MPBAGS Chapter 79

Ryder was in a deeply dejected state as he returned to his room at the Marchioness's urging.

"Was I in the way?"

"Not at all. You were very dignified."

Lark shook his head at the child's question.

The sight of him trying to fulfill his duties as master by greeting the guest despite his ailing body was remarkably admirable for his age. Even though he looked ready to collapse at any moment, wasn't he walking back to his room on his own without any support?

"How did it look to you, Butler? Did I seem befitting of the Young Marquis Totten?"

"Yes. Very much so. If the late Marquis had seen you, he would have been extremely pleased."

Only after Lark praised him by mentioning the deceased Marquis did Ryder seem satisfied and relaxed his body. As his body swayed for a moment, Lark hurriedly reached out his hand, but the child steadied himself by leaning against the wall.

"Sorry, let me rest for a moment..."

Lark was amazed by the child's mental fortitude. His body was so frail it seemed ready to die, yet he never showed any sign of it.

If only he hadn't been cursed with that body, he would have been perfectly suited to be the head of the Totten family. If the child had been born healthy, surely Lark wouldn't have had to scheme behind the scenes like this.

"Please don't overexert yourself and lean on me. There's no one watching, is there?"

Ryder was the type who cared about the eyes of not only fellow nobles but also the servants working in the mansion. He wanted to appear like a Young Marquis rather than a sickly young master in front of them.

As the butler said, the people of the mansion were currently preoccupied with entertaining a guest they hadn't seen in a long time. Thanks to that, there was no one upstairs.

Persuaded, Ryder nestled into the butler's arms. Lark was surprised by how light the child felt in his arms but tried not to show it as he headed toward the room.

The pace was much faster since there was no need to accommodate a young child's slow steps.

Ryder, who had been covering his mouth and coughing while leaning against the butler's chest, spoke up to break the silence. He had learned that it was the role of a superior to provide appropriate conversation topics to subordinates.

"About Lady Rohanson... are all noble ladies like that?"

And the topic that came to mind most readily was the person he had just met. Lady Rohanson was truly strange. From every strand of her hair to every eyelash, she was crafted with such excessive precision that it gave the observer chills.

That delicacy was comparable to the transparent glass craft ornament depicting an angel in Ryder's room. The person who had seemed like hardened glass had gracefully greeted Ryder.

"Should I become like that too?"

Her posture was perfect, as if she moved with conscious calculation down to the angle of her fingertips. Ryder was deeply impressed by her perfect execution of the greeting described in etiquette books.

"...Well..."

Lark trailed off.

Though Lark had devoted his life to the Marquis family and met many nobles, Evangeline was the first of her kind. Because Lark had met various nobles, he could tell at a glance that Evangeline wasn't normal, but Ryder was different. This was because he had never met and formed relationships with other young noble children.

Usually, children from noble families interact with their peers from childhood, but Ryder couldn't do that.

He might not remember it himself, but when Ryder was even younger than now, the Marchioness had once invited the children of a Countess she frequently socialized with. It was a natural flow to create peer friendships for him.

However, a problem arose. The Count's children made remarks to Ryder about "the curse being contagious."

It was clear who those ignorant children had heard such words from. The Marchioness scolded the children harshly and cut ties with the Countess.

What the Countess said then was quite a spectacle. Though she spewed various unspeakable insults in her excitement, the gist was this: how dare they get angry in return when she had sent her own children to play with a child abandoned and cursed by God, yet they ignored that gesture of goodwill.

After that incident, guests visiting the Marquis estate became extremely rare. When Ryder's health deteriorated, they stopped receiving visitors altogether, making Evangeline Rohanson a guest after a whole three years.

"There's no need to become like that."

After all, he won't live long enough to reach Evangeline's age anyway. Lark swallowed his unfinished thought.

At the same time, he felt a bit fearful. There had been rumors that Evangeline Rohanson had also received a curse that holy water couldn't cure due to her originally weak constitution. But now wasn't she walking around perfectly fine?

What if Ryder overcame his inherent weakness someday and became like Evangeline? It was a very unpleasant thought.

The cursed child, unaware of Lark's thoughts, continued chattering.

"I thought Lady Rohanson was an angel who had come to take me away after I died."

Lark clicked his tongue inwardly. Evangeline Rohanson was not worthy of comparison to such holy beings, and it was the Marchioness's fault for planting such bad delusions in Ryder.

An angel? How could someone cursed be embraced by God? Though it was pitiful because he was such a young child, Ryder would not find peace even in death.

"Did you think so too, butler?"

"I was frightened."

"Frightened?"

"Yes. I never want to face her again."

Lark felt fear beyond displeasure, perhaps due to the slim possibility that Ryder might grow up to be like that.

"You must really respect Lady Totten, don't you? You were so concerned about affecting Lady Totten that you told me, someone you met for the first time today, all about the Marquis family's circumstances."

When she mocked Lark for making a fool of Lady Totten, his heart sank. Having penetrated and seen through Lark's dirty mind, fear naturally washed over him.

Had she sensed something suspicious from Lark's few words? Or had she already investigated? Had Lady Totten noticed Lark's machinations and asked her to test his intentions?

Countless thoughts swirled chaotically in his mind.

Wondering if Lady Totten had really noticed, he deliberately told the resting Ryder that a guest had come and arranged for the three to meet. Lady Totten still seemed unaware of the truth, but soon she would hear the facts from Evangeline Rohanson.

However, as long as the child existed, Lady Totten couldn't act rashly. Lark looked down at the weakness in his arms; watching the shallow rise and fall of his chest with each labored breath.

"Anyone watching would think you're the master of the Marquis estate."

He had never dared to think such thoughts. Lark was merely displeased that evidence of God's abandonment had appeared in the Marquis family he had loved.

The intelligent Marchioness who loved her territory's people had been squandering the family fortune by bringing money to the temple for her cursed son, and had been living secluded in the capital for four years now, abandoning her territory.

Lark thought that Lord Laufos, the late Marquis's younger brother, should inherit the family rather than a child who would die soon. That would be much more beneficial for the Marquis family.

The answer was clear just by comparing the Marquis family's status from ten years ago when the Marquis was healthy to now.

While sharing impressions about Evangeline Rohanson, they had already arrived at the room. Lark was about to help the child to bed and leave when his sleeve was grabbed.

"Butler. I want to hear a lullaby."

He was referring to the lullaby the Marchioness always sang before he went to sleep.

Usually, he would never act spoiled toward the butler, but today he seemed particularly tired.

"I can't sing as well as Madam, but if that's alright, I'll sing for you."

Lark stroked the child's head and sang a terrible lullaby. The wrinkled old hand seemed to want to absorb all of the child's vitality as it stroked Ryder's head.

"...Are you asleep?"

The child had quickly fallen asleep. Lark brought his hand to the child's nose and pulled it back when the hot breath touched it.

The old hand moved from the child's soft nose tip toward his slender neck, caressing the sleeping child's throat. The cowardly old man, instead of using his hands directly, wished for God to quickly take the child's life.

"Please die soon."

Lark prayed his wish to the merciful God. Then he held his breath and left the room so as not to wake the child.

The hinges twisted as the door closed. In the silence, the breath that had been exhaled regularly to the rhythm of the clock's second hand became wet and disturbed.

The child knew very well that his mother was the only one in the world who loved him.