The Mistress Runs Away

“stop stealing my translations and credit me properly” 

Joanne retreated, and Genok came into the bedroom while holding a dark cloak.

“Nothing good will come from being seen,” he said, holding out a dark robe.

Killian, who had brought the two back to the castle, left the castle in the early hours of the next day without saying a word, after Genok’s report on some matters. He went to directly see and deal with the tax problems of the estate and the accumulated affairs of the castle management, which had been pushed back.

As Rowena sighed at the amount of not-so-appreciated attention she was getting, a stream of presents appeared in her bedroom every day. This situation was the aftermath of the rumors about Rowena Philone, who had entered the duke’s mansion as soon as the divorce papers were finalized.

The aristocrats who had been pointing their fingers behind her back five years ago, calling her a “dirty woman,” were now sending her cards along with gifts.

Shoes and heels that a person can’t get without having connections, no matter how much money they can pay. The newest dresses from the most famous dressing rooms and extravagant jewels.

Even if she wasn’t given the position of the duchess, they seemed to think that she would later become a major figure and gain influence in the Duchy of Devonshire.

Rowena smirked every time she saw the bribes to win her favor. They were even more foolish than she had thought. After all, she was in a position where she could be discarded if the duke got bored again.

Rowena ignored the dozens of invitations and the neatly wrapped gifts that piled up in the dressing room.

“Send them all back.”

“Yes? But…”

“I don’t plan on keeping these things, any of them.”

Joanne looked at her with a puzzled look, but it was only for a moment.

It had been four days of waiting, with no telegram to indicate when he would be coming home.

It wasn’t a bad thing by any means; thanks to that, she was able to see her son every night, but as anxiety settled into a corner of her heart, Damian suddenly called out.

“Mother! I want to go to the lake.”

Rowena blinked at the sudden request.

“The lake.”

“Yes. I want to go and see it directly. Not just from the window.”

Although Killian didn’t limit the radius of action in the castle, Damian always had the attention of the people in the castle on him.

Damian’s appearance was so similar to Killians that Rowena herself refrained from going out as much as possible; this was in order to avoid any curiosity that may come to her son. But at least she was in a better position than Damian, who could hardly escape his bedroom.

He could get all the toys and food he wanted, but Damian was still “The mistress son,” he wouldn’t be allowed to wander around freely. She would hold her child tight and remind him that while they were staying here, they would need to be quiet. 

“Can’t…can’t I?”

Rowena smiled wryly at her son and said.

“If it’s just for a little while, it would be fine. We can ask uncle Genok to—“

“No. I want to go alone with you, mother.”

Rowena stood up and was about to call Genok, who was standing just outside the door, when she was stopped by her son’s desperate words.

“We haven’t taken a walk together, just the two of us, for such a long time… Don’t tell the uncle. Hmm? Please?”

Damian’s eyes were teary as he grabbed the hem of her dress and pulled it. She closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them and nodded.

“Okay! Then I will come back as soon as the sun rises.”

“Without telling anyone?”

“No. No one will know.”

****