Chapter 26
What If Things Had Been Different?
“Blair.”
Hedrin, who had been watching her anxiously, grabbed her slender arm as if to restrain her. Realizing how sharp his voice had sounded, he bit his lip.
Her arm felt so fragile it seemed it might break with the slightest force.
Hedrin steadied his emotions, loosened his grip, and spoke more calmly.
“…You’re not in your right mind right now. Calm down and—”
“No. I don’t want to.”
Blair pulled her arm free before he could finish. Hedrin’s eyes wavered.
She met his gaze directly and continued.
“If I recover my memories and it turns out you were falsely accused, I’ll clear your name. But if it’s the truth, I’ll resent you for the rest of my life.”
She didn’t want to be trapped in a past she couldn’t remember, nor live as either a victim or a sinner over something she didn’t even know.
“I was sad too.”
“….”
“I was struggling too.”
“….”
“I was afraid… of having to doubt the people who loved me so much—her, and my mother. Of having to confirm the truth…”
Once she began speaking words she had once swallowed in fear, long-suppressed sorrow surged up. Tears she had been holding back spilled down her cheeks.
Blair forced her words out through her rising sobs so they wouldn’t break her sentence.
“But I don’t want to live like that anymore. Not knowing anything, just burying everything because it’s hard or scary.”
Even if everything between them would eventually end, she didn’t want to run away like she had in her past life.
Watching her tear-filled eyes, Hedrin’s fingertips trembled. He clenched his hand tightly, forcing himself not to move.
He had seen her on the verge of tears before—but this was the first time she had actually cried in front of him. And the first time she had come at him so directly.
Seeing her like that, he no longer wanted to fight her. Or perhaps, he simply couldn’t.
“…I made a mistake.”
His low voice echoed through the quiet room.
“I forgot that our contract is based on cooperation. And that cooperation requires trust.”
“….”
“I won’t doubt or interrogate you like I did today again.”
Blair stared at him blankly as he calmly apologized.
She had confronted him to avoid repeating the past—but she hadn’t expected him to accept it so easily, let alone apologize.
Part of her felt relieved. But another thought surfaced.
What if I had confronted you like this back then? Even if I was afraid?
Would our ending have been different? Would we have avoided such a long detour?
Now, there was no way to know.
“Please rest. You’re exhausted.”
Blair obeyed and lay down on the bed. She really was tired—she had gone out, met strangers, fainted, and even argued with Hedrin.
Hedrin watched her pull the blanket up, then stood and walked to the fireplace.
Blair peeked over the blanket, watching him curiously.
Then his voice came.
“Are you afraid of fireplaces?”
The sudden question made her hesitate.
She had developed the fear after an accident, but she had never admitted it out loud.
And she had also hidden it because Katrina hated it being mentioned.
“Just sleep for now.”
Hedrin lit a piece of paper with a lighter and tossed it into the fireplace.
He watched her cautiously in case she panicked again—but instead, her breathing soon evened out. Occasionally, a dry cough slipped through.
Once the fire stabilized, he added more wood and sat down beside her.
The warmth filled the room. Blair’s pale cheeks slowly regained color. She looked peaceful—almost like a girl again.
Just like the day he first met her.
And then Esmeralda’s voice echoed in his memory:
“It’s not that child’s fault. Blair is a good girl, regardless of who her mother is. Don’t you think so too?”
A memory surfaced.
It was a week after their first meeting.
Hedrin had returned to the Empress’s palace with the rabbit-fur earmuffs Blair had lent him.
He had handed them to Esmeralda.
“Oh my, where did you find something so adorable?”
“It was lent to me by Her Highness the Princess. I came to return it.”
“Blair? When?”
“She didn’t tell you?”
“Not at all. She didn’t mention anything.”
Blair hadn’t even told Esmeralda about helping him.
She had chosen to keep her “good deed” secret—even when it could have earned her praise.
Hedrin had been momentarily speechless.
“Did something happen between you two?”
Esmeralda asked, intrigued.
He briefly explained—leaving out that he had gone to rest in the garden because he knew she would worry.
Esmeralda listened with a warm smile, as if she found the two children endearing.
When he finished, she handed the earmuffs back to him.
“Then you should return it yourself.”
“Pardon?”
“A person who receives kindness should give thanks in person. Don’t try to make me do your errands.”
Though she sounded playful, there was sincerity beneath her tone.
Logically, she was right.
But Hedrin had no desire to visit Blair himself.
The Princess was the daughter of that woman.
And though Esmeralda could love her regardless, he could not.
“I wonder… did you even try them on? They’d look adorable on you.”
“I didn’t wear them!”
Esmeralda laughed, then grew more thoughtful.
“Hedrin. Do you dislike Blair?”
He didn’t answer.
It wasn’t that he disliked her. It was her background. If forced to choose, then yes—it was closer to dislike.
But saying that felt dishonest. And denying it felt like lying.
“Blair isn’t like the children you dislike. She isn’t loud. She doesn’t hate or insult you. And she even helped you, didn’t she?”
After a pause, Hedrin finally spoke.
“…But she is that woman’s daughter.”
“That’s not fair. She is not responsible for her mother.”
“….”
“Blair is a good child. Regardless of who her mother is. Don’t you agree?”
He couldn’t refute it.
Blair and Katrina could not be separated in his mind—but Blair herself had done nothing wrong.
He had simply refused to acknowledge it.
“I’m sorry for dragging you children into the consequences of adult conflicts.”
Esmeralda gave a bitter smile.
Hedrin said nothing.
She had always been kind. The only person who had raised him after losing his parents. Almost like a mother.
So he couldn’t refuse her.
Eventually, he went to the Princess’s palace himself.
The knights were shocked by the unexpected visit of the Delmarc Duke.
“I came to thank Her Highness for a kindness she showed me during the New Year Festival.”
Then he saw her.
A small figure on the balcony.
Sleepy eyes. Pale platinum hair. A face rubbing away morning drowsiness.
Then—she noticed him.
Her eyes widened.
And her entire face crumpled into panic.
“Y-Your Grace!”
She ran back inside shouting for her maid, not realizing the balcony door was still open.
Hedrin let out a small laugh.
Wide eyes. That flustered expression.
Just seeing that had been enough to make him think—
Maybe Esmeralda was right.
On that winter morning.
