The Thing Only I Didn’t Know

After the grand and complex wedding ended, the after-party naturally began.

The men gathered at Cavern House, sharing trivial stories and drinking.

Clayton usually didn't attend such gatherings, but today was different. He joined the men, silently sipping wine.

He had decided to avoid Dalia, fearing his thoughts would become more entangled if they were together. Unfortunately, distancing himself from her did not simplify his mind or bring about the miracle of untangling his complex thoughts.

As various voices merged into a hum of chatter, a loud voice drew everyone's attention.

"By the way, I heard that Viscount Monsell recently had a second child?"

"Haha, yes, a sturdy son."

Viscount Monsell rubbed his nose, his shoulders seeming to rise with pride.

"Oh, congratulations! A son is a must for the family! You must feel relieved now, Viscount."

"To be honest, I thought either a daughter or a son would be fine, but having a son is different. My daughter only likes her mother, so I've felt a bit lonely."

"That's because you don't know yet, Viscount. Sons also only like their mothers—though that's mostly when they're young."

Listening to this pointless, utterly unproductive, and dull conversation made his head throb.

Even his tie felt as though it was choking him, causing discomfort. Clayton silently continued to sip his wine without responding.

In such a short time, the repeated rise and fall of his emotions had left him mentally exhausted.

A significant portion of his current worries stemmed from the pendant, which appeared to symbolize something shared between the Crown Prince and Dalia.

Recalling what had happened during the day, Clayton's darkened eyes reflected a faint emptiness.

As he emotionlessly continued drinking, Caddison cautiously approached and whispered discreetly.

"Your Grace, I have something to report."

"If it's not urgent, save it for later. I don't want to hear work-related reports right now."

Even if a significant problem had arisen, he didn't trust himself to handle it rationally at the moment.

He instructed to postpone the report and reached for his glass again.

"It's about the Duchess."

Until Caddison said those words.

At the mention of Dalia, Clayton's hand froze mid-reach. An inexplicable sense of foreboding overcame him—a feeling he had grown quite accustomed to.

Rising from his seat, Clayton moved to an empty room in the house.

After Caddison checked their surroundings and closed the door, Clayton's face hardened further as he spoke.

"What's the matter? Has something happened to Dalia?"

Instead of answering, Caddison pulled something out of his pocket and handed it to him—a pair of small pearl earrings.

"What's this?"

Clayton narrowed his eyes, carefully examining what Caddison had presented.

"Pearl earrings?"

"I found them at the Merrymond auction and won the bid."

"So, what about it? Does this have anything to do with Dalia?"

Caddison shook his head and continued, his expression growing even more serious.

"Take a closer look. It's something you're familiar with, Your Grace."

Clayton picked up the earrings from Caddison's hand and began inspecting them closely for any distinct features.

Gradually, his eyes narrowed, and his tightly closed lips parted slowly.

"These are…"

"Yes, they belonged to the late Duchess."

Why was an heirloom passed down through the matriarchs of the Seayer family here?

"Where did this come from?"

"I found it at the Merrymond auction."

Clayton raised his eyebrows at the mention of an auction.

"This is something the Duchess should have. At first, we thought it might be fake since there are many who covet noble jewelry."

"..."

"Still, just in case, we went ahead and secured it. It turned out to be genuine. We even investigated whether it could have been stolen, but there were no signs of that. Apparently, a young woman sold it to a fence."

A young woman? Could it be…?

"Was it Dalia?"

At the Duke's question, Caddison avoided giving a direct answer.

"We need to keep all possibilities open."

Clayton fell into thought at the vague response. The money sent to Dalia every month was already substantial. However, since it was mostly in checks, tracking its use would be easy.

'Was she trying to save up a secret fund? Or perhaps…?'

'Did she need money I wasn't supposed to know about? But for what?'

Clayton gripped the earrings, now back in his possession, tightly. Watching him carefully, Caddison asked cautiously.

"What shall we do? If we publicize this and investigate everyone working at the estate…"

"No, leave it for now."

"…Pardon? If we do that, the Duke's jewelry could continue to be smuggled out. We were lucky to retrieve this one, but if the number increases, some may be lost forever."

"Even so, leave it for now."

Feeling as if his list of issues to handle was growing, Clayton's head began to throb. However, Caddison had no choice but to nod at the Duke's firm order.

"…Understood. Then, when do you plan to return to the estate?"

"…I'm not sure."

Originally, he had planned to return after clearing his head. However, after hearing this new report about Dalia, he couldn't fathom how he should face her at the estate.

Clayton spoke in a subdued voice.

"I'll stay a little longer."

"Yes, understood."

With a hardened expression, Clayton left the room and returned to the bustling hall.

The men, who had been exchanging trivial stories, were now engrossed in poker, shouting loudly.

"Yes, that's it!"

"This time, I won."

"Ugh, let's play again!"

The room was thick with the smell of alcohol and cigar smoke.

Clayton usually despised such lowly atmospheres, but with his mind so tangled it felt like it might burst, even the noise was strangely welcome.

He sat on a sofa in a corner and pulled out a cigar. Just as he was about to light it—

"Thank you for inviting me to such a splendid place, Your Grace."

It was Viscount Monsell. Somehow, he had approached unnoticed, sitting across from Clayton with a friendly smile.

* * *

Cavern House.

This was a prestigious venue accessible only to those with clear social credentials, holding high-ranking positions, or belonging to an established noble lineage—a core hub of high society.

If one didn't meet these criteria, an existing member had to vouch for their status. It wasn't surprising that Viscount Monsell was beaming with delight.

Not just any noble could enter, so it was only natural for a lower-ranking noble like him to feel grateful.

"It's nothing, so there's no need for thanks."

After the wedding, Clayton had initially planned to invite Viscount Monsell to the estate for a meal.

However, due to the events at the wedding, he had changed his plans and brought him to Cavern House instead, so it wasn't something to be overly thankful for.

Clayton lit his cigar and leaned back deeply into the sofa.

"How have you been? I hear you've had a son."

"Yes. He arrived earlier than expected, which worried me, but fortunately, both my wife and child are healthy."

"That's good to hear."

Viscount Monsell smiled sheepishly.

"Oh, by the way, I heard about the plan to turn Hudson into a tourist attraction. I've reviewed the cooperation request you sent to my family. Combining the two regions into a tourism product is a brilliant idea."

Ah, right. Hudson.

Clayton recalled the plan he had forgotten. It was all for Dalia.

"Thanks to you, it seems there will be more visitors to the territory. If there's anything else I can help with, please let me know."

"Sure, I'll count on you."

After that, they exchanged formal pleasantries. Then, as if recalling something important, Viscount Monsell asked:

"By the way, when is the Duchess's due date? Is it still far off?"

"Due date?"

Clayton, who was smoking his cigar, frowned.

"Yes, the Duchess's expected delivery date."

What on earth was he talking about? Asking about a due date for someone who wasn't even pregnant.

Clayton furrowed his brows and asked again.

"…What are you talking about?"

It was only then that Viscount Monsell's expression darkened, realizing something was amiss.

"You don't know yet?"

"What exactly?"

Clayton asked once more, his voice tinged with unease.

And the words that followed left him frozen.

"The Duchess of Seayer is pregnant, isn't she?"

The shock of buried suspicions turning into reality was far greater than he had imagined.