Chapter 223

Until now, Iona had believed that Hayden had confined and raised her to cover up his crimes.

But Hayden could have chosen a far simpler solution.

If he had killed her when she was just a newborn, he would never have had to bear any risk or burden.

It wasn’t as if Hayden was a man of conscience who hesitated to dispose of a child simply because they had already been born.

He had forced countless women to miscarry—so why had he shown such an unusual level of consideration only for Iona?

What was different about her compared to the siblings who had died in their mother’s womb?

Why was she the only one who had survived?

‘Yes, your age. I know your real age, you see. In truth, you’re even older than Nils. You’ve been living your whole life thinking your younger brother was your elder.’

‘Iona, how old are you this year?’

‘Find your sister. She’s two years older than you. She was born in the summer, and maybe… just maybe, she resembles my sister. Even a little.’

The words spoken by Baron Franz, the Empress, and Archduke Ernst swirled through her mind in succession.

It was an absurd thought—closer to sheer delusion than a logical assumption—but…

If she was truly the child of Princess Teresa…

If that was the reason Hayden had lied about her age and raised her in secrecy…

Then all these suspicions would finally fall into place.

No one else might have known, but she had always been aware.

The birthdate that had been arbitrarily assigned to her upon her adoption, the year she was supposedly born—none of it was real.

Hayden had claimed that her mother had been of lowly status, but there was never any real evidence to support that claim.

And there was one more thing that stirred her doubts.

‘My Noona has a generous heart.’

Richard had always, out of habit, called her “Noona.”

If her recent hypothesis was correct—if her mother had truly been Princess Teresa—then that meant she and Richard were cousins.

How had the secret of her birth, unknown even to the Empress, managed to reach Richard’s ears?

Did Richard truly know that they were blood relatives, or had he simply insisted on using the term for some other reason?

It was worth verifying.

Not only for her own sake but also to fulfill the promise she had made to the Archduke to find Princess Teresa’s lost child.

“Marsha.”

“Yes?”

“Where did the butler I dismissed end up working?”

“I heard he’s working at a small estate near the capital.”

Leaving behind a prestigious central noble family only to end up serving a minor provincial noble—it must have been quite the humiliation for a man who had taken great pride in managing House Modrov.

His wages likely weren’t nearly as generous as they had been before.

Their parting hadn’t been on the best of terms, but that might actually work in her favor—perhaps it would make persuading him even easier.

By now, he must have fully realized what it meant to live outside the shadow of House Modrov.

Few people were strong-willed enough to keep their mouths shut in the face of financial desperation.

“Send someone to bring him here at first light. The sooner, the better.”

“Will he come willingly?”

“We don’t have to be too gentlemanly about it.”

Marsha gave a knowing nod of understanding.

Leaving House Modrov, the butler had never once spoken a word about Iona’s origins. It seemed he had not been privy to Hayden secrets the way Baron Franz had been.

Still, given how closely he had served Hayden, he must have at least a few clues that could be of use.

What those clues were, she would only know once she faced him in person.

As Masha folded the clothes she had taken off, Iona slowly sank into the hot bath.

Her silver hair floated to the surface of the water, reminding her of the father she despised.

She didn’t resemble Hayden much, but even between them, there were a few undeniable similarities.

Silver hair, a long neck that seemed disproportionate to her height, and a sharp jawline.

If those were traits inherited from her father, then surely, there must have been things she had inherited from her mother as well.

‘Like the Archduke said, even just a little?’

Iona let out an involuntary chuckle before pressing her curved lips beneath the water to stifle her smile.

Then, she quietly tried to picture her mother’s face in her mind.

The woman in her imagination was too gentle, too ideal—so much so that she felt unreal.

She couldn’t even recall what it would feel like to be held in that mother’s embrace.

Iona raised her hands and awkwardly wrapped her own arms around herself.

She stared at her blurred reflection on the surface of the water for a long time, lost in the past, until Marsha stirred the bathwater and asked, in an utterly mundane tone, how the temperature was.

****

Since returning to Count Nigel’s estate from the Archduke’s residence, Iona and Leroy had found no time to rest.

Their meeting with the Archduke hadn’t been the conclusion of their work—it had merely been the beginning.

They had set their subordinates to gathering every scrap of information that could serve as a lead, and as a result, the duke and duchess’s bedroom had transformed from an intimate space for lovers into what resembled a strategy headquarters.

Faced with the overwhelming piles of documents, Iona made a conscious effort to see the situation in a positive light.

“At the very least, we’ve figured out a way to convince the Archduke, haven’t we?”

“Yes, a peaceful resolution.”

Leroy replied as he examined the documents, his voice even, his expression unreadable in its very calmness.

Iona felt a twinge of guilt, knowing that he wasn’t here because he truly wanted to be.

From the very beginning, Leroy had not been interested in finding the Archduke’s missing son. His original stance had been to make it clear that forming an alliance with them was in the Archduke’s best interest.

Had they chosen the latter route, the negotiations might have dragged on, but at least they wouldn’t be stuck searching for a needle in a haystack.

Leroy shrugged, as if to emphasize that very point.

“This isn’t quite what I imagined for our honeymoon.”

Iona forced an awkward smile.

In truth, the only reason they had taken on the arduous task of searching for the Archduke’s son was because of her own slip of the tongue.

The Archduke had initially shifted his request, asking them to find his sister’s daughter instead of his ambiguous, long-lost son.

But Iona, driven by a sense of unease, had firmly promised to look into the son’s whereabouts as well.

If it turned out that the princess’s daughter was, in fact, herself… Could she even tell the Archduke the truth?

She wasn’t sure.

So she had taken on the search for the Archduke’s son as a form of insurance.

‘There’s always the possibility that Princess Teresa’s daughter died long ago. And even if I am her bloodline… that doesn’t mean it would bring anything good.’

Everyone who could have proven her true parentage was dead.

Even if the truth of her royal lineage came to light now, she would gain nothing from it.

The throne was already set to pass to Richard. If she and Leroy attempted to challenge that, their actions would be considered treason.

And Leroy had every intention of settling his grudge against the royal family.

‘Yes, that’s the real problem.’

If the truth of her lineage were revealed—the very truth she had spent her life resenting—how would Leroy react?

She doubted his attitude toward her would change even if he learned of it now.

But she also had no desire to needlessly stir up conflict.

The best possible outcome, should she reveal the truth, would be Leroy’s understanding.

Yes, just as he had accepted her past as someone who once served Richard, she would have to seek his acceptance once again.

‘If nothing is going to change, then… is there any reason to go through all that?’

She had lived her entire life without a mother.

And yet, she was still calling the butler to verify the truth.

Perhaps, despite everything, there was still a small part of her that wanted to know where she truly came from.

-- End Of The Chapter --

 

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