The Right to Choose
Maeve was flustered. She had thought it before, but around this man, any attempt at prediction seemed utterly pointless.
His face and expression remained consistently blank, and those deep yet somehow hollow red eyes put a person on edge every time they met hers.
Did the Duke even know how thoroughly the young master had been dragged through the rumor mill of noble society? Right now Aern was a fish dying on the chopping block. Whether the gossip was true or not, the sheer volume of it circulating through high society was more than any child could bear.
If he had knowingly left the boy in that position simply to dodge pressure over the succession, then she had misjudged him—badly.
This time Maeve could not hide her expression. She pressed her lips together tightly; the smile she had forced onto her face trembled at the corners.
Selver seemed to review his own words for a moment, lifting his gaze before locking eyes with her again and speaking slowly.
“You appear to have misunderstood.”
“……”
“I am not using Aern.”
Maeve drew a deep breath and stared at the man before her with wide eyes. She needed a clearer explanation. Seeing that the woman had no intention of backing down, he continued in the same indifferent tone.
“That child will be allowed to grow up freely, as he wishes.”
Freely, as he wishes? The position of heir to a ducal house was about as far from the word “freedom” as one could get. In truth, the wisest way to let him live freely would have been not to make him the heir at all.
The claim that he would actually inherit the title was something that only circulated in society; the Duke himself had never once said it. Maeve recalled that fact and reviewed the external rumors.
Whether the Duke had officially acknowledged it or not, the outside world was already loudly calling Aern the heir of House Cardenas. There was no way a child would be unaware of rumors that reached him so clearly.
With outside expectations rising by the day, if the Duke continued to neglect his education, the boy was highly likely to interpret that neglect in an entirely different light.
“I’m curious how not educating him equates to a free life.”
“Five tutors failed to last even three months. Five of them in a little over a year.”
Selver Cardenas exhaled a long breath and spoke flatly. Maeve let out a soft sound of consideration.
“Then shouldn’t we take that as the child’s own will?”
Looking only at the situation, the Duke’s thinking was not strange. Yet Maeve remembered the suspicious reactions of the nanny and the butler, and the tears of the young master who had been so thoroughly insulted.
That he would refuse lessons even while enduring such contempt still struck her as odd.
“……Was it the young master who rejected the tutors?”
At the woman’s question the man blinked once, propped his chin on one hand, and answered.
“No. They walked out on their own. Every last one of them said the same thing.”
Maeve waited for what would follow.
“The young master has no aptitude for scholarship. No matter how much etiquette and manners are taught, he has no will to learn. Hagen, what else was there?”
“……There were also remarks that his inability to focus in class stemmed from having lived as a commoner for so long.”
“All sorts of things were said, it seems.”
At the calm words of the white-haired old man, Maeve closed her mouth.
“If he has neither the will nor the talent, I see no reason to force it. I am sorry for making you come all this way twice.”
The Duke spoke as if it were of little consequence. There was no sense of disappointment or frustration toward the young master—only the genuine appearance of a man willing to respect whatever his adopted son truly felt. Maeve pressed her temple once with her fingers and asked,
“Did you hear all of that solely through the tutors?”
“Except for a few things the nanny reported. Is there a problem?”
“Have you asked the young master yourself?”
Maeve searched her memory for the reaction Aern had shown the moment the Duke was mentioned at the Academy. Even though he had been the boy’s father on paper for quite some time, calling him “Your Grace” still seemed far more natural to him.
The flustered look when he realized he had misspoken made it clear that it had not been an act. She found herself wondering whether the two of them ever held a proper conversation at all.
“Has the young master ever told you directly that he does not wish to become the heir?”
Maeve thought of her previous life. She thought of Aern Cardenas’s death. He had voluntarily entered a battlefield where defeat was certain, standing in for the Duke who had been living in seclusion at the time.
That choice had cost him his life and prevented him from inheriting the title—but if he had never wanted to be the heir in the first place, there would have been no need for such a choice at all. He could simply have lived freely, unburdened by the family.
Selver closed his mouth and looked at Maeve. He shut his eyes briefly as if trying to grasp the meaning of her words, then opened them and spoke.
“There are things one can know without hearing them directly.”
“I disagree. There are also things that only become clear when one hears them directly.”
Maeve’s and Selver’s gazes tangled in the air. The man who had been staring intently into the woman’s green eyes suddenly turned his head aside.
“Do I look like a man with enough free time to play word games with you?”
“I am merely saying it is worth confirming.”
Maeve spoke in a subdued voice. In her previous life the future Duke had clearly been shaken by the young master’s death.
She did not know the full circumstances yet, but the expression on his face as he drank the poisoned cup had been pure regret, despair, and rage.
That had revealed something that existed between them. If she continued to leave things as they were under the excuse of worrying for the child, he would inevitably repeat the same regret.
“……If you keep guessing and miss this moment, you may one day come to regret it. And I have no intention of clinging to someone who has no will to learn and begging him to study.”
“……Fine. Let’s say that’s true. Then what do you gain from this?”
Selver’s eyes narrowed. A relentless gaze that sought to uncover her true intentions settled on Maeve.
“Spare me any nonsense about simply wanting to try teaching him once.”
It was a voice that carried an instinctive, oppressive weight. Maeve straightened her back even more firmly, trying to hide her tension.
“Show me your real motives.”
“……I have no other intentions. Looking at the young master simply reminds me of my younger siblings, and I find myself a little concerned.”
At the same time she swallowed the final words about stopping the rebellion, answering calmly.
The Duke continued to regard Maeve with sharp eyes. Sensing the atmosphere that showed no sign of ending, Hagen rose uncomfortably and approached the Duke’s side.
“Your Grace, this is the person recommended by House Airen, complete with a letter of recommendation. Perhaps you might listen a little more……”
Selver pressed two fingers to the space between his brows. Arms folded, he leaned back against the chair and closed his eyes for a long while in thought.
“……I am aware that the boy’s reputation in society is poor. But once he makes his formal debut, there will be no turning back.”
He was right. Sometimes ignorance truly was a blessing. From the genuine concern coloring the Duke’s words, Maeve realized something.
Ah. So the Duke of Cardenas does care for his adopted son. He simply believed that this was the best way to protect the child.
If the Duke truly cherished his adopted son, and yet continued to hide that affection and leave the boy neglected—if their relationship remained unchanged from the past—
Maeve could easily guess how this story would end.
If she stood by and did nothing, the young master would one day walk into another deadly situation, and the Duke would lose every place he could lean on, remaining alone to bitterly regret his past and raise a rebellion. She had to stop it.
“Not learning at all and choosing not to use what one has learned are entirely different matters.”
Maeve spoke with a steady gaze and voice, looking straight into the Duke’s eyes without wavering.
“If one never learns, there is no choice to begin with. One simply lives believing that the world one is trapped in is everything.”
She continued slowly.
“If you truly wish for the young master to choose his own free life, then I believe he must begin by learning. Only then can it truly be called a ‘choice,’ can it not?”
Not missing the way the Duke seemed to be deliberating, Maeve quickly spoke again.
“If you still find me untrustworthy, you need not hire me right away.”
The Duke lifted his head and looked at the woman as if asking what she meant.
“Instead, how about this?”
Maeve steadied her slightly trembling voice and explained calmly.
“I will temporarily take on the role of tutor and discover the young master’s true intentions. I will confirm for you whether he sincerely has no desire to inherit the title, or whether those around him are forcing that conclusion.”
Maeve smiled brightly.
“Let that serve as my interview, Your Grace.”
Hearing the woman’s bold proposal, Selver tugged one corner of his mouth into a slanted smile. At the same time he stopped the fingers that had been tapping the desk and spoke.
“That kind of bravado isn’t bad.”
A faint spark of interest flickered across the face that had remained nearly expressionless the entire time.
“Do as you please.”