I Possessed As A Childcare Extra Chapter 13

“Will you satisfy your mother?”

Only in that moment did she become a mother.

“No one wants you. No one.”

All a six-year-old child could do was run.

“Huff… haah….”

Whenever word came that the duke’s return would be delayed, he ran for his life. To the cleaning closet on the first floor of the rear wing. If he hid in the sealed dark, the duchess would not find him.

“Hngh… hhic….”

There, he learned how to hold back his sobs.

The night felt as though it would never end.

“Let go! I said let go!”

Narkis looked down from the second-floor terrace as the former duchess was dragged out.

The marriage vows between the duke and the former duchess were annulled after four years.

Rumor had it that although the duke had wanted a divorce as soon as the second son was born, it took time to ensure the marquis’ faction would not be able to oppose it.

“Aeon, Aeon! This is a misunderstanding!”

Not once did the former duchess call her son by his name.

“I can explain everything! Please, listen to me! Are you really going to believe the words of that snake-like child?!”

Narkis had never reported anything to the duke. Not to the duke—nor to anyone else.

“H–hahaha.”

Her mouth stretched open in a strange shape. Her shoulders shook as she spat breath after breath—

“It was all bullshit!”

She screamed through the blizzard that whipped around her.

“You said you never loved that woman? That you loved no one? That you only needed an heir?!”

Her voice cracked with exhaustion, her once-prized long hair a tangled mess, as she poured every last drop of strength into her rant.

“Don’t make me laugh!”

She shrieked.

“The truth is you missed her, didn’t you?! You couldn’t give up that woman’s blood!”

Only then did Narkis understand whom she meant: the birth mother who had returned to her homeland the moment he was born.

The duke had married first for an heir, and the next time also for an heir—and had divorced when his duty was fulfilled. Everyone knew he had loved no one.

Everyone except the former duchess.

“I committed no sin! You’re the one who did! For four years you locked me away in that damned dreary suffocating prison!”

Only then did Narkis realize that this place had been a prison for her too.

“You were all I had! You can’t—you can’t abandon meee…!”

Narkis could not hear the duke’s answer from where he stood at the central gate.

“Aeon Triceeeeeen!”

After a long nightmare, her curse-filled scream tore through the air.

“Narkis.”

The duke, having found his heir, stared at him in silence for a long time.

Narkis still could not say anything.

“Will you go to Ritsa?”

The duke left those words and departed for the southern front.

The following year, Narkis left for Ritsa and met the birth mother he had no memory of.

The former former duchess. The second daughter of the king of Ritsa.

Princess Eofe, with blue hair and yellow eyes, was exotic, pearl-like, mysterious—and had the same face that the former duchess had once called “beautiful.”

“Your eyes.”

Princess Eofe lowered her gaze to her son.

“They’re just like your father’s.”

If only you didn’t exist.

Who had said that?

“…Young master?”

A maid found him, still haunted by memories from nine years ago.

“Young master, why are you here?”

A maid who used to run from him with all her might.

Moonmist Castle, after five years away since he’d left at age seven, had changed greatly.

“Hewwo, Narkis oppa! I’m Edel, your little sister. I’m sooo happy you came home!”

The youngest, who inherited nothing of the duke.

“Why didn’t you stay where you could play as a prince? Why come back? Ugh, unlucky bastard.”

The second son, who’d been made to believe it was Narkis’s fault their mother was expelled.

And—

“I’m sorry.”

The maid who avoided him.

He had no memory of her from before he left the castle. Meaning she had either never crossed paths with him—or had never done anything noticeable.

Going unnoticed was a virtue for servants.

But avoiding him openly grated on him.

Whenever she spotted him from afar, she would immediately change direction; and if she couldn’t, she would shrink herself into a corner, head bowed.

Different from other servants. Not a gesture of deference, nor a sign of reverence toward the ruling family.

It was the reaction of someone facing something she should never encounter.

“Sigh.”

The maid carrying a laundry basket beyond the hedge was a familiar sight.

Her gentle features didn’t match the blunt expression she wore.

The maid who irritated him.

“You there.”

“Yes?”

She had no choice but to stop when he called to her.

“Work must be tiring. You walked right past the young master you serve.”

Excuses flowed from her like a river.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t see…”

“I see. You didn’t see.”

If she had seen him, she would’ve run. As always.

“You can see just fine now, yes?”

Even when her laundry spilled everywhere, she didn’t blink.

She didn’t kneel or beg.

As though she’d always expected something like this to happen someday—whenever she ran into him.

“I’m sorry.”

After that, the maid hid even more thoroughly.

If only you didn’t exist.

His stomach twisted.

If only you didn’t exist.

He wanted to chase her, frighten her, make her apologize, or scream at her to look at him properly.

If only you didn’t exist.

But he had no time to waste on a mere maid.

Moonmist Castle’s bedrooms still reminded him of that era.

If he asked to change rooms, he knew exactly what the duke would think.

The beloved youngest.

The second son who hated him.

The duke who had never wanted him.

He did not want any of them to know.

During his escape to the academy, he forgot about that maid.

Maid Annie.

He thought he had forgotten, and yet—he knew her name.

The bold maid who’d once made the youngest cry—he had wondered who she was.

You again.

She hadn’t changed at all.

She probably thought she was hiding properly, but every summer he found her.

Look at me.

Always shrinking her body, refusing to see anything about him.

Look at the one you serve.

The impulse he had always suppressed burst in a single moment.

“You shouldn’t have been caught, Annie.”

When he saw her wide, brown, startled eyes.

The emotion stabbing his heart was unmistakably pleasure.

Why?

Large, dark pupils.

Drooped corners of her eyes.

Her mouth opened in a round gasp.

…A fish.

Seeing her blinking eyes reminded him of the white damselfish he had seen in the ponds of Ritsa.

Was it the same feeling as hauling a fish out of the water?

He pondered the thought—and grew irritated. A completely useless question.

 

 

 

*****

 

 

 

“Edel. What does ‘Joo eun’ mean?”

“Pffft…!”

It was my first tea time with the youngest in a while. She spat out the juice she was drinking and hurriedly covered her mouth.

“Mmmph, s-sorry…”

“It’s fine. I must’ve surprised you.”

I wiped the youngest’s mouth and hands with a handkerchief, but I didn’t plan on letting the topic go.

“I happened to hear you calling that maid ‘Joo-eun.’”

Of course, it wasn’t really by chance.

“Well, um…”

I didn’t look away until she opened her mouth.

“It’s… Annie’s… name.”

“Her name?”

“I mean… we do this kind of role-play…”

Role-play.

“She and I… make up a world together…”

She said they create an imaginary world—different culture, different race—and imagine themselves living there. A very youngest-like game.

“In that world, you call Annie ‘Joo-eun.’”

“Yeah…”

“What about you?”

There must’ve been a special name for the youngest too, but the maid only ever called her ‘My Lady.’

Edel hesitated and muttered.

“I—I don’t really wike that world…”

She was trying hard to steer the talk away, so I let it slide.

After all, there was someone else who couldn’t avoid answering if asked.

“It’s… maybe kind of like how the Young Master… finds the Lord and the second Young Master hard to deal with…”

It was a reply far beyond what I expected.

“Y-you told me… to say anything… you asked…”

Was this maid afraid of me? Or—

“…I’m sorry.”

—was she making fun of me?

“Have a cup of tea before you go.”

I said something a servant shouldn’t say.

“Summer days are long, you know.”

I could’ve just sent her away without making this into a whole thing.

“The carpet’s wet, too.”

But I let myself be led by impulse again.

“What should we do about this.”

And then I watched the maid run away.

She could’ve just stepped aside and refused to move if she wanted.

‘Rebelling?’

The maid who only ever cowered had changed. If she didn’t move, she was saying she’d stand her ground.

So Narkis let her run.

Like the white fish in Lake Ritsa—if you splash the water in its path, it kicks hard and swims the other way.

Even if you run, you won’t escape the lake… or so he thought.

“Is someone there?”

The one who couldn’t escape was himself.

“…Young Master?”

The last person he wanted to see him trapped in a small darkness like when he was young—

“You… ugh, why are you…”

—it wasn’t the youngest or the second brother, nor the Grand Duke.

“Why are you here, Young Master?”

It was this maid.

Narkis realized it far too late.

 

 

*****

 

 

“Ah!”

The moonlit corridor made it hard to see ahead.

“Ow!”

Still, it wasn’t a corridor where one should be bumping shoulders and stubbing toes nonstop. The wall torches were lit.

“S-sorry…”

Each time, she covered her mouth and apologized, as if she believed she mustn’t make a sound.

She had no idea how far his sense of presence-reading extended.

‘Is she night-blind?’

Maybe she’s a picky eater too. I heard she likes tropical fruits from the southern continent.

He had to pull her hand to keep her from bumping into things.

The last person whose hand he held was the youngest.

Her hand was nothing like a child’s small hand. She was fully grown, yet her hand was slender and delicate.

The warmth that had rushed into him when he first held her hand now cycled between them, settling at a comfortable temperature.

‘…Warm.’

The bedroom looked exactly as it had when they left.

The rumpled blanket. The fireplace he disliked. The gloomy air.

But somehow, it all looked different from before.