Chapter 10: The Price of a Mother’s Love

“…I will come to fetch you, do you remember? He seemed to want to see you all along, but until now, we couldn’t bring him immediately, fearing that a visit from an outsider might put too much strain on his condition.”

“Ah…”

“It might feel sudden, but Ian was looking for you especially often this morning. If it’s not an imposition, could you visit him today?”

Ilya recalled this morning while waiting for the middle-aged woman’s response.

Ian, who had spent most of his days sleeping for a month, was starting to stay awake for longer periods. It was likely a positive sign that his health was improving. Hearing from a servant that Ian had been awake since breakfast, Ilya had gone to see him along with Claire.

“In order to let the high and mighty know that we are human too, I had to show them that even a commoner like me can do a man’s share of work.”

Ian’s expression as he spoke softly was indifferent, but therefore his words pierced the heart even more sharply. It was as if his past—entering the palace alone with nothing but his status as a commoner—was being painted vividly before their eyes. The Imperial Palace was not a place to live, but a place to survive.

Silence fell over the room after Ian finished speaking. It felt as though Ian’s surroundings had always been filled with people meant to hurt him, as if the world were screaming that he must never be happy.

Since the atmosphere had grown too heavy so early in the morning, Claire spoke to Ian cheerfully, trying to change the mood.

“Ian, the weather is exceptionally beautiful today. The morning air truly lifts one’s spirits.”

Ian, who had been staring into space while leaving his hand in Zeimer’s care, turned his gaze toward Claire.

“…Director Janet used to say that often as well.”

“The Director of the Rose Orphanage, right?”

“Yes. Cough. She truly treated me like a son. Even though I’ve sent word, I’m sure she’s still worried… It’s been on my mind.”

After closing the window for Ian, who had started coughing, and checking that the warming magic on the blankets was functioning properly, Zeimer left the room and called out to Ilya, who was walking ahead. He suggested they bring Director Janet.

Since teleportation causes severe motion sickness for ordinary people without mana, Ilya decided to go personally. He felt that as she was an important guest, he should escort her himself. He had to slice his schedule into tiny pieces to make it work, but what did that matter?

The moment she heard Ian wanted to see her, Madame Janet said she could go right that second, changed her clothes, threw on a shawl, and came out.

During the entire carriage ride to the Palace, Madame Janet tried desperately to remain calm. Her expression was plain, but her trembling hands clutching a handkerchief and the tears pooling in her eyes showed exactly how anxious she was. Ilya simply watched in silence.

Once they arrived and finished the entry procedures, it was clear the woman was at her wit’s end with worry, so Ilya hurried their pace toward Ian’s room.

When they entered, Ian was awake—just about to have lunch—with Claire sitting by his side.

“Ian!”

Madame Janet ran toward him, her facade of composure completely shattered. She pulled Ian, who had been leaning against a pillow, into a tight embrace and sobbed. Ian flinched for a moment but soon hugged her back, his eyes turning red.

In the end, Claire had no choice but to step aside to allow for their reunion.

“How is your body?”

“I’m okay.”

“What do you mean ‘okay’! Look how much weight you’ve lost. Your face is half the size it was. My heart has been floating in mid-air ever since I heard the news you woke up.”

“Director, have you been well?”

“Of course, I’ve been doing just fine. But while you were at the Temple for a year, I went there every single day for dawn prayers. Praying that even a bit of my devotion would reach you.”

“You didn’t have to do that…”

“My heart felt like it was being torn apart. You wouldn’t know the heart of a mother.”

Madame Janet poured out her words while busily moving a spoon for him.

“Haha… are the kids doing well?”

“Yes. Two have become independent and three new ones joined. So hurry up and get better so you can come see them.”

“Yes. They must be… cough, cough… cute.”

At the sudden burst of coughing, Madame Janet held a cup to Ian’s lips and patted his chest.

“It was very hard, wasn’t it?”

“…Yes.”

“It must have been so hard. Ian, I am so proud of you. You are my pride and joy.”

She was my oldest friend and my oldest family. When I was young, I think I even used to follow her around calling her “Mom” without a second thought.

When the first oracle was delivered and I was dragged away by the rough hands of the Imperial Knights without even a proper goodbye, the Director had chased the carriage all the way to the main road, barefoot, still covered in soap from treading laundry in the backyard.

I remembered the old days—being shoved into a carriage without knowing why, pressing my face to the glass and exchanging silent screams. Only after seeing her soles completely torn up, leaving dark red footprints on the packed dirt, did I give up on going back and slumped onto the floor of the carriage in resignation. I could still hear her voice like a thin scream on the wind. She was calling my name.

If I had to count the regrets in my life, one of them was growing up and drawing a line between myself and Director Janet. When I found out from being beaten by other kids in the alleys that she wasn’t my real mother, I felt an absurd sense of betrayal and began calling her “Director” exclusively. By the time I realized she viewed me as her own child and was a true mother figure to me… I was already in the middle of my turbulent teenage years.

I was the Hero. I couldn’t let my burden weigh down anyone else. They say parents are people who embrace everything about their children… but I didn’t want my mother to share my burden. Everything had to be mine alone.

I closed my eyes. Even showing her this state of mine felt like a sin.

“Thank you for coming back alive. Now, rest well, my child.”

“I’ll come to see you often. Just stay healthy for me.”

“Be sure to thank the people of the Palace for me. And this… I made this over the past year. A sweater and socks. Thanks to the support funds, I could make them with the best yarn. Never forget that I am always on your side.”

“Now that it’s all over, try to act a bit more like a spoiled child! Ever since you were little, you only knew how to make that one grumpy face. You have no charm!”

Ian swallowed hard, as if his throat were blocked. Only after Madame Janet finally left—kissing his forehead, tucking in his blankets, and looking back repeatedly—could he breathe again.

He finally whispered the words he thought he would never say directly.

“Yes, Mother.”