To My First Love, With Regret (Libenia) Chapter 13

His grandfather seemed to know the answer.

But he chose not to say it.

“Ethan,” he said quietly, “you grew into a good man. An honest one.”

As a child, Ethan had been reckless like any other boy.

But unlike Harry, the elder guiding his household had been strict, so Ethan learned early how to restrain himself.

Part of that restraint came from his desperate refusal to hear people whisper:

Like father, like son.

The grandfather who had always taken pride in him—why was he suddenly giving advice like this now?

“Still,” the old man continued, “perhaps life would be easier if you behaved like the vulgar thug Baron Langdon expects you to be.”

“You mean I should act like Jack Fairchild’s son?”

Ethan only ever called that criminal father when his own dignity wasn’t involved.

The man who had rotted away doing day labor at the docks eventually discovered the talent he’d searched for all his life—in the criminal underworld.

He’d trampled over every civic duty without hesitation.

Yet strangely enough, he had still clung desperately to his duty as head of a family.

He continued sending money home.

But Ethan’s mother either returned it—or, when returning it became impossible, donated every last penny away.

“If you live on money soaked in other people’s blood and tears, then you become accomplices too.”

Why had Mother ever fallen in love with a man like Father?

She had been the sort of person who would rather die than live dishonorably.

And those weren’t empty words.

Even while dying from illness, she refused to touch a single penny of her husband’s dirty money.

“My treasures… forgive me for failing to protect you until the very end…”

Still, at least she could rest proudly in heaven knowing she had remained true to her principles.

And her children had to honor those principles in return.

That was the respect owed to the mother who gave them life.

So it wasn’t their father who abandoned Ethan and Becky.

It was the children who abandoned him.

In any case, Ethan had possessed a far worthier role model.

His maternal grandfather:

Jeremiah Robinson.

The last lighthouse keeper of the Robinson line, a family that had protected this lighthouse generation after generation for centuries.

Since Cliffhaven’s survival depended heavily on fishing and maritime trade, the lighthouse keeper was practically considered the town’s guardian angel.

The locals affectionately called his grandfather Captain Robinson because for decades he had guided them safely through the night sea.

A lighthouse keeper was a government official and wore a uniform.

And the cap he wore every day resembled a captain’s.

Captain.

Once Ethan grew old enough to feel that calling him “Grandfather” sounded childish, he began calling him Captain too.

Ethan, drowning in the storm named Father, had only survived adolescence and made it safely into open waters because of the Captain.

Once, he’d admired his grandfather so deeply that he even dreamed of becoming a lighthouse keeper himself.

He thought the Captain—who cherished the family profession and lamented that their line would end with him—would be pleased.

Instead, the old man had refused immediately.

“You’ll do something else.”

“You know I could handle it.”

“Yes. But soon machines will handle it better than you can.”

Kerosene.

Then gas.

Then electricity.

During the years his grandfather had served here, lighthouse technology had advanced at astonishing speed.

“The profession of lighthouse keeper will disappear soon,” the Captain said calmly. “Isn’t that the kind of world we live in now? A world where technology replaces people? You shouldn’t become someone struggling to catch up with progress. You should become someone who leads it.”

The lighthouse keeper who had silently remained at his post while technology overtook him looked strangely lonely in that moment.

When Ethan muttered, “I don’t want to become like Father,” the Captain gave no response.

The old man sat silently, lost in thought, until the tobacco in his pipe had burned entirely to ash.

Only then did he finally reveal a story he had hidden for years.

“Jack came back about two months after Esther died.”

He had learned too late.

When he arrived, he collapsed before his wife’s grave and wept bitterly.

You should’ve kept that secret forever.

Why tell me this now?

So I’ll pity that criminal?

Seeing Ethan’s cold expression, the Captain continued anyway.

“Jack truly loved Esther. And he loves you and Becky too.”

“Then I hope that makes him suffer even more.”

No matter how gently his grandfather spoke, Ethan made it clear he had no intention of repairing broken ties.

“Ethan,” the old man said quietly, “every person has two sides. A devil to one person can be an angel to another. Just like Baron Langdon is a devil to you and an angel to his father.”

Only then did Ethan finally understand why his grandfather had changed his stance.

The Captain wanted him to use his father’s dirty connections to protect himself from powerful people.

He feared the next thing Harry aimed his madness at would be Ethan himself.

“Jack probably learned too late,” the old man murmured, “that when he let go of the hand he’d been holding in order to climb higher… that hand had actually been his entire life.”

The Captain’s favorite saying—that one shouldn’t stare only at the summit—had gained a strange new meaning tonight.

“If you reach out to him now, your father will never let go of your hand again.”

Pretending not to hear, Ethan deliberately changed the subject.

“I’m not like him. I’ll reach the top while holding onto your hand instead, Captain.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Why?”

“Because where would the lighthouse keeper go?”

The old man smiled faintly.

“My dream is to watch the sea from here until my very last breath.”

His peaceful gaze drifted over the calm night ocean before settling softly on Ethan.

“But if I got to hold my great-grandchild before then…”

A quiet chuckle escaped him.

“I’d die perfectly happy.”

“Becky will probably marry first…”

“Honestly? I don’t think your turn is very far away either.”

“…What?”

“At first, I thought you’d brought a woman back with you. The footsteps on the lighthouse stairs sounded exactly like yours—but the smell of women’s perfume practically filled the whole tower.”

“….”

“And I can still smell it now.”

He already figured out I met a woman.

Please don’t realize who she is.

The Captain patted Ethan’s stiff shoulder with a hand weathered rough by decades of sea wind.

“Ethan,” he said gently, “if you want to become a good father someday, don’t hurt the woman who’ll become the mother of your child.”

Ethan didn’t take those words seriously.

Because if anyone was destined to suffer in this relationship—

Surely it would be him.

The weaker one.

—

As Eve walked through the corridor, she slowed when she noticed light spilling from the balcony.

“I’m confident I’ll soon produce results worthy of His Grace’s expectations…”

A sweet female voice drifted through the wide-open door, speaking in an exaggeratedly syrupy tone while reading a letter aloud.

Eve inhaled deeply and mentally rehearsed her words one final time.

Father. Harry.

Please…

Ned…

“If His Grace would only permit—”

The woman’s honeyed voice tangled with Eve’s thoughts until they became unbearable.

Annoyed, she exhaled sharply and stepped forward.

“Father.”

But the moment she rounded the corner onto the balcony, the speech she’d prepared vanished from her mind entirely.

The young nurse leapt upright in panic—as though caught stealing.

From the lap of the duke.

The man old enough to be her father.

In other words, her father had seated a woman young enough to be his daughter atop his enormous body and was amusing himself with her.

Disgust flashed openly across Eve’s face.

“What exactly are you doing?” she asked coldly.

“My eyes were bothering me today,” the duke replied without shame. “Shantal was reading the letter for me.”

“And she can’t do that unless she’s sitting on your lap?”

Eve’s expression sharpened.

“Perhaps you should consider a hearing aid.”

“You should knock before entering.”

The duke scolded her as though she were the one behaving improperly.

“If you had closed the door, I would have knocked,” Eve snapped back immediately. “Though considering it’s made of glass, I still would’ve seen everything. It almost seemed like you deliberately left it open for an audience. So why are you acting as though I’m the one caught hiding something shameful?”

“You were the one who started getting angry.”

“Because I’m disappointed in your taste.”

Eve didn’t particularly care whether her father kept mistresses.

After all, he wasn’t married.

But why Shantal Garnier of all women?

Not long ago, the duke had hired a new personal physician: Owen Callas.

Until now, every doctor treating the duke’s endless collection of illnesses had possessed decades of experience.

This was the first time he’d employed some fledgling fresh out of residency at Cliffhaven University Hospital.

Only after learning the young doctor was Robert Callas’s son—the family lawyer—had everything started making sense.

That snake-tongued lawyer must’ve manipulated Father into it.

And the nurse who arrived alongside him, Shantal Garnier, radiated suspicion from the very beginning.

From her skills to her intentions.

That woman belonged in a bar, not a hospital.

Even idiots like Father should realize she’s a scam artist trying to seduce money out of a rich old man.

And he still fell for it.

Is his life really so empty that he doesn’t care what he loses anymore?

And what about syphilis? Aren’t either of you worried about that?

She wanted to ask both of them.

According to the police chief, experienced con artists never approached targets directly.

First, they manipulated the people surrounding them.

And that fox had immediately realized Eve was the only sane person in the family.

She’d attempted to approach her first by boasting about being from Lavinia overseas.

“Lady, if you ever need someone to practice Lavinian conversation with, please ask me anytime.”

“And you expect me to learn the language of prostitutes?”

As though Shantal herself even spoke proper cultured Lavinian.

After that exchange, the nurse stopped trying to approach Eve and instead redirected her attention toward the duke.

Even now, Shantal met Eve’s glare without the slightest embarrassment.

Now that she’d secured the duke’s favor, why would she fear his daughter?

“What is it you wanted?” the duke asked impatiently.

“Thank you for asking.”

Eve folded her hands calmly.

“I heard from Becky that Ethan is looking for summer work. I was thinking of hiring him as my driver and bodyguard.”

The heavy folds around the duke’s eyes narrowed slightly.

Perhaps he feared his daughter intended to amuse herself with a servant the same way he did.

But in truth, the situation was exactly the opposite.

I’m hiring him so I can stay near my lover without anyone becoming suspicious.