To My First Love, With Regret - 103

The maid’s face flushed crimson in an instant. It was unclear whether she was flustered because her mistress’s secret had been unearthed, or if she felt a deep sense of shame at a man inquiring after a woman’s private affairs.

 

—T-that… I cannot tell you such things.

 

It was exactly what he had expected. Without missing a beat, Ethan let out a dry smirk and pulled a weapon from his inner pocket—one designed to force open any mouth.

The maid’s eyes became glued to the thick wad of banknotes. In her wavering pupils, fear and shame evaporated rapidly, replaced by the creeping tide of greed.

It was inevitable. No matter how generously the House of Kentrell paid its weekly wages, it couldn’t possibly compete with the price Ethan was offering.

Finally, choosing money over loyalty to her mistress, the maid glanced nervously at Eve’s firmly shut bedroom door before leaning toward Ethan to whisper.

 

—You must keep it a secret that I told you.

 

He nodded as if it were a given and handed over the stack of cash. Snatching the price of her sold conscience and tucking it away, the maid finally delivered the answer Ethan had been hunting for so relentlessly.

 

—Her period has been stopped for quite some time now.

 

In that moment, something surged from the darkest depths of his gut.

Pregnant. She was undeniably pregnant.

His heart, ignited by a searing euphoria, raced as if it might jump its tracks at any second, but Ethan masked it behind a cold, steel-like expression as he asked calmly:

 

—How long?

—It has been over a month and a fortnight.

 

A month and a fortnight. It meant his child had been alive and breathing for that long. How many years had he anticipated his firstborn? The day he would hold them in his arms—calling a son by his grandfather’s name, or a daughter by his mother’s—was now within arm’s reach. An impulse to kick down that door and press his lips to Eve’s belly nearly consumed him.

But his racing heart hardened into ice once more.

If left as is, his child would be masquerading as Owen Karras’s brat.

That simply will not do.

The child deserved to be born a Fairchild.

The time had finally come. Time to eliminate Owen Karras and return Eve to Sherwood.

Just before a predator snaps the neck of the prey it’s been toying with, a flash of murderous intent, laced with pleasure, flickered in his frost-sharp eyes.

Ignoring the maid, who stood frozen despite knowing the malice wasn’t aimed at her, Ethan strode past, whistling a cheerful baritone strain of a melody stuck in his head.

Did they say Owen Karras was returning to the front tomorrow?

The timing was so perfect it was practically a divine revelation. He couldn’t let a golden opportunity from fate slip away.

Ethan had plenty of leave remaining, but he would gladly forfeit it to follow the man. Wasn’t it only right to see off the thief who had dared to take his place—to escort him on his final journey?

Of course, that ‘send-off’ wouldn’t involve waving a handkerchief in farewell; rather, it would involve grabbing the man by the scruff of his neck and shoving him through the gates of hell.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Tony meticulously tucked the blanket around her with his small hands, his face clouded with worry.

 

—Eve, are you sure it isn’t the flu?

—I’m sure.

 

It was only because her morning sickness had struck without warning that she’d been forced to lie down.

 

—Well, that’s a relief, but….

 

The child’s hand patted the back of his mother as she lay on her side.

 

—Don’t be sick, Eve.

 

Eve looked at the boy who was watching her with such pity, and felt a pang of pity for him instead.

 

—You’re the one who shouldn’t be sick, my….

 

Baby.

Now that she carried another life within her, a piercing regret washed over her every time she looked at her firstborn.

When I had you, I couldn’t put you first.

Back then, reality had taken precedence over the life growing inside her. Consequently, she had never been able to fully rejoice in Tony’s existence; to be honest, she had spent more time in regret than in joy. The guilt—the haunting thought that Tony’s frailty might be her fault—only grew larger as the new life in her womb vibrated with vitality.

 

—Take a nap. I’ll stay here and protect you.

 

When did this fragile babe grow so much? I’m the one who will protect you. She was holding fast to that tiny but warm hand, enduring the toll of the other child’s growth, when a knock came at the bedroom door.

 

—Lady Evelyn, I’ve brought your tea.

—Come in.

 

The maid who entered was as pale as a sheet. Eve stared intently at the woman’s uncharacteristic demeanor but didn’t ask what was wrong.

Now was not the time. Only after she took a sip of the lemon tea provided by the maid did her churning stomach finally settle. Eve declined the hot chocolate Tony urged her to try and rose from the bed.

 

—I’m going to go change into something more comfortable.

 

She followed the maid, who fled toward the dressing room as if escaping. Once the door was closed, the sound of the maid’s anxiously trembling breath became stark.

Something definitely happened.

Eve approached slowly, her voice whispering with a sympathetic tremor.

 

—Effie.

—…Yes, My Lady.

—Did Ethan Fairchild take the bait?

 

Though she was shaking, the maid nodded with certainty.

 

—Just as you instructed, My Lady, I said nothing about you being pregnant. Fortunately, the Major only asked if your period had stopped, and I simply answered that it had.

 

Revealing only circumstances ripe for interpretation without explicitly exposing the truth. To Ethan Fairchild, it opened the path to leap into the next round; to Eve, it provided a safe exit from the game.

The play, featuring a trusted maid as the lead actress, had followed Eve’s script to perfection.

 

—Well done.

 

Despite the praise, Effie couldn’t put her heart at ease. She hurriedly pulled something from her pocket and held it out. It was a wad of cash that, even at a glance, was a staggering amount.

 

—However, Major Fairchild gave me this as payment. You told me that betraying you too easily would arouse suspicion, so I took it for the time being, but….

 

Eve gave the honest maid a tender smile.

My eye for people has improved quite a bit.

It was ‘blind money’ that the maid could have kept without anyone knowing. Yet, the woman was so upright she was practically stiff, acting as if she were handing over stolen goods to the police.

 

—Effie, this is yours, of course. It’s the reward for keeping your loyalty while merely pretending to betray me.

 

Eve tucked the roll of bills back into the maid’s apron pocket and asked:

 

—More importantly, what did he say when he heard the news?

—He said nothing, but… he seemed pleased. Then he appeared to be deep in thought before returning to his room. I don’t know if I should mention this as well, but he was whistling….

—Tell me everything.

—It was definitely… a f-funeral march.

 

It was clear whose death was being commemorated in advance. The wolf would soon bared its fangs and lunged at Eve’s now-useless hound.

Everything is going according to plan.

Across the woman’s pale, bloodless face, the vivid, crimson smile of a predator who had just bitten into the neck of its prey began to spread.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Chantal.

As Owen headed back to the front, that name remained lodged in his throat like a thorn.

 

—Ethan Fairchild has sensed something suspicious. So, we have to leave Chantal be for the time being.

 

It was driving him mad, leaving without finishing that woman off.

Just die on your own, please, Chantal.

But as it turned out, it wasn’t the woman who was at death’s door; it was Owen himself.

No sooner had he returned to the hospital than a bolt from the blue struck: he had been reassigned to a field hospital on the front lines. And at the field hospital, they didn’t even give him time to unpack before driving him straight into the theater of war.

The reason? They needed a military surgeon to stay in the heat of battle where the wounded were pouring in, to assist with patient evacuation.

I should have asked to change my post to the rear in advance.

The price of being so distracted by the business with Chantal that he failed to think that far ahead was irreversible. In a war zone where only military lines existed, there was no way to contact Lady Evelyn and beg her to pull him out of this hell.

Fate was clearly not on Owen’s side. To make matters worse, a fierce blizzard began to howl the very next day, leaving the encampment completely isolated.

It took four full days for the snow to stop and the sky to clear. Owen watched the soldiers clearing the snow from the temporary runway, dreaming of his escape.

The medical transport will be here soon. If I can just endure this hardship, I can return to the arms of my Queen.

However, what emerged through the piled snow was not his allies, but the enemy. The camp was surrounded by enemy troops in an instant. Owen faced the grim reality as he watched his allies’ resistance grow increasingly futile.

The medical transport won’t be coming. And neither will the reinforcements, obviously.

Before long, the defensive line was breached without mercy. Enemy soldiers began to swarm toward the aid station tents.

 

—I d-don’t want to die.

 

Abandoning a patient who was picking up a rifle for a final stand, Owen scrambled into the nearest trench and hid. As he sat huddled and trembling, the approaching sounds of death tightened around his throat.

I’m going to die here.

Without ever getting to hold my child.

To have chased a dream all the way here, only to be devoured by it—could there be a more tragic fate? Just as Owen broke into tears, shaking like a dying beast—

 

 

Boom!

 

 

A thunderous roar tore through the sky. A plane. Then, the staccato of machine-gun fire hammered the frozen earth.

Enemy aircraft!

As Owen buried his head between his knees, cowering even further, someone outside shouted in Mercian:

 

—It’s our Air Force! We’re saved!