The Reason Why the Forsaken Fake Returned Chapter 118

The farther they went into the north, the wider the wilderness stretched. Watching the desolate plains and the occasional rocky hill slide past, Shailoh was reminded of the Kildare Barony. The baroness had once told her that although in winter it was nothing but empty wasteland, when spring came, new shoots of every kind of plant would sprout and beautiful flowers would bloom.

 

“Brother.”

 

Kildare Barony and the northern Yesiol Duchy were not far from each other. She turned her head, about to ask if all sorts of lovely flowers bloomed here as well, only to find Declen, arms folded, nodding off. Faced with that unguarded sight, Shailoh blinked a few times.

 

“Brother?”

 

She had only recently learned who he was, and that he even existed at all. But in that short time, she had already seen that he was a man who left nothing to chance, meticulous to a fault. It was thanks to that very nature that she had been able to escape from Caleb’s villa.

 

After receiving Anne’s letter, Declen had won over one of the villa’s errand runners and had them slip Shailoh a certain drug. Perhaps as a precaution, he hadn’t sent a proper letter, only a small scrap of paper with brief instructions on how to take it. She had no way of knowing what the medicine was, but she chose to trust him. Before long, heat flooded her body, and a cough tore out of her again and again, as if she had come down with a bad bout of the flu. She was bedridden in an instant.

 

“Sasha?”

 

“Ca…leb.”

 

“Call the doctor now! Right now!”

 

The moment Caleb saw how grave her condition was, he summoned a doctor at once. Only when Shailoh was left alone with the man did she grasp Declen’s true intent.

 

“The duke sent me.”

 

“The… duke?”

 

“Yes. The drug’s effect will wear off soon. We don’t have much time. Change into these clothes, quickly.”

 

The man who was said to be the only doctor in the area was also someone Declen had recruited in advance. Shailoh disguised herself as the nurse he had brought with him, switched places with the woman, and slipped out of the villa. The nurse who took her place, of course, was someone who specialized in this sort of work, and she reportedly escaped from the villa in no time.

 

After Shailoh got out safely, she soon met Declen, who had been waiting for her. He had personally taken action to rescue his half-sister.

 

“No wonder you’re worn out,” Shailoh murmured. She lifted the robe that was sliding off her brother’s shoulders and drew it up over him, tucking it around him like a blanket. Then she whispered softly, “Get some real rest. At least until we get there.”

 

Instead of answering, Declen only mumbled a low “Mmm” and turned his head to the other side.

 

* * *

It was only after they had ridden hard for three days and nights beyond the last checkpoint that they finally reached the heart of the north, the lands ruled directly by Duke Yesiol. A grand city ringed by white ramparts seized Shailoh’s gaze. Perched atop a sheer stone crag stood the ducal stronghold of Yesiol, looking down over the northern territories. The spires speared up toward the sky, and from one of the towers flew a banner emblazoned with a black eagle, the crest of Duke Yesiol. The sheer majesty and dignity of it hit her like a blow to the chest.

 

“It’s like its own kingdom. Like a small city-state.” Shailoh breathed, unable to hold back her honest awe. Heart pounding with excitement, she turned to Declen.

 

“It actually used to be its own nation. A duchy with quite a long history, until it was absorbed into this kingdom.”

 

“I heard the ancestor of Duke Yesiol was one of the Three Dukes of Oath who played a huge part in founding this kingdom.”

 

“The records say they were truly moved by the first king and chose to fight at his side.”

 

“Ah…”

 

“While the capital and the rest of the realm have been changing, the north has clung to its traditions, its customs, its discipline. That’s what suits us, and that’s what we want.” Speaking in a low voice, Declen finished his explanation and cracked the carriage window for some fresh air. When the cold, dry wind made Shailoh shiver, he reached to close it again.

 

“No, leave it open, please.”

 

“You’re not cold?”

 

“It’s a little cold, but I like this air. When I think about it, I think I’ve liked the northern wind from the very beginning.”

 

Ever since she had escaped the Diponz ducal family, this land had taken her in. It had healed the wounds of a girl who had been hurt and alone. Shailoh loved this land that lay curled up in the frozen earth all winter long, only to rise when the snows melted, and spring crept in, stretching itself and bursting into blossoms of life. It was as if the land itself were telling her that no matter how hopeless things seemed, as long as there was hope, happiness would surely follow.

 

While Shailoh, cheeks flushed, drank in the vast, chest-opening sweep of the plains, the coachman gradually eased the horses’ pace and called back to them.

 

“Your Grace, we’re almost there.”

 

Expectation, fear, and a fluttering thrill all tangled together. Shailoh pressed a hand over her pounding heart on the left side of her chest and turned to Declen. He laid his own hand over her free one, gently steadying his sister.

 

“There’s nothing to worry about, Shailoh. You’ll be welcomed here.”

 

“Do you… really think so?” Her voice wavered with uncertainty as she bit down on her lower lip.

 

Declen gave a lopsided grin and nodded. “See for yourself.”

 

“Huh?” Puzzled by what he meant, she tilted her head.

 

The moment the massive gates in the white wall swung open, a roar crashed over them.

 

“Waaaah!”

 

“The duke has returned!”

 

“We’ve been waiting for you!”

 

The shout was so loud her ears rang. She blinked, dazed, and then the voices of the townsfolk pierced straight through to her eardrums.

 

“Welcome, Lady!”

 

“Welcome! Welcome home!”

 

“We’ve been waiting! Welcome home, Lady!”

 

Red poinsettia petals, cyclamen petals, and yellow daffodil petals rained down in a riot of color along the path of the carriage. The flowers arced over the heads of the guards standing in a line to clear the way, thrown by the people beyond.

 

“This… All of this…” Eyes gone wide, Shailoh clapped a hand over her mouth at the unbelievable sight. Her throat tightened as if someone had stuffed it with cotton, and her eyes burned hot.

 

While she floundered in the wave of emotion crashing over her, Declen quietly explained. “They all came out to welcome you. A lady hasn’t been born to Duke Yesiol for three generations.”

 

“So that means…”

 

“It means you’re the first ducal lady in a hundred years.”

 

“Even though… I’m an illegitimate child?”

 

It was the first time in her life she had ever received such a grand welcome. Even when she had lived as Sasha Griche, she had never once been greeted with such heartfelt joy and love. After asking the question in a shaking voice, Shailoh waited for Declen’s answer.

 

“Illegitimate or legitimate doesn’t matter. As long as you carry northern blood, we’re all family.”

 

“Fa…mily…”

 

“No. Once I’ve acknowledged you as my sister, even if you didn’t share a drop of blood with me, you’d still be the ducal lady of this house.”

 

Even when she had been the ducal lady of Diponz, there had been a maid who quietly slighted and ignored her because she didn’t share blood with the duke’s family. But here, none of that mattered in the slightest. More than anything, the word ‘family’ sent a rush of feeling surging out from deep in her chest, leaving her trembling.

 

“Shailoh.” Startled by the tears suddenly spilling down her cheeks, Declen reached out and brushed them away with his fingers.

 

“I’m sorry… I just never even dreamed… to be welcomed like this.”

 

“It’s alright.” His surprise lasted only a moment. Then, as if he understood exactly how she felt, Declen’s lips curved up, and he awkwardly patted his sister’s shoulder. “This is nothing. From now on, you’ll start receiving, one by one, all the things you were denied as a ducal lady. And you’ll be loved by a great many family members.”

 

“Yes… Brother.” Wiping away the endless stream of tears, Shailoh leaned her head against Declen’s shoulder.

 

Like a victorious general returning in triumph, their carriage rolled through the cheering crowd, passed under the inner gate, and crossed the drawbridge that led straight to the ducal castle. When the enormous stronghold finally came fully into view, Shailoh could only stare, dumbstruck, murmuring her admiration over and over.

 

The carriage glided to a smooth halt before the castle. Declen stepped down first, then turned and held out his hand to her. Shailoh took her brother’s hand and descended from the carriage. At the head of a long line of maids and servants stood an elderly man with a splendid white mustache, waiting to greet the returning master and his sister.

 

“Welcome home, Your Grace!”

 

“Nothing of note happened while I was away, I trust?”

 

“Nothing at all. It’s been peaceful.” Beaming, the old man flicked a glance toward Shailoh.

 

Declen introduced him first. “Shailoh, this is Rohan Gordon, the butler of this castle.”

 

“Ah…” Gordon was the surname she’d heard mentioned back at the checkpoint. Recognizing the name, Shailoh brightened and held out her hand for a shake. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I—”

 

“It is an honor beyond words to make your acquaintance, Milady.”

 

Instead of taking her hand in a firm shake, Rohan lightly supported it, touching only his fingertips to hers, then bowed his head and pressed his forehead to the back of her hand. The greeting was so formal it bordered on reverence.

 

Shailoh shot Declen a sidelong look, and he only lifted a shoulder in a shrug before giving an order. “You may raise your head.”

 

Only after receiving permission did the butler lift his face. His eyes, shining with unshed tears, searched Shailoh’s features.

 

“You have… the late duke’s eyes, Milady.”