters from the McFoy head, usually delivered with grand gifts and written on expensive scrolls. Those letters contained polite congratulations and blessings. But a separate, personal note addressed to her?

Ophelia couldn’t bring herself to open it right away. Before she could react, Archie began speaking, as if to himself.

 

“I suppose it’s because I have no memories of those times or the old McFoy. But honestly, I still don’t think what happened was entirely your fault.”

“…”

“You were only fifteen. What kind of goddess-like devotion could you have given at that age? It doesn’t make sense.”

“…”

“So, all I want to say is that I’m grateful you saved my life and my aunt’s. What matters to me is the McFoy of now, not the past.”

To Archie, McFoy meant Aisa, and Aisa’was’ McFoy.

 

Ophelia slowly raised her gaze, meeting his violet eyes.

“Honestly, I’m still young and lack the perspective to untangle it all. But this is the judgment I’ve reached. So, don’t try to add anything to it.”

“…Alright.”

Caught in the force of his determination, Ophelia answered almost automatically. Satisfied, Archie’s expression softened, and he added with a touch of pride.

“I said I’m grateful.”

“…Alright.”

Ophelia repeated, her lips curling into a faint smile. She couldn’t help it.

“Aunt Ophelia.”

Archie said her name suddenly, testing it out as though to see how it felt. His violet eyes seemed to ask, ‘You called me by name, so I can do the same, right?’

Ophelia couldn’t hold back her laughter, a clear, bright sound echoing across the garden.

* * *

Despite the grim expressions Ophelia had been wearing for days, which hardly seemed fitting for a bride two days before her wedding, today she walked back to her room with a glowing face, clutching Archie’s note to her chest like it was the most precious treasure in the world.

Without a word, she promised Jack and Penny she wouldn’t disappear and shooed them out of the room. Seeing her excitement, the two knights exchanged a glance but decided to wait outside without protest.

Ophelia perched reverently on the edge of her bed. For a while, she simply stared at the note, hesitant to open it. Finally, she unfolded it carefully, as though handling something sacred.

“…”

There wasn’t much to read. The content was two syllables long. Ophelia’s eyes widened in disbelief.

Her shoulders sagged, and she buried her face into the paper. From the way her shoulders trembled, one might think she was crying.

 

“…Ahaha.”

Instead, Ophelia was silently laughing.

‘Oh, Aisa.’

“What am I going to do with you… You’re still hopeless at naming things,” she muttered, her voice tinged with affection.

The name written on the note was ‘Geum’ (Gold). Its simplicity and transparency left Ophelia both exasperated and endeared.

Aisa McFoy had always admired her golden hair, often staring at it in awe, just as much as she loved her blue eyes. The choice of the name made it clear Aisa was convinced the baby would have golden hair. The fact that it was a gender-neutral name hinted at a surprising level of thoughtfulness.

Blushing slightly, Ophelia couldn’t take her eyes off the short, endearing message. Then, with a sudden realization, she decided she had to share this adorable moment with her beloved. It had been a while since her day felt this lively.

“Ophelia.”

Nicholas was happy enough just to have Ophelia visit him in his office, but seeing her unusually cheerful made him even more delighted.

“Something good must have happened.”

“I just decided on our baby’s name!” she announced, practically beaming.

For a brief moment, Nicholas wondered if his father, Milan, had stopped by to share the fruits of his exhaustive research. Lately, Milan had been drowning himself in name dictionaries to come up with the perfect name for the baby.

“What is it?” Nicholas asked.

“Geum.”

“…Gold?”

“You figured out the meaning right away, didn’t you?” Ophelia asked excitedly, nodding enthusiastically.

Nicholas hesitated. ‘It’s… nice,’ he thought, stumbling over his words for the first time in ages. The name was certainly… straightforward.