Adeline P.O.V.
I woke up in the middle of the night.
Turning to my side, I saw my son sleeping soundly, his tiny arms wrapped around my waist. I chuckled softly and gently brushed my fingers through his hair.
Carefully, I moved his arms away and got out of bed. I slipped on a long coat to keep warm and decided to step out of the room.
As I looked around, I was struck by how beautiful the manor was. It was even more enchanting than how the books had described it.
Holding a candle lamp carefully, I walked slowly through the halls. A moment later, I stopped in front of a portrait—it was the Duke's. He looked cold, distant… devoid of any warmth.
I glanced at the other portraits along the wall. Family pictures, perhaps—but none of them radiated warmth or love. Such a peculiar lineage.
Then I noticed an empty space on the wall, a clear sign that a portrait had once hung there. I couldn't help but wonder what it had been.
Through the window, I caught sight of a beautiful garden just beyond the manor.
I made my way downstairs, searching for an exit. Once outside, I stepped into the garden, its tranquility wrapping around me like a gentle whisper.
The garden was bathed in a soft, silvery glow from the moonlight above. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves, carrying with it the faint, sweet scent of roses and lavender. Neatly trimmed hedges lined the cobblestone paths, winding gracefully through beds of blooming flowers in hues of deep crimson, pale ivory, and soft lilac. Dew clung to each petal like tiny crystals, glistening under the moon. Tall, ancient trees stood like silent guardians, their branches swaying gently in the night air. In the distance, a marble fountain trickled quietly, its sound soothing and melodic, adding to the peaceful charm of the garden.
My eyes were drawn to a single rose. I crouched down and lightly touched its petals, lost in the moment.
"What are you doing here?"
A familiar male voice broke the silence. I looked up quickly and saw the Duke, watching me with a mix of curiosity and caution.
"Y-Your Grace," I said, rising and offering a respectful curtsy. I hadn't expected to see him here. I wasn't prepared for this encounter. "I… I woke up and decided to take a walk. Umm… is the garden off-limits?"
Duke Darwin shook his head and stared at the rose I had been admiring moments ago. There was a look in his eyes… nostalgia, perhaps.
"Duke?" I asked softly.
"Oh, the garden isn't off-limits," he replied, turning slightly. "It's just uncommon to find someone wandering around at this hour." He turned to leave. "You should return to bed. It's not safe for a woman to be out so late. But don't worry—this estate is well-guarded."
And just like that, he left me alone in the garden.
What a short conversation. Typical of him.
The next morning, my son and I had breakfast in the dining hall—and to my surprise, the Duke joined us.
"Dane, do you want me to cut your steak for you?" I offered gently.
"I can manage on my own, Mom," he replied, trying to sound grown-up.
"Aww, my nine-year-old is being independent now," I teased with a smile. "But Mommy wants to help. Can't I?"
Dane looked at me, hesitating.
Duke Darwin set his glass down after taking a sip. "He should learn to be independent at a young age."
My ears perked up. What is he doing? Is he trying to act like a father now? I don't like his approach.
"Dane is still a child," I said calmly. "He has the right to act like one. There's no need to rush him into maturity."
The Duke looked at me with a faint smirk. "Ah, my apologies. I may have overstepped. I'm not his father, after all."
That stung.
Dane glanced up at me, sensing the tension, and gently tugged at my sleeve. "Mom, can you help me with the steak?"
I looked down at him. He could feel the strain between us. He knew the truth—that the Duke was his father—but since I hadn't told the Duke yet, Dane was unsure of where he stood.
I patted his head gently. "Of course, sweetheart."
Later that morning, I knocked on Duke Darwin's office door.
"Come in."
At his words, I entered. He was seated at his desk, writing on a document.
He looked so handsome with his spectacles on. If only he weren't so cold… I might've actually had a crush on him.
He glanced up. "Oh, it's you. What brings you to my office, Lady Adeline?"
"It's about Dane. I'm sure you've already noticed—"
"He's my son, isn't he?"
I paused. Just as I expected—he knew. In the novel, when he first laid eyes on Dane, he sensed the boy was his.
"Yes. That's correct."
He leaned back slightly. "Must be from that woman. I've only ever spent one night with someone."
"That woman's name is Irene, Your Grace."
"I see."
I didn't know what to feel—anger, perhaps. He was so calm, so indifferent. It was because of him that Irene ended up in that state. And now he spoke as if none of it mattered.
"Is that all, Your Grace?" I asked sharply.
"Hm?" he responded, barely glancing up.
"I asked if that's all. No questions about how Irene has been? Or how your son has lived these past nine years? Nothing?" I said, voice trembling. "You can punish me if you want, but I'll say it anyway—you're so heartless. Sometimes I wish you weren't his father at all."
I turned on my heel and stormed out of the office. If I stayed another second, I might have grabbed him by the collar.
I walked briskly down the corridor, wiping away the tears that had begun to fall.
My poor son… I'll do whatever it takes to protect him. From his fate—and from his father.