“Yes,” her father continued. “The family recently transitioned to a new head. The current duke, Asher, is only twenty-three. Though unmarried, he has a son, a boy of about four months.”
“A four-month-old son…?”
Tears welled up in Fiona’s eyes before she could stop them. It was a reminder of what she had yearned for most—and what she would never have. Her mother gently embraced her as Fiona sniffled quietly.
“That boy was left at the duke’s doorstep one day, along with a letter,” her father explained. “Since then, the household has struggled with a shortage of staff. The duke is seeking new servants, particularly a woman capable of becoming the boy’s tutor in the future. The previous duke himself approached me directly about it.”
“I see…”
Hearing such detailed circumstances made Fiona realize the truth of her father’s connections to the Jorvia family. It was even possible they had shared the story of Fiona’s recent tragedy. Slowly, Fiona lifted her face.
“Of course, you’re free to decline,” her father said. “What matters most is how you feel. But we thought this might help you find some peace…”
“Thank you, Father,” Fiona murmured, tears slipping down her cheeks.
She had thought no one could ever understand her feelings. She hadn’t even wanted them to. Comfort felt meaningless, and being left alone was equally unbearable. She had believed there was no solution.
But Fiona knew deep down that she couldn’t continue this way forever. At some point, she would have to move forward.
“I’d like to try,” she said quietly. “I don’t know if I’m suited for it, but even so…”
Her parents smiled softly and embraced her, their tears falling alongside hers.
* * *
A few days later, Fiona arrived at the Jorvia Duke’s estate.
(What a magnificent residence…)
The house was grander than her family’s viscount estate or even the home she had shared with her former husband. Its dignified beauty and solemn atmosphere made Fiona instinctively straighten her posture. She swallowed nervously.
“Welcome. We’ve been expecting you,” said the head servant, who escorted Fiona into the mansion.
After a brief tour of the premises, Fiona was taken to meet the duke’s son.
“This is Master Asher’s eldest son, Master Daniel.”
“Oh my…!”
In the crib lay an incredibly adorable baby.
He had fine, pale blond hair, round, sparkling blue eyes like precious gems, and rosy cheeks on his snow-white skin. His chubby arms and legs flailed energetically as he gazed at Fiona. He was the very picture of an angel.
“What a darling child…!”
The unbearable ache in her chest softened, replaced by a gentle warmth. As Fiona leaned closer, Daniel reached out with his tiny hands and lightly patted her cheeks.
“Ah… ba-ba-ba…”
“Oh…”
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