The Abandoned and Terminally Ill Lady Married a Monster - Chapter 14
Chapter 14
Daykin frowned slightly at Minerva’s strange—almost sly—look.
“So, have you made a list of potential gifts?”
“…I haven’t decided on anything,” Daykin admitted, a touch of wounded pride in his voice. Minerva murmured sympathetically.
“…What do girls like?”
“Well, not all girls are the same. That’s rather a narrow-minded question. It would be better to consider what she likes. What are her interests? And how much time do you have? I’ll help you.”
‘Time’s already run out.’
He barely had time to find something by tomorrow, let alone discover her interests. Daykin stared glumly at his plate. Minerva, amused by her son’s serious contemplation over a birthday present, couldn’t help but smile. Yes, a sensitive adolescent should be occupied with such concerns. No matter his future role, it wasn’t healthy for him to be burdened with adult worries.
Matters of the Dukedom could wait until he was older, perhaps in his late teens. Until then, it was Minerva’s responsibility. Even if her husband’s condition became public, she could protect Daykin’s position until he came of age. Her family held considerable influence within the Imperial Palace. Of course, the worst-case scenario would be a forced revelation, and she would do everything in her power to prevent that.
“Hmm. If you can’t decide, give her jewelry. Everyone likes jewelry. It holds its value, even if she decides to sell it later.”
Sell it? Such a depressing thought. Minerva’s smile stretched from ear to ear. Daykin, observing his mother, sighed inwardly.
‘I shouldn’t have said anything.’
He could already picture her humming brightly tomorrow morning, asking if he’d chosen a gift.
“So, when is the birthday party? You need to eat more before then. You need to be healthy to attend the party.” And you look more handsome when you’re healthy, not so thin. Minerva added this last part subtly, causing Daykin to exhale deeply, out of his mother’s sight.
“There is no party. And even if there were, I wouldn’t tell you.” And I was about to eat. Not to look more handsome, mind you. What do I care about impressing her? I just want to be healthier. Suddenly feeling a surge of appetite, he began to eat.
‘Look at him,’ Minerva thought, intrigued. She briefly considered assigning a servant to discover the identity of the girl who had captured her son’s attention.
‘No, I’ll restrain myself, even though I’m dying to know. I’ll find out soon enough.’
If her son, who usually avoided parties like the plague, suddenly decided to attend one, it would undoubtedly be for this girl. Minerva dismissed the matter lightly. A childish secret couldn’t possibly remain hidden for long. A little digging would reveal everything, but she wouldn’t intrude on her son’s innocent infatuation.
So she thought. It would be five long years before Minerva discovered the identity of the woman her son loved so deeply. And that this woman had saved his life. And perhaps… that she would face someone she thought she’d never see again.
***
While Daykin pondered Ailee’s bygone birthday, Ailee walked toward the gardener’s cottage, her stomach twisting with a feeling of dread. Each step pounded in her chest, a frantic drumbeat against the rising tide of anxiety. She knew she’d done nothing wrong, yet a premonition, dark and heavy, clung to her like a shadow. Her hands had gone white.
‘What if… what if, by some impossible chance, the twins played a prank and hid the pendant in my room? What if it’s found there? What will become of me?’
Was there anywhere further to be cast out? Would she be thrown out naked into the streets? Would she be sold to a circus, as the servants whispered? Or worse, suffer some fate even more terrible, like those she’d read about in books? The spiraling thoughts grew so bleak that Ailee shook her head slightly.
‘I’m being overly sensitive again. It’s not possible. Why would the twins hide the pendant in my room? It’s these thoughts, these overly paranoid thoughts, that make Mother dislike me.’
Paranoid. It wasn’t a word a fifteen-year-old should know.
“Why are you trembling so? What have we done to frighten you so much! Honestly, lost in your paranoia…” Grandmother’s words echoed in her memory, a constant refrain. Ailee turned the word over in her mind, wondering if her own nature was the reason she was so disliked. This time, it was just her anxiety, she told herself, as she forced herself closer to the gardener’s cottage, step by agonizing step.
“I thought of something even more fun.” Lane’s words, spoken earlier, suddenly rang in Ailee’s ears just as the latch clicked and the door began to open. Why was she remembering that now?
‘Could that “something more fun” be…?’
