Don’t Remember Me
CH 2.17
her bed.
“Uhh…”
She must have been asleep from exhaustion, but when she tried to put her on the bed, the child whimpered slightly.
Rosé stayed still for a moment so Flitta wouldn’t wake up, then she gently laid the child down.
‘… Flitta.’
Rosé’s eyes looking down at her child were affectionate.
She stroked Flitta’s head.
Her heart skipped a beat at the soft feel of her hair running between her fingers.
Rosé smiled bitterly, then slowly removed her hand from her child.
Then, as she was about to get her body up and go out of her bedroom, she involuntarily opened her eyes wide.
“…!”
She doesn’t know since when he had been there, Haven was standing next to the open door and looking at her.
“… Yo, Your Highness the Grand Duke.”
Rosé stared at him stunned, then came to her senses belatedly and hurriedly lowered her head.
Haven was greeted by her and stepped into Flitta’s bedroom.
“Looks like she fell asleep.”
Haven immediately approached the bed where Flitta was sleeping.
Then he looked down at his child and spoke in a low voice.
Rosé cautiously raised her head and looked at him.
The man’s gaze, looking down at his sleeping child, seemed insensitive.
However, she could see that his concern and affection for Flitta were hidden in his gaze.
‘Even before when the child was born, I promised him several times that he would be a really good father.’
Rosé smiled faintly at the memory that suddenly came to her mind.
She vividly recalled the joy of holding a newborn baby in her arms, who had been in pain throughout the labor pain.
… I am longing for you.
She was also sad.
They were so close from each other.
The distance between them right now were only a few steps forward.
Rosé’s lips, which had been smiling faintly, twisted before she knew it.
At the same time, Haven turned his body towards her.
She hurriedly covered her mouth with her hand and bowed her head.
She didn’t want to show him her expression like this.
Of course, he wouldn’t notice anything because he had no memory of her.
“Treatment.”
She heard his low voice.
Rosé answered right away with her head bowed without even having time to clear up her complex thoughts.
“A little while ago, the therapist visited here.
Fortunately, the wound on her knee wasn’t too bad, so there won’t be any scarring…”
“Have you been treated?”
Before Rosé finished answering, Haven asked another question.
But this time she didn’t answer the question right away.
“… Yes?”
She thought she misheard it.
She raised her head and looked at him with suspicious eyes.
Haven’s blue eyes slowly scanned Rosé’s face.
“Looks like you’ve been cured.”
Even in the dimly lit room, traces of ointment applied to the cheeks were recognizable.
Haven nodded his head, not wanting to wait for her answer, then turned around.
“I…”
At that moment, Rosé called him and stopped him.
Haven looked back at her as he was about to leave her room.
However, when the woman who actually called him met his eyes, she was startled and lowered her gaze.
She couldn’t understand why she had called him, and her embarrassment was evident.
“…”
Haven did not point out the rudeness of the maid.
He also didn’t even turn around and walk out of the room.
He didn’t do anything momentarily and only stared at her for a while.
Long time passed with that still.
Rosé, who was only looking down at her toes, heard footsteps in her ears.
It was the sound of footsteps moving away from her, not approaching her.
Haa.
“Ha…”
The door was closed.
Only then did Rosé sat down on the floor.
She couldn’t even move one of her fingers.
***
As if the sky had no pity for the king who died at a young age, the rain continued to pour down from early morning.
Haven stared blankly at the rainwater that soaked the tombstone which seemed not enough.
…The rainwater was somehow like his brother’s tears.
Pleading for an unfair death.
He slowly raised his gaze and looked across.
He could see the former queen standing under the umbrella covered by the lady-in-waiting.
Haven’s mouth twisted at the sight of her holding her handkerchief in one hand, blotting out her tears.
A cold anger welled up in his chest.
False mourning was no different from insulting the dead.
His blue eyes twinkled.
Haven’s hand, which was holding the umbrella, was also strained.
Through the raindrops falling restlessly through the tip of the umbrella, not only the former queen but also other people came in.
They were people who faked their tears, wiping nothing from underneath their eyes.
No one felt sorry for the dead king.
They did not grieve in front of his tragedy, who died absurdly at such a young age.
‘If this is the case, why are we having a memorial service?’
The handle of the umbrella creaked as Haven’s hand tightened.
But he soon swallowed a laugh and forcibly removed the strength from his hand.
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