FWTR Chapter 6

Chapter 6

“He misses me…?”

The parting phrase, one more suited to lovers, made Estelle feel a wave of embarrassment.
Her cheeks burned hotter the more she stared at Michael’s sharp yet clean handwriting.

“My lady, you don’t look well… Are you all right?” Anna asked hesitantly.

“…Open the window for me,” Estelle replied.

It must have been obvious to Anna that her face had flushed, as her curious gaze lingered.

The cool breeze that entered through the open window helped cool her heated cheeks.
She took a deep breath, steadying her chest that had been pounding with excitement.

“Is this the scent he wears?”

The bergamot fragrance emanating from the parchment seemed to calm her further as she reread the letter.

Michael’s decision to hide his message using lemon juice intrigued her, sparking a growing curiosity about him.

She recalled the moment she had seen him as Emperor—a man who stood detached even as countless servants perished.
Michael appeared indifferent to others, showing no signs of sympathy or compassion.

Why, then, had such a man shed tears in her room? She couldn’t understand.
It was true they had crossed paths before, but they were hardly close.
If they had been, it would have been odd that she couldn’t remember him clearly.

“Why did he send this invitation out of nowhere?”

Thinking of him always brought on a splitting headache, but she couldn’t avoid it forever.
To change the future, she had to alter the past.

“If I attend the masquerade ball, I can ask him how he knows me.”

Since the invitation was sent under someone else’s name, Estelle decided to write her reply without mentioning Michael.

She carefully composed a polite response, adding the right amount of formal language, and handed it to Anna.

“I’ll attend the masquerade ball. Deliver this to the Aslan Marquisate and prepare a mask for the full moon,” she instructed.

Anna accepted the letter with trembling lips before nervously speaking up.

“Thank you for forgiving me, my lady. I promise I’ll do my best from now on.”

‘…Forgive you?’

Anna bowed deeply as if the simple task of delivering the letter was a chance to redeem herself.
It seemed she was still anxious after Estelle had decided to delay her punishment.

Watching her work her wits to improve her position, Estelle wanted to correct her clever misunderstanding.
But she forced herself to remain calm and suppressed her irritation.

‘I’ll wait until Melody manipulates you into betraying me.’

In any case, Estelle had no intention of dismissing Anna before Melody revealed her true nature.

“Very well, Anna. I’d like a quiet morning tomorrow,” Estelle said flatly.

“As you command, my lady!” Anna replied, quickly leaving the room.

Once alone, Estelle collapsed onto her bed, staring blankly at the chandelier above.

The silence felt suffocating, trapping her in a state of isolation.
Memories of the days when no one had noticed her resurfaced, filling her vision. It was utterly lonely.

“What if it’s all an illusion?”

The thought terrified her. What if she hadn’t truly returned to the past? What if this was just a fabrication born from her desperate desire to live?

Impulsively, she pinched her cheek hard, the sharp pain grounding her in reality.
Tears that had welled up in her eyes spilled over, and once they began, they wouldn’t stop.

“Is this my reward for dying unjustly?”

Because she remembered everything and had returned to the past, she had managed to annul her engagement to Leonov.
For the first time, she had also told the Duke of Winchester “no.”

“This is how I’ll change things.”

Clenching her fist tightly, Estelle steeled her resolve.

This time, she wouldn’t seek love or validation.

“…They wouldn’t mourn me even if I died.”

Catering to their whims and holding out hope for them was foolish. She vowed never to do it again.

As Estelle steadied her thoughts, the steady ticking of the clock filled the room, lulling her into a sense of calm.
Her body relaxed, and soon, sleepiness overtook her.

When her eyelids grew too heavy to keep open, she turned onto her side, curling up as she drifted off.

The breeze slipping through the slightly open window felt like gentle hands stroking her hair.

A soft voice whispered, “My dear child.”

It was a woman’s voice she had never heard before, unfamiliar yet tender.

“…Am I already dreaming?”

The tone was calm and kind. Had anyone ever called her with such affection?

Instead of opening her eyes, Estelle chose to linger in the warmth of the dream.
Reality held no such kindness for her—she had never known the comfort of a gentle touch.

***

Late in the early morning, Duke of Winchester’s Bedroom

Despite it being late at night, the Duke of Winchester was unable to sleep, caught in an inexplicable sense of unease.
He tried to trace the origin of this feeling.

It wasn’t due to the report from his eldest about minor disturbances in the territory. The issue had already been resolved, so there was no cause for concern.
What truly stirred the calm waters into a turbulent wave was the moment he had encountered Estelle.

“You, you should really stop shouting when you’re angry. Not just me, but others are scared of you.”

He felt embarrassed for raising his voice, unable to control his emotions.

Yet Estelle’s gaze, which hadn’t shied away from him, reminded him of his late wife’s scolding.

“I thought you wouldn’t have any resemblance to Alicia, but it turns out I was wrong.”

His butler responded warmly, “My lady reminds me a lot of when Lady Alicia was Count Madel’s daughter. She looks so much like her.”

“Did you think so as well?”

A smile tugged at the Duke’s lips as he sipped his warm tea in agreement with the butler’s observation.
He had never properly faced Estelle before, so he hadn’t realized it, but she shared many features with his wife. He was taken aback by how much she resembled Alicia when he first met her.

“Has she already turned twenty?”

Since Alicia’s death, the Duke had lost track of time and was confused about how many years had passed.

As he thought more about Estelle, a recent memory came to him—the conversation with his son, who had informed him that the engagement had been annulled. His son’s sudden decision left him unsettled.

“Why did she suddenly do that?”

The Duke sighed deeply, unable to shake the discomfort.

“Perhaps if it were the second or third child, it wouldn’t be so strange. But for Estelle, who has never caused trouble, this is quite troubling.”

Estelle had always been a quiet child, one who seemed almost invisible. It was perplexing to him how much she had changed—she had become unrecognizable.

“Miss Estelle… she’s different from usual.”

“Differently how?”

“She doesn’t treat Young Master Lucas as familiarly anymore. She doesn’t even call him ‘brother’ anymore.”

Indeed, since she had entered the study, Estelle had stopped calling him “Father.” He had dismissed it at the time, thinking it was because of her anger over the annulment of the engagement to the Crown Prince. However, he felt uneasy now thinking about it.

Estelle had never once changed the way she addressed him, no matter the situation.

“…Why?”

Even when she showed signs of frustration, her insistence on using the same form of address had never faltered. Now, she was distancing herself, and the Duke found it jarring.

She had always been the type of child to wait for him to speak first.

“Why don’t you try calling her to breakfast tomorrow? It might lift her mood,” the butler suggested kindly.

The Duke nodded, feeling that this might resolve things.
He had been cold to Estelle for so long, and he regretted it now.

“Yes, I’ll do that. And also, discreetly find out what happened with the Crown Prince.”

“Understood, Duke.”

The Duke couldn’t shake the feeling that he should have been more concerned earlier. His thoughts were clouded by an image of the butler’s resentful eyes.

“I’ll need to ask her about the engagement again tomorrow morning.”

Thinking back, the last time he had shared a meal with Estelle was when she was very young.
He remembered how she had refused to eat her favorite butternut squash soup, too nervous to touch it. The little girl trembled in fear, avoiding his gaze.

He had avoided dining with her because he couldn’t stand seeing her so anxious and always trying to gauge his reactions.

Though he had known she wanted to spend time with him, he had deliberately distanced himself. It had been an attempt to show consideration, but it had been laced with discomfort.

At times, Estelle’s mere existence made the Duke feel like he was dying.
She irritated him constantly.

Each time he saw her, it was as though he was being reminded of his wife’s death.
His wife had died because of Estelle.

“Even without me, please don’t hate the child. If you don’t hate her, you’ll come to love her eventually. Do you know how beautiful her eyes are when they shine like stars? I’ll miss seeing them…”

“Alicia. I’m trying to find a way to save you. So, please don’t give up.”

“…Victor, I’m so sleepy. Can I just rest a little?”

“Alicia, please…”

“I’m sorry… I loved you, Victor.”

The Duke hated Estelle for constantly reminding him of his wife’s death. Even though Alicia’s last wish had been for him not to hate her, he couldn’t help but feel hatred.

“I didn’t do anything wrong. At least I didn’t abandon her. That girl is the only daughter of the Winchester bloodline. It’s a good thing she didn’t grow up spoiled.”

His adopted daughter, Melody, could afford to be innocent, but Estelle, his biological daughter, had to bear the weight of her status.
He hadn’t given her love or attention, and the guilt of neglect had piled up like dust.

There was no point in regretting time that couldn’t be undone.

“If it weren’t for her, Alicia… you wouldn’t have died.”

No matter how many times he thought it through, he would always hate Estelle, born from the death of his wife.

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