Come and Cry at My Funeral - Chapter 235
The first spring
Today, the place Izar visited was one of the orphanages on the outskirts of the capital—a place he hadn’t returned to in quite some time.
Perhaps because his new aide, Daphir Berenice, had given advance notice, the head of the orphanage was already waiting in the garden when Izar’s group arrived.
The elderly woman, with a dignified and mature impression, felt her mouth go dry the moment the duke appeared.
There was no doubt he was one of the most striking men she had ever seen. His face carried a cold edge, like the blade of a sword, and his sharp features and piercing golden eyes were unforgettable.
But perhaps due to the gloom that clung to him now, or the black garments he wore as though in eternal mourning, despite being only in his late twenties, he looked no more welcome than a desolate, ancient tree in a forgotten forest.
‘More than anything, I hope I can give him good news this time…’
How many times over the past three years had the headmistress brought children to see him, or received visits from the duke himself? It was a heavy burden on her part, too, to continue disappointing someone so noble.
“……You mentioned a child with honey-blonde hair.”
“Ah, yes!”
Flustered, the head of the orphanage rushed over with several young children in tow. All of them had honey-blonde hair and light green eyes.
Izar’s golden gaze, cast down at the frightened children standing before him, was as dull and weathered as an old, rusted coin.
‘I can’t tell at all.’
He had seen far too many children over the past three years with honey-blonde hair and green eyes. If the child had been born with golden eyes, the search would have been much easier, but despite repeated efforts, no such child had ever been found.
He knew these visits were ultimately meaningless.
Thanks to a magical technique developed by Viela Alpheratz and the crown prince, there was now a way to confirm if a child was of his blood without needing to visit in person.
‘But what if…’
What if, by some small error, the spell didn’t work properly?
What if, due to a mistake, he lost his and Freesia’s child?
So even when others tried to dissuade him, he couldn’t endure not seeing for himself.
On the way to check, he would always carry a sliver of hope.
And how many times had he shattered that hope with his own hands…?
〈You can’t expect success on the first try.〉
At one time, Izar had tried to console himself that way.
That he could go on checking orphanage after orphanage, looking into the backgrounds of unclear children, confirming them over and over again.
But now…?
“Try testing these children as well.”
“Yes, Milord!”
Daphir responded energetically and quickly prepared the scrying basin used to test bloodlines.
Those around them watched with faint hope, but it didn’t take long before Daphir let out a disappointed sound.
“Ah……”
The energies in the basin did not mix.
Not a single one of the five children brought from this orphanage.
While Daphir and the headmistress were at a loss for what to do, only Izar gazed down at the basin with eyes so sunken they seemed devoid of feeling.
“……”
Another failure.
‘I’m not even surprised.’
This time, the disappointment stung less.
After doing this for three years, at some point, he had instinctively begun rejecting the emotion itself.
He simply couldn’t keep enduring the cycle of hope and heartbreak again and again.
Without saying a word, Izar turned on his heel.
“Let’s go.”
“Yes. Allow me to escort you, Milord!”
Daphir handed a suitable gratuity to the orphanage director as a token of appreciation and hurried after his master.
As energetic as he usually was, even he didn’t dare speak freely.
Words like “Next time, I’m sure you’ll find the young master” were…
‘How long will he keep searching?’
Daphir, staring at Izar’s back, had the same thought that everyone else wondered about.
A child whose very existence was uncertain—no one knew what they looked like, or which parent they resembled more. They might not even have been born.
‘But even His Highness the Imperial Prince couldn’t stop him.’
So who could possibly tell the duke to give up searching for his own child?
At least as he was now, he seemed determined to scour every corner of the empire until the day he died.
Warm spring sunlight poured down over the heads of the group.
But to Izar, that sunlight was nothing more than a cold, empty light.
