Chapter 26: Your Grace, let me take the Young Lord

The scene was absurd: the terrifying cold Duke of the North, the small, trembling heir on his lap, and the ’meddling’ tutor from the capital sitting beside them like a family advisor... Just what was this madness?

"Why is everyone simply staring?" The Duke suddenly asked, his voice rumbling in the hall, and his deep, cold blue eyes bore through their souls. "Dance."

It was a simple word, but it felt like a heavy command and everyone began to move like marionettes in a dancing performance.

Julian looked at the Duke. Duke Alaric... What sort of man was he?

The minutes ticked by. The Phoenix fire kept the room in a state of enchanted warmth, making the wait feel less like torture. Lucius began to relax, his head leaning against his father’s chest.

The little boy’s heart raced and he wondered if this was a dream. If it is... If the warmth he was feeling from the body of this man was fake, then... He didn’t want to wake up.

He wished to stay in his father’s arms, he wished for his father to hold him just like this a little longer.

A little longer...

11:59 PM, the time said.

Julian watched the clock, and the Duke, in turn, watched him. The moment the clock struck 12, he announced, like a fixed alarm clock.

"The time has come," The clock began to ding, announcing the start of a new day.

"Yes," Julian said, nodding his head. "Shall we change venues then?" He asked and the Duke narrowed his eyes. "I mean, wouldn’t you want to be in a place where you can speak to her without disturbance?"

Yes, that was ideal.

"Very well,"

But just as the Duke was about to stand up, he noticed the child in his arms was already fast asleep and leaning into him.

He was so sound asleep but the Duke had not realized it until now.

"This..."

"Shhh," Julian looked at Lucius. How happy he must’ve been. "You need to carry him so he doesn’t wake up?"

"Why should I do that?" The Duke asked, frowning as he saw it as a nuisance.

"Why won’t you do that?" Julian asked and the Duke grimaced.

Why won’t he do that? Obviously, because it was a hassle, but he couldn’t say those words. Julian wouldn’t listen to them as long as it wasn’t reasonable.

And then he frowned. Why was he making decisions based on the tutor’s attitude?

’It’s only because I need him to see Bellanora again,’ he told himself. ’That’s the only reason why I’m letting him act out.’

Yes, that was how they all told themselves at the start, not knowing how they would be consumed later on.

"Now," Julian clasped his hands together silently, knowing he had won before the argument even began. "...shall we head to the young lord’s room? I believe that shall be a conducive place for us to start."

The Duke wasn’t a fan of it but he did not complain.

Everything was to see his wife again, he believed. His patience with this tutor would be rewarded.

He stood up, holding the child to his body, but it was a position Lucius wasn’t comfortable with, since one leg dangled and one leg was bundled up.

Seeing this, Margaret decided to take over, since it was her duty.

"Your Grace, let me take the young Lord." She said but the Duke refused her.

"It’s fine." He said, and then asked a question that shocked not just the nanny, but Julian. "How do I hold him?"

"Pardon?" She was struck with disbelief.

"He doesn’t seem comfortable."

This was the first time he was holding his child, the first time he was ’being’ a father, so there were so many things he didn’t know.

Julian looked, dumbstruck for a second but then felt relieved. The Duke was not without a heart, after all.

"Here, let me help you," he said and positioned Lucius’s head on his father’s shoulder, took his hand out, positioned his legs, and then made sure the Duke positioned his second hand behind his back to support him. "There."

This scene was an eye-opener to all the guests and servants of the manor. For the first time, they would have something to gossip about and the dead mansion wouldn’t seem so dead anymore.

The Duke looked at the boy still sleeping soundly in his arms despite all that movement just now.

He was so light and felt so warm.

His heart made a light thud but he ignored it.

"Let’s go." The Duke said. "Lead the way."

The guests went silent and bowed their heads as the Duke walked past. The musicians also stopped playing and lowered their heads to bow.

Julian walked behind the Duke, who was following the nanny’s lead, and only when they were out of the hall did the chill of winter reach them again.

He watched the Duke’s back again.

He walked a little too stiffly holding Lucius, as if the boy were a delicate piece of porcelain that might shatter if he gripped too hard. It was a fascinating sight: the cold Duke of the North learning the weight of a sleeping child for the first time.

The weight of his own child.

>[Target: Duke Alaric — Status: Intense Internal Conflict]

>[Affection: 10%]

The 10% milestone hit with a soft chime in Julian’s mind. It was a breakthrough. The Duke wasn’t just following a deal anymore; he was experiencing the terrifying vulnerability of being a parent.

What could make a teacher prouder than this?

He wished he could do more to help the Duke open his eyes to his responsibility, but he couldn’t overstep.

Getting ahead of himself just because he was on a roll would only lead him to make mistakes and mess everything up.

They finally reached the Young Lord’s chambers in the East Wing. The room was cold—too cold for a child’s birthday night—but the nanny, Margaret, quickly moved to light the fire in the fireplace, striking a flint over the dry wood.

Her eyes kept darting to Julian, her previous hostility (-1%) wavering into a confused, silent respect, but it never let off to (0%). A bit stingy.

Once the fire had begun to light properly, Margaret bowed her head and looked at the Duke, expecting him to let the boy down now and leave but to her shock, he said,

"You may leave now."

She wanted to open her mouth and speak her mind, but no words came out. Instead, she bowed again.

"Yes, your Grace." She said and walked out, closing the door after herself.