“Yes. I told him, ‘You are still alive, aren’t you? As long as you live, it is never too late. If you regret your actions, then call upon those you wronged and apologize to them, one by one.’”
“What… You actually said that to him?”
“Yes. And so, Marquis Brandt summoned those he had wronged, day after day, and apologized to them. It took two years before he finally felt he had atoned. After that, he began apologizing to me instead. But I told him, ‘I am tired of hearing apologies. If you truly mean it, then say ‘thank you’ instead.’ From that day forward, every time I did something for him, he said ‘thank you.’”
“Hmph…”
The duke let out a thoughtful hum before speaking again.
“A woman like you… Surely many men would wish to marry you. Instead of staying with an old man like me, you should find a proper husband from a good family. Why would your father send you here?”
If her father had thought that way, he never would have married her off to Count Baritone in the first place.
Besides—
“In high society, I am known as ‘The Widow Who Sends Husbands to Their Graves.’ No young man would willingly marry someone with such an ominous title. The only marriage proposals I receive are from nobles who require a caretaker for their final days. If I am cast out of this household, I will simply be sent to another dying noble. So please, Your Grace, for my sake—live a long life.”
“…”
The duke fell silent, watching her.
He must have thought her a pitiful woman.
But Cornelia truly wished for him to live.
Because unlike her past experiences, both the duke and Iris had been kind to her.
Iris had been pleased to see that his father’s demeanor had softened.
Though the duke’s illness remained, he no longer seemed entirely devoid of will to live.
Iris had begun to reminisce about Amanda with Cornelia, even smiling when he spoke of his mother.
At times, he would insist she take a break, taking her by carriage to visit the church or attend the theater.
Whenever he traveled to the royal capital for work, he always returned with thoughtful gifts.
For the first time in a long while, Cornelia thought—If only this peace could last forever.
But the world had never once granted Cornelia’s wishes.
Within a year, the duke’s condition deteriorated.
As the end neared, he spoke to her daily.
“Cornelia, I have prepared one final gift for you. You may accept it after I am gone… but if you do not wish to, you are free to refuse. Still, if possible, I hope you will take it.”
Cornelia knew then—this was the end.
Both of her previous husbands had said similar things before they passed.
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