Faith and Trust

"...Pregnant?"

It felt as though time had stopped throughout the world.

A ringing echoed in his ears, and his mind became a swirling storm of confusion. Clayton slowly closed and reopened his eyes, trying to convince himself this was reality, not a dream.

Surprisingly, it was Viscount Monsell who seemed more flustered by Clayton's unexpected reaction.

He had heard his wife's advice to be discreet so many times that it was practically drilled into his head, but it had been quite some time since then, hadn't it?

Surely, by now, the Duchess would have already informed Clayton of her pregnancy.

Clayton, finally regaining his composure, asked slowly.

"...When did you find out?"

The viscount couldn't hide his discomfort as he replied.

"W-when you visited our estate last time... That's when my wife noticed and asked the Duchess about it."

"And then?"

"Well... She said she was pregnant..."

Ha.

Clayton let out a short, bitter laugh.

The atmosphere grew heavy. The viscount couldn't make sense of the duke's reaction.

The Duchess, who was once said to be infertile, was finally pregnant! Surely, this was news to be celebrated, wasn't it?

But Clayton's reaction was as cold as ice, something the viscount found deeply unsettling.

"So, both you and your wife knew about this, yet I was the only one kept in the dark...?"

"I-I'm sure the Duchess intended to tell you when the time was right..."

"Who else knows about this?"

They were mere acquaintances. If even people like them knew, surely others closer to Dalia were aware of her pregnancy as well.

For example...

At that moment, Caddison's earlier words came back to him. Clayton quickly pieced together the events of the day.

First, Dalia and the Crown Prince shared a pendant, seemingly as a token.

Second, Dalia was pregnant.

Third, Dalia had never consumed his blood. Thus, the child couldn't possibly be his.

Lastly, someone connected to Dalia was secretly siphoning off the family's assets.

What did all this mean?

He felt his blood run cold.

What was more absurd than all of this was his surprisingly calm reaction.

He must have sensed it, subconsciously. The subtle, uncomfortable signals from daily life, which had finally culminated in today's events.

The light in his eyes dimmed.

* * *

The carriage carrying Clayton stopped in front of the estate. It was late at night, long after the servants had retired.

Jason, who had been waiting for his return, tensed up upon seeing Clayton's subdued demeanor and asked cautiously.

"Did you have a pleasant evening? Shall I prepare your bath?"

"Where is Dalia?"

"She waited for you for quite a while but just recently fell asleep."

Clayton shook his head briefly.

"Forget the bath for now. Bring me the key to the basement first."

Jason, naturally taking Clayton's jacket, asked in confusion.

"Why do you need the basement key...?"

"From now on, Dalia will be in charge of managing the basement."

The basement housed a vault that stored the family's heirlooms.

It wasn't just a basement in the literal sense, but more like a vast storage vault disguised as one. Only Jason, who oversaw family matters, and Clayton were allowed access.

"Are you really planning to entrust the Duchess with its management? Isn't it a bit premature...?"

Even previous Duchesses had only gained access after five, sometimes even ten years. Dalia, on the other hand, had been with the family for less than a year.

It was an unconventional decision, and Jason couldn't hide his bewilderment.

"Don't you trust Dalia?"

"Well..."

Was trust even the issue here? Jason felt as though a massive stone had suddenly been dropped on him, leaving him without an adequate response.

But then came an unexpected statement.

"I don't trust Dalia."

"Pardon?"

Jason was utterly baffled.

"Then why are you giving her the key?"

"Because I don't trust her."

"...What?"

It made no sense.

Clayton occasionally posed convoluted questions, but this response was the most incomprehensible Jason had ever heard. Still, he knew better than to probe further.

No matter how close he was to Clayton, he was still just a servant.

Besides, Clayton's demeanor was far from ordinary tonight. Since stepping out of the carriage, he exuded a sharp, prickly aura that felt like it could pierce bare skin.

Jason looked up at him with concern. Clayton's eyes seemed emptier than usual tonight.

Feeling uneasy, Jason handed over the key without further comment.

* * *

Clayton took the key and ascended the stairs to Dalia's bedroom.

As if the words about her waiting for him were true, she had fallen asleep not on the bed but on the sofa.

Standing over her, Clayton let out a long sigh. He bent down to lift the fallen blanket to cover her, but then...

"...."

His gaze landed on her neck. A familiar necklace gleamed prominently against the white chemise she wore.

Thud.

The blanket slipped from Clayton's hand and fell to the floor. He made no move to pick it up, his trembling hand instead reaching for the necklace.

His large hand closed around the pendant, gripping it tightly.

For a fleeting moment, he wanted to burn the necklace, erase it from existence. But he knew he couldn't.

Lowering his gaze, Clayton's eyes slowly shifted downward to Dalia's still-flat stomach.

Kneeling slowly, he placed his hand gently on her abdomen.

Her body was so small it was hard to believe it could harbor a child.

Whose child could it be?

The Crown Prince's? Lloyd's? Or someone else entirely?

The very thought made him feel wretched. Clenching his teeth, he swallowed the unspoken questions that burned within him.

At that moment, Dalia stirred, her eyelids fluttering open at the touch. She blinked a few times before speaking in a groggy voice.

"You're back, Your Grace?"

Still half-asleep, she glanced toward the clock.

"You're much later than I expected. I thought you'd be back sooner."

She knew he disliked social events and assumed he wouldn't linger long at a post-wedding gathering.

"The conversation dragged on," Clayton replied, suppressing his emotions.

"You must be tired. You should rest."

"I have something for you."

"For me?"

Dalia, puzzled, tilted her head. What could be so important that he came to give it to her immediately upon returning?

Clayton's expression was as rigid as ever, which made her feel uneasy.

"Here."

Her eyes widened slightly when she saw what he handed her—a key, old and worn.

"It's the key to our family's vault. You may have heard Jason mention it when you first came here—the basement contains an old vault."

"...The vault key?"

Dalia furrowed her brow slightly as she tried to recall. She didn't remember Jason mentioning the vault, but she did recall reading about it in the original story.

The basement vault.

It was an invaluable space where the Seayer family's centuries-old heirlooms and documents were kept.

But why?

In the original story, the key had only been given to the heroine after she had given birth and reconciled fully with the Duke, near the conclusion of the plot.

Chronologically, it was almost ten years into their marriage before the heroine was entrusted with the key. The moment had been a symbolic gesture of trust, leaving Dalia deeply moved as she read it.

Now, holding the key in her hand, she couldn't tell if this was real or if she was trapped in some dream of her own making.

No, she was already fully awake. Dalia, her voice trembling slightly, asked him cautiously.

"...You're really entrusting this to me?"

"Yes. You are the Duchess of the Seayer family."

Clayton gave her a faint smile.

At his words, all her doubts vanished as if they'd never existed. Dalia sprang to her feet and threw her arms around him.

"Thank you. Thank you so much, Your Grace... Thank you for trusting me. Truly, thank you."

She finally felt recognized by Clayton. At last, she had earned his trust.

Clayton embraced Dalia in return as she clung tightly to him. He buried his face in her shoulder.

Her scent, endlessly intoxicating, enveloped him once again, tugging him into a boundless abyss.

Clayton spoke softly, his voice steady yet layered with complexity.

"Yes, Dalia."

I trust you.

In the shadows, his unreadable eyes glinted with an unsettling light.