Chapter 73
Helena had always hated her past.
Her weakness, which had dragged her into the abyss, was something she despised.
But now, she couldn’t bear the thought of repeating it.
If she remained timid and downtrodden, she would only be reliving the past she loathed.
Joshua was right. She couldn’t afford to let herself shrink like this.
She didn’t want to die with such a weak and pitiful image.
“Good morning, Rosalith.”
The next morning, Helena encountered Rosalith again.
She had enjoyed a hearty breakfast with Jeremy after a long time, and the child had fallen asleep with his head resting on her lap.
“…You’re awake already?”
Rosalith, who had visited the estate early in the morning, seemed startled to see Helena with Jeremy.
“Yes, I woke up early today for some reason.”
“Really? Well, don’t live too lazily, okay? You’ve always stayed cooped up in your room, even back at the mansion,” she said.
“You never joined Father and Mother on their trips, and you were always neglectful of family matters. Remember that?”
“Yes. I won’t do that here, though. Thanks for your concern.”
Rosalith blinked at her calm response, not getting the reaction she expected. She even gave a slight glare.
“But Rosalith, the Duke isn’t here right now.”
“Is that so? Well, I didn’t come to see him today.”
“Then why are you here?”
“For Jeremy. I came to take him out for some fun.”
Rosalith reached out her hand.
“So, hand him over. I’ll take him.”
“He’s asleep right now.”
“What does that matter?”
“Did you make plans with Jeremy to go out together?”
“No, but once we’re out, he’ll have fun. So just give him to me.”
She spoke as if she were snatching away a possession. Rosalith hadn’t changed.
“Stop deciding things for Jeremy. Let him wake up and ask him yourself.”
“He likes being with me more than with you anyway.”
“Then wait for him to wake up and ask him directly.”
What’s with her? Seriously, what’s going on?
Helena didn’t respond the way she usually did—meekly backing down. Instead, she talked back, leaving her speechless.
Rosalith pursed her lips, unable to come up with a retort.
Since childhood, she had called her older sister stupid and worthless.
She might have felt some pity for her at times, but for some reason, she couldn’t bring herself to like Helena.
Rosalith didn’t know why.
Her sister was frail and unimpressive. She lacked confidence and was socially awkward, unlike herself.
But there was one thing about Helena that stood out: her looks.
Her ankles were slender, and her long neck was graceful.
Always lingering in the grass fields as a child, Helena seemed to carry the scent of fresh leaves wherever she went.
“Helena, that girl is rather pretty,” a guest had once remarked while visiting the Eskel mansion.
The guest had run into Helena by chance and was struck by her beauty.
“Well, she’s not bad-looking. If she grows up, we can marry her off to some wealthy family,” her father had said.
Since then, Rosalith had thought of herself as being on a different level from her sister.
She would receive her father’s love and marry a distinguished man, while Helena, like merchandise on a market stall, would be sold off.
And in the end, her father’s words came true. Helena married into a wealthy family.
Watching her act proud, as if she didn’t know she’d been sold, was laughable.
“I’ll handle it myself,” Helena replied calmly.
Rosalith sat across from Helena, stealing glances at her.
Her older sister was gently stroking Jeremy’s hair with a tender touch.
She knew Helena had once tried to avoid her at all costs.
Since childhood, Rosalith had been aware of her sister’s timid glances and how she always seemed to shrink away.
Helena lacked confidence, and even the smallest provocation would make her flinch like a frightened mouse and flee.
Rosalith had come to the mansion daily for that very reason.
She would intentionally speak to Calligo or approach Jeremy, fully aware of how Helena would react. She deliberately provoked her, wanting her to run away and stay out of sight forever.
But now, her sister dared to talk back. As if she’d been emboldened by someone.
“So, stay out of my business,” Rosalith snapped.
“Sure, I will.”
For the first time, Helena met her younger sister’s gaze without hesitation.
She quietly observed Rosalith, taking in her discomfort and the way her irritation grew as things didn’t go as planned.
And through that, Helena realized something.
Rosalith was deliberately provoking her.
She had likely enjoyed watching Helena avoid her, especially when she was with Calligo.
It reminded Helena of an old incident involving Lady Kenderville.
Back then, her passivity had left her unable to protect herself or those around her.
“How is Father doing?” Helena asked with a faint, bitter smile.
“Same as always,” Rosalith replied.
“I haven’t visited the mansion in a long time. Is everything there still the same? Has Father said anything to you?
Even if you’re coming to see me, Father might get angry if you visit the Frantor estate too often.”
‘Small talk? We’ve never been close enough for that.
She must be flaunting her new status as the Duchess of Frantor,’ Rosalith thought.
“I don’t know. Father’s too busy to pay attention to me anyway,” she said curtly.
“He’s busy with matters inside and outside the mansion. It’s chaotic.”
“Chaotic? Is he hosting some sort of banquet?”
“A banquet? Don’t be ridiculous. The estate is swarming with workers all day long. How could we host a banquet?”
“Workers?”
“Probably something Brother ordered. Who knows? It’s infuriating.”
“Maybe they’re building something new.”
“What’s the matter? Missing Eskel now that you’ve been away for so long?”
At her sarcastic retort, Helena smiled faintly.
“Maybe I do miss it a little.”
“You used to barely raise your head in front of Father and Mother,” Rosalith said.
“Well, now that I think about it, I feel like I could look them in the eye.”
Helena’s voice was calm and even.
“Now that I’m the Duchess of Frantor, perhaps I have the confidence to face them properly.”
Rosalith’s lips twisted slightly at the mention of her sister’s title.
“Sure. If you miss it so much, come back to the mansion anytime,” Rosalith said coldly.
“We’ll be happy to welcome you back.”
At that moment, a voice interrupted their exchange.
“Ugh, why is it so noisy?”
Jeremy, who had been asleep in Helena’s warm embrace, finally opened his eyes.
“Let’s go,” Rosalith said, reaching out to him.
But Jeremy, who had been sleeping soundly, snapped,
“No way! If you want to go, go by yourself, you idiot!”
“What?”
“Can’t you see I’m tired? Don’t you have any sense? If you want to play, go play alone, dummy!”
“How rude! Unbelievable!” Rosalith shouted, her voice full of outrage.
“Why are you so rude?”
“Aren’t you the last person who should be asking that?”
“Did you just call me ‘you’?”
“What else would I call you if not ‘you’?”
Jeremy responded calmly, causing Rosalith’s face to flush bright red.
“You’re so ungrateful for everything I’ve done for you!”
“For spending money on me? How much was it? I’ll pay you back.”
“Calm down,” Helena tried to mediate, sensing the escalating tension.
But it was no use. Rosalith stormed out of the mansion in a huff, and Jeremy muttered under his breath.
“She was the one who insisted on going out, and now she’s talking about gratitude? What a joke.”
—
Workers moving around the Eskel estate was not an unusual sight.
However, launching construction during a time when funds needed to be gathered and forces rallied against Calligo was suspicious.
“I’ve heard from doctors who visit Eskel for house calls that the security has gotten tighter,” one of the listeners said.
“So now they’ve increased both workers and guards?”
“It seems like information worth confirming.”
Aiden, who had been listening, clicked his tongue and nodded.
“Well, that’s all the information I’ve gathered for now. Is there anything else you need?”
Aiden had been roaming the capital on his own initiative, collecting intel for Helena without her asking.
“If it’s not enough, I can even ask my patients if they’ve heard anything about what’s happening at Eskel.”
“That’s too dangerous. I’d rather you just live as a doctor,” Helena said firmly.
Though she appreciated his efforts, she didn’t want to involve him in something that could put him in danger.
“…Thanks for worrying about me. Of course, I can’t promise I’ll do as you say,” Aiden replied with a wry smile, his tone lighthearted as if trying to ease her concern. He understood her feelings better than he let on.
“I’m just asking if there’s anything else I can do for you. I want to be of help, that’s all.”
“Ah…” Helena hesitated for a moment before pulling a letter from her pocket.
“What’s this? A forget-me-not?”
The letter was adorned with a pressed forget-me-not flower. There was no sender’s name, only the delicate decoration.
“I’d like you to send this for me,” she said.
“Huh? A letter? Where to?”
“To the Frantor estate.”
Until now, Helena had relied on Bahen and the guild to gather information.
In the process, Jane had proven unexpectedly resourceful. With her lively personality and popularity, she brought back quite useful tidbits.
Since Helena couldn’t easily move about from the estate, she had decided to entrust the information she had gathered to someone who could make use of it—Calligo.
There was a chance he might already know what she’d written, but if it could be of even the slightest help, it was worth sending.
“I’d like it to be sent anonymously. As discreetly as possible.”
“I get the idea, but if you send it anonymously, the person who needs to see it might not recognize it.”
“Even so,” Helena insisted.
“Alright, alright,” Aiden relented with a shrug. He glanced at the forget-me-not decorating the letter. The pale blue flower seemed to emit a subtle fragrance.
“But why a forget-me-not? I didn’t know you liked them.”
The idea had come to her while she was pondering a pseudonym for the letter.
In truth, she had been inspired by Bahen’s “Primrose.”
And somehow, after learning the meaning of forget-me-nots, the choice felt fitting.
“Don’t ask. Just send it,” Helena replied, her cheeks reddening as she spoke. She grumbled to hide her embarrassment.
Her endearing reaction drew a curious expression from a servant passing by, who seemed to interpret the exchange in their own way.
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