Chapter 62 – A Deliberate Approach
“She looked like Melody…?”
Melody often lamented that she had lost her parents and lived alone in the slums.
“But she had a mother? If she visits her regularly… they’ve stayed in touch all this time?”
Given the circumstances, it seemed that the middle-aged woman truly was Melody’s birth mother.
“She called Melody Winchester ‘Mari.’ I believe that might be her real name.”
There was something Melody used to say often as a child—
That she had lived her life alone, without even a proper name.
That becoming Melody, becoming someone’s daughter, all felt like a dream.
She used to cry anxiously, wondering if it was all just a dream conjured up from longing for a family.
And each time, the Duke of Winchester would embrace her and comfort her, telling her not to be afraid—because she had a father now.
“So that’s why she went out alone. She couldn’t let anyone find out she was meeting her mother.”
Estelle began to organize the tangled thoughts in her head.
Meanwhile, the boy reported that Melody had received a pink potion from the woman.
The pink potion.
Estelle recalled the time Melody’s maid dropped something while moving rooms. Melody had become extremely tense and hastily hid it.
She needed to know what was going on—what the pink substance was for.
“You can go now. Also, investigate that woman in the slums. Find out her name, her family connections—everything.”
The boy gave a silent bow, then leapt out the window.
“He’ll get hurt doing that…”
Estelle gasped softly, worried by the boy’s reckless action.
“I told him not to use the window.”
“He’s not hurt, right? I know it’s just the first floor, but still…”
“He may look young, but he’s undergone intense training. He could probably jump from the third floor, land perfectly, and walk it off.”
Michael briefly pressed his fingers to his brow, reassuring Estelle and easing her concern.
The tension lightened a bit with his joke—but only for a moment.
“Estelle. Actually… before I returned, I saw it with my own eyes. Melody Winchester’s eyes… changed from pink to gray while she was in prison.”
What followed froze Estelle in place.
“What do you mean…? Her eyes changed? So her eyes weren’t originally pink?”
“I wasn’t sure at first, so I had Rael keep watch to confirm it. I think that potion was to change her eye color.”
‘Was it even possible to change one’s eye color?’
The pink potion had seemed suspicious, but she never imagined it was for that purpose.
“Gray, you said. So she used the potion to make them pink…”
A storm of emotions surged inside her—goosebumps, fear.
The secrets Melody carried were far greater than she had ever imagined.
“Your Highness, that doesn’t make sense. Maybe you saw wrong? How could someone change their eye color?”
He reached out and took Estelle’s trembling hand. The fine tremors slowly subsided.
“Estelle. Isn’t it strange? On the day of the duchess’s memorial, the Duke of Winchester just so happened to encounter a little girl on the street—with pink eyes.”
Michael spoke—everything had been planned from the beginning.
That Melody had deliberately altered her eyes with the pink potion to approach the duke.
“She was only seven. Are you saying a seven-year-old orchestrated all that? Does that even sound possible?”
It was hard to believe. Back then, Melody had only been a child.
No matter how clever she might’ve been, could a child really conceive of and carry out such a plan—changing her eye color to gain favor?
“Estelle. I understand you’re shocked. She was just a child. But… what if it wasn’t Melody?
What if that woman—learning the duke still longed for his late wife—changed her daughter’s eye color so she could be taken in?”
“…That does make more sense. Since she was the one who gave the potion.”
The only reason the Duke of Winchester had taken Melody in was because of her pink eyes.
If not for the potion, she wouldn’t have had them—and the duke likely never would’ve pitied or adopted her.
Learning that Melody hadn’t been born with pink eyes brought a fresh wave of injustice.
Estelle began to tally all the things Melody had taken from her.
Love and attention. The western bedroom. Her stuffed rabbit. Leonov. Her very life.
All the time she had wasted.
“Michael… I don’t know. I should be glad—I’ve finally found her weakness. But all I feel is sadness.”
“…Estelle. Lean on me.”
“It would’ve been better if she had been born with pink eyes. Why did it have to be me? Why go so far just to ruin me…?”
Even after going to such extremes, it still wasn’t enough.
Right. She spent a very long time, carefully preparing everything. It started when she saw her sister happy, preparing for her wedding. That’s when she decided—she had to kill her.
Because she couldn’t stand the sight of her sister’s happiness—so she killed her.
Estelle couldn’t bear it any longer and grabbed Michael’s shoulders.
She didn’t have the strength to stand.
Her chest tightened, and she couldn’t breathe. She struggled to inhale properly in his arms, but it wasn’t easy.
“I can’t… breathe…”
Frustrated, she scratched her throat. Her nails were sharp enough to leave a sting—she must’ve scratched her skin.
Michael caught her wrist and clicked his tongue.
“Estelle. Breathe slowly. It’s okay. It’s alright, just don’t rush—take it slow.”
He gently stroked her back, whispering with a pained voice.
‘Slowly…’
Estelle followed his instructions and drew a breath deep into her lungs. Her blurred vision began to clear, and the pressure eased.
‘How many times has it been now…’
She felt embarrassed—this wasn’t the first time she had hyperventilated in front of him.
“What’s wrong, Estelle? Still having trouble breathing?”
“…Michael.”
“I’m listening.”
The embarrassment faded and turned into a wave of long-held resentment.
With Michael, she felt like she could let it all out.
“If I had pink eyes, would he not have brought Melody in?”
She felt like she could ask this without being judged.
She still couldn’t fully accept it.
The unbearable truth led her to wonder—what if Melody hadn’t changed her eye color, hadn’t approached the duke?
What if she herself had been born with pink eyes?
“He would’ve loved me, wouldn’t he? Because I looked like her. He accepted Melody just because her eyes were the same—when she didn’t resemble Mother at all…”
It was heartbreaking. A truth too cruel to endure.
Everything had begun with those pink eyes.
Because she hadn’t been born with them.
Because Melody had altered hers.
“They’re not even pretty. I’ve always hated my eyes. Even without comparing them to pink, I felt like I was the only one left out.
They’re so dull. Don’t they make you feel uncomfortable? What’s so beautiful about them?”
It wasn’t the time to vent her anger on him.
She knew her words were unfair and misplaced—but she couldn’t stop.
“Estelle. You did nothing wrong.”
He pulled her head close and pressed her against his chest.
“They’re not dull. They could never be unpleasant. They’re so clear.”
“…”
“Because of you, I came to love blue. I started enjoying looking at the sky. And when I was near the ocean, I felt at peace.”
His favorite color. His hobbies. His places of comfort.
All of it, he said, came from her.
That only deepened her sorrow.
“Why me… What did I ever do to make everything—”
“It’s not because of you. It’s thanks to you. I never had a favorite color before. Everything looked the same to me.
But because of you, things changed. I found a hobby. I found a place where I could feel at ease.”
She had reached her limit.
“So I want you to love the color I came to love—because of you.”
Even as Michael’s shoulder grew wet with her tears, Estelle couldn’t hold herself back.
‘No…’
What if she fell in love with him?
What would she do if the day came when Michael stopped loving her?
‘Get it together. Don’t rely on him too much. This is for Michael’s sake too.
He’s comforting me because I keep falling apart like this.’
Estelle stepped back and brushed off her dress, as if she could shake away the longing to lean on him with that simple gesture.
