Chapter 42

Dylan froze awkwardly, unable to either hold Agnes tightly or push her away.

There was a fresh, familiar scent clinging to her that he couldn’t quite name.

When she lifted her head from his chest, her face was flushed red like a ripe apple. She looked both thrilled and flustered, unable to contain her excitement.

“Your Grace, I think things are finally going to work out. I really might be able to raise Noah myself. You think so too, don’t you?”

Agnes chattered with a bright smile, then suddenly realized where she was and whose arms she was in. She jumped back, startled.

“Ah, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Dylan steadied her by placing a hand on her back so she wouldn’t fall.

“It’s alright. People already believe we’re engaged and in love, so a little contact like this won’t seem strange.”

“R-right.”

Her ears turned red as she took a small step toward him.

Dylan looked down at her and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

Then, strangely enough, he felt as though he had experienced this before.

Her face was so close that their breaths mingled, and the soft scent surrounding her felt oddly familiar. The feeling of her drawing away, the faint weight when he pulled her back into his arms, none of it seemed new to him.

It made no sense, yet somehow it did. Had he ever held Agnes before?

Their relationship had always been a practical arrangement, not one that allowed for moments like this.

“Ah, I think I should step back now. It wouldn’t look good for a man and woman to be standing so close in a holy courtroom.”

Agnes smiled awkwardly and quickly moved out of his arms.

Seeing her flustered face, fragments of memory came back to Dylan.

It was from when he had drunk her blood.

Now it was his turn to cover his mouth in embarrassment.

In his own recollection, he had simply placed his lips to her arm, nothing more than a formal act to survive.

But each time he had fed, he had lost control of himself. Without realizing it, he had pulled her into his arms with desperate strength.

Why had he done that? Even if his mind had been clouded, that was no excuse.

‘Did I really behave so rudely?’

Dylan had never once in his life touched a woman unnecessarily. Such gestures weren’t his nature, nor had he ever met anyone who made him want to.

What shocked him most was that Agnes had never once pushed him away.

Each time it ended, she would quietly slip out of his arms, and because he was dazed from the blood, he barely remembered it.

Now he could only groan inwardly and wonder how to apologize for it, or how to act around her from now on.

They stood side by side in silence, the air thick with awkwardness, when the priest returned holding Noah’s hand.

Agnes looked relieved, almost grateful for the interruption. She took a deep breath and hurried toward them.

The moment she saw Noah, her face lit up again, and all traces of awkwardness faded. Only Dylan was left standing stiffly in the uneasy atmosphere.

When the priest handed Noah’s hand to her, Agnes asked with hopeful eyes,

“Um, Priest… how did it go? Until God gives His answer, where should Noah stay?”

Even though the outcome was nearly certain, Agnes still looked anxious.

The priest, perhaps moved by her sincerity, smiled gently for the first time.

“Until we receive God’s guidance, it would be best for Lady Everchen to look after Noah Overhen. The child himself expressed that wish very strongly.”

“Oh, thank heavens.”

Agnes covered her mouth, eyes glistening with tears. She held Noah’s hand tightly and bowed repeatedly to the priest.

“Thank you, Priest. Thank you so much. I’ll never forget this kindness. I promise to serve God faithfully and raise the child with love and devotion. I’ll do everything I can so you’ll never regret your decision.”

The priest chuckled and waved his hand.

“That’s quite enough. Your sincerity will be judged by God Himself. Offer Him your thanks.”

“Yes, Priest. Thank you.”

After one last bow of gratitude, Agnes held Noah’s hand warmly and turned back toward Dylan.

Her face was so bright that even Dylan, who had been standing awkwardly, couldn’t help but smile back.

“You’ve done well, my lady. Noah must be tired too, so let’s return to the townhouse.”

The three of them, Agnes, Noah, and Dylan, left the courtroom together with steady steps. It was a completely different sight from when Rickman had been dragged out earlier.

When they reached the carriage, Dylan, as always, went to escort Agnes but paused, glancing down at Noah.

Noah clung to Agnes’s leg and stared up at him.

Agnes looked between them with an awkward expression and patted Noah’s back.

“Noah, don’t stare at His Grace like that.”

“Mom.”

Noah said the word clearly, more confidently than before, and pointed at Dylan. Agnes gasped and gently took his small hand.

“You mustn’t point at His Grace.”

Noah immediately lowered his hand but continued looking at Dylan with curious eyes. He seemed to be wondering who this man was who stayed so close to his mother.

Dylan smiled softly down at him.

“I’ll tell you once we’re inside the carriage.”

He then slipped his hands under Noah’s arms and lifted him up into the carriage.

Noah gasped in surprise and began to stomp his feet as if wanting to run back to Agnes.

When she hurried to climb in after him, Dylan offered his hand.

“Ah, I’m sorry.”

Agnes apologized and took his hand as he helped her up.

Once all three were inside, Dylan knocked twice on the carriage wall to signal the driver.

As the carriage began to move, Noah pressed himself close to Agnes and stared at Dylan again. His green eyes were full of curiosity and a hint of caution.

“Mom.”

He tugged lightly on her sleeve, repeating the only word he had managed to say since regaining his voice. He said it often, as though afraid she might disappear again.

Agnes stroked his hair, hesitating.

She needed to introduce Dylan but didn’t quite know how.

“Noah, this is His Grace the Duke of Vasteron. He’s the one who helped us reunite. He’ll also be preparing a place for us to live from now on. And, um…”

She trailed off, unsure how to explain that she would soon marry him.

Dylan, arms folded, watched their exchange. Normally, he might have added something, but in this situation, he had no idea what to say.

The only child he had ever met was his nephew Wilhelm, Cali’s son.

But since he had played no part in raising Wilhelm, that experience offered no guidance here.

Now he was facing something entirely new, the son of his fiancée.

For the first time in his life, Dylan found conversation difficult.

He composed himself and spoke calmly to the boy.

“You and your mother will stay here for a short while before moving north to Vasteron. I’ll make sure you live comfortably there, so you don’t have to worry.”

But neither Agnes’s words nor Dylan’s reassurances seemed to answer what the boy truly wanted to know.

He understood that the man was a duke from Vasteron. But why was he with his mother? Why were they going with him?

Noah tapped his chest in frustration, unable to put his questions into words.

Agnes gently wrapped her hand around his small fist and whispered.

“Noah, whatever you’re wondering, I’ll explain everything slowly later. Can you promise me that?”

She held out her pinky finger.

Noah pouted slightly but hooked his small finger around hers, even stamping it as if sealing a contract.

Even then, he didn’t take his cautious eyes off Dylan.