Chapter 80

At Dylan’s words, Noah, who had been sulking all this time, jumped with pure excitement. Agnes, however, was too startled to respond.

Taking a child to a hunting ground was never an easy task. Children tired quickly, could not balance well on horseback, and were impatient when hungry or thirsty.

Bringing a child along meant it would no longer be hunting but childcare.

Viscount Tavella had brought his daughter only because the girl was lively and fond of horses, but Dylan had no such obligation.

Agnes, without realizing it, held Noah’s hand tightly and spoke hesitantly.

“I’m of course happy about it, and so is Noah. But taking a child to the hunting ground will be quite troublesome. It might make the hunt difficult for you.”

Perhaps sensing his mother’s hesitation, Noah’s bright face dimmed with disappointment.

Agnes felt guilty, but affection alone could not justify burdening Dylan further. He had already done more than enough for them.

Yet Dylan brushed off all her worries with a calm, reassuring smile.

For a brief moment, he leaned in toward her. His tall frame and cool scent surrounded her completely, casting a shadow over her slender figure.

Just as her shoulders tensed, Dylan whispered playfully,

“Madam, I can ride better than Viscount Tavella.”

His tone was both confident and teasing, as if sharing a small secret.

Then he straightened again, his expression composed, waiting for her response.

With Noah’s eyes sparkling in eager anticipation beside him, Agnes could not bring herself to refuse.

“Then… I’ll leave it to you.”

As soon as she agreed, Noah ran to Dylan, wrapped his small arms around his leg, and hugged tightly.

“Your Grace, thank you!”

The sudden affection made Dylan freeze. It was not that he disliked being touched, but he clearly had no idea how to respond.

Agnes crouched behind Noah and gently reminded him,

“Noah, you must listen to His Grace, alright?”

“Yes!”

“If you feel unwell, tell him right away. No crying, and speak clearly, understood?”

“Yes!”

Overjoyed at the thought of going hunting, Noah nodded enthusiastically after every word.

Meanwhile, Dylan looked down at the child clinging to his leg with quiet wonder.

The little body pressed against him felt so warm and fragile that he worried even a small movement might hurt the boy.

‘Is it really alright to take this little one to the hunting ground?’

For a brief moment, Dylan regretted his decision, but there was no turning back now.

Soon, the sound of trumpets filled the air, announcing that the hunt was about to begin.

“Your Grace, thank you again. Please take care of him,” Agnes said as she bowed her head slightly before returning to her seat.

Baroness Orwellin, who had been chatting at another table, turned to her in delight.

“Oh my, Duchess. His Grace is taking the young Overhen boy to the hunt?”

Agnes glanced toward the hunting ground.

From afar, she saw Dylan lift Noah into his arm and mount his horse with practiced ease. She could almost hear Noah’s cheerful laughter even at a distance.

“Yes,” Agnes replied softly.

She could have said something more, but her throat tightened, and only that single word escaped.

Baroness Orwellin gently placed a hand on her shoulder. Though the gesture broke etiquette, Agnes did not mind. There was genuine warmth in her touch.

“That’s truly wonderful,” the Baroness said kindly.

Agnes smiled in return, her expression bright and genuine this time.

“Yes. It really is.”

* * *

Dylan rode at a much slower pace than usual, keeping Noah seated carefully in front of him.

Normally, Nocturne would have grown restless at such a slow speed, but the intelligent stallion seemed to understand the situation. Without needing any guidance, he adjusted his stride to a gentle rhythm.

Dylan held Noah securely with one arm and the reins with the other.

It was more difficult than expected. The child was so small and soft that even the slightest pressure might hurt him. That alone made Dylan slow down even more.

“Your Grace, we’re going so fast!”

To Dylan and Nocturne, the horse was barely walking, but Noah laughed with joy at the gentle rocking motion.

Relieved, Dylan kept the pace steady. Nocturne snorted softly as if acknowledging the decision and moved on contentedly.

Noah, however, misunderstood the sound and turned to Dylan with concern.

“Your Grace, what if Nocturne gets tired from carrying me?”

“That won’t happen.”

Dylan’s answer came out too blunt, and he quickly realized his tone sounded stiff. But he still wasn’t sure how to speak to a child naturally.

Fortunately, Noah was not the kind of boy to take offense. He continued to chatter brightly without a hint of fear or shyness.

“But Mom says I’m getting heavy now.”

“That may be true for your mother. Nocturne is much stronger than she is, so he’ll be fine.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

Reassured, Noah grinned and patted the horse’s neck with his small hands.

“You’re amazing, Nocturne. So cool.”

His innocent praise made Dylan’s lips twitch slightly. Even he found the sight endearing.

Just as he thought to move a little deeper into the hunting ground, another horse approached from the side.

Its coat was an unremarkable shade of brown, yet it gleamed with good care and strong muscle. The rider atop it, however, was what drew Dylan’s attention.

“Long time no see, Dylan.”

The voice belonged to someone he knew well.

Her long golden hair was neatly braided to stay out of the way, and she wore her hunting attire with practiced grace.

She was one of the few allowed to call him by name, a privilege he had given her long ago.

“…It has been a while, Lady Peridot,” Dylan replied in a calm, low voice that carried no warmth.

Marcella gave a faint, amused laugh.

“So you no longer call me by name either.”

“I’d prefer if you did the same.”

“As you wish, Duke Vasteron.”

Though their exchange was brief, the air between them grew sharp and tense.

Without meaning to, Dylan tightened his grip around Noah. He did not want the child hearing any part of this conversation.

But Noah, unaware of the subtle hostility, looked up at Marcella with bright eyes.

“Miss Marcella!”

The innocent greeting softened the tension instantly.

Marcella, who had been staring at Dylan with cool green eyes, cleared her throat and spoke gently.

“You remember me, young master?”

“Yes. You’re the one Violet likes.”

“Well, I’m honored to be remembered so kindly.”

Dylan blinked in mild surprise. Noah knew Marcella?

If there had been contact with the Peridot family, Agnes would have mentioned it herself or informed Gavelin. She was not someone to make such decisions alone.

So this must be Noah’s own acquaintance, likely through that girl named Violet.

Marcella, after studying the boy for a moment, seemed to come to a decision.

“Duke Vasteron, are you aware of who this child is?”

Their eyes met sharply in the air. Dylan frowned slightly before answering.

“Of course.”

“I see.”

Marcella let out a quiet, humorless laugh and shook her head. Her polite smile remained, but her expression was as dry and fragile as autumn leaves ready to crumble.