Chapter 22: Do you resent that child?

Julian gulped, the weight of the Duke’s body and his grief pressing down on him.

> [Target: Duke Alaric — Status: Hallucinating / Extreme Emotional Vulnerability]

> [Affection: 2% (glitch error) 85% (Distorted)]

’Oh God,’ Julian trembled. Just how was it that the Duke was having such a heavy hallucination? And his affection was way too high to be believable.

Was it because he was mistaking him for the Duchess?

But he looked nothing like the Duchess, aside from the eye and hair, so why was this happening?

Julian looked at the empty bottles.

It was probably a side effect of having too much to drink. By the morning, the Duke may not even remember someone had entered his room and regard it all as a dream.

But even so, this was a situation Julian did not want to find himself in. It was terrifying.

"Your Grace," Julian whispered, his voice trembling. "I am not—"

But the Duke did not let him finish. He leaned down, his forehead dropping against Julian’s shoulder, his grip on Julian’s wrists tightening as if he were afraid Julian would vanish if he let go.

"Don’t speak," the Duke sobbed into the fabric of Julian’s coat. "Just... stay. Don’t leave me with that child again."

Don’t make me look at what took you away."

Julian froze, his grip on the Duke tightening a bit.

"Your grace, do you... Do you resent that child?"

"How could I not?" The Duke answered with no hesitation and Julian’s body tensed up.

"Why?"

"Because he’s the one who took you away from him. How could I not resent him?"

The Duke wasn’t just mourning at this moment; he was terrified. And in his drunken delusion, he was confessing the very root of the frost that was killing Lucius.

He just admitted that he blamed Lucius wholeheartedly for his mother’s demise.

This made Julian frown. How could he think such a thing of his own flesh and blood?

But was it solely because he had been born that day? Or was it because Lucius looked nothing like his mother, and instead reflected the Duke completely... Reflected his own incompetent image.

If the child looked anything like his mother, would the Duke still bear to hate him?

Julian’s heart twisted with a mix of pity and cold fury. He looked up at the ceiling, trying to maintain his composure as the Duke’s heavy weight pressed him into the floor. This man was a titan of the North, a knight and the King’s brother, and yet here he was—broken, weeping, and blaming a seven-year-old for a tragedy governed by fate.

"No mother would want their child to be hated and isolated," Julian said, his voice dropping into a soft and smooth tone.

If he was not going to get the Duke to come out using normal means, then he might as well adopt this method that has been presented before him.

He reached for the Duke’s hair, a bit reluctant but he finally dropped it on the Duke’s head, stroking his hair softly to give him a comforting feeling.

He leaned into the role of the Duchess’s ghost, knowing it was the only way to pierce the Duke’s armor.

"It would hurt more than being dead, Alaric. To watch you wither, and to watch him freeze... that is the true tragedy."

The Duke flinched at the mention of the pain it would cause her. He raised his head, his face illuminated by another flash of lightning. His eyes searched Julian’s purple eye, desperate for answers that would justify him and not go against him. But there was none, as the words Julian said only served to reprimand his role as a father.

"You have to learn to live without me," Julian continued, his voice firming. "Remember, you’re not the only one who lost me that day. That child lost me, too. And while you have your wine and your memories, he has nothing. He doesn’t even have a father to hold his hand or tuck him in bed."

Alaric’s grip on Julian’s wrists slackened.

"What do you mean he has nothing? He has the maids." The Duke said and Julian pitied him.

"Do you think the care of the maids is enough to substitute the role of both a mother and father in that child’s life? He doesn’t have his mother, and his father, who is alive, neglects him. What do you think the maids will do? Would they love and treasure the same heir that had been discarded?"

The word father seemed to strike him like a physical blow. The delusion was beginning to fray at the edges, the reality of the cold study seeping back in.

"He is your reflection," Julian whispered, sensing the Duke’s internal struggle. "He looks like you because he is the part of you that you were so afraid to show to the world. A weak, helpless, and lonely child."

The Duke tightened his grip even more, heading those words but Julian did not stop.

"By hating him, you are only hating yourself for not being enough to save me. But it wasn’t your fault. And it certainly wasn’t his. So please let go of the hate in your heart and learn to love that child."

The Duke stayed still for a while and then finally released Julian. He covered his face with his hands, his breathing ragged.

"This is why I always dreaded the day I would see you again," he mumbled under his alcohol breath. "I knew you would scold me like you always do. I wished you would hug and comfort me, tell me you’ll be by my side from now on and never leave me, but..." He hicked, his shoulders trembling again and he bit his lower lip to fight the tears from gushing out.

He was the picture of agony.

Julian watched him. There was nothing he could do to help the Duke who was in agony, and he wished there was. It would make his life a lot easier.

And then the quest window pinged...

>[SPECIAL ITEM UNLOCKED]

A special item at a time like this?

Julian looked at it and then blinked, his eyes struck with disbelief, and then he looked back at the Duke, who was still hung on a ghost.

An item to help his heart feel a little bit at ease and listen to the comforting words of his dead wife had appeared but the probl,em was the price...

It cost 200SP and Julian didn’t have that much. Even if he did, would he want to spend it all on this one item?

He needed to save for his potion too.

He clenched his fist and bit his lip, his heart aching for the price.

He knew a way to get an extra 100SP to buy that item, but in order to do that, he needed to complete the current mission.

Julian stood up, dusted his pants, and then reached his hand towards the Duke.

He didn’t know if he was still stuck on the delusion, but he hoped he had at least a shred of a clear mind.

"Duke Alaric," he called and the Duke raised his head. "I’ll make a promise to you right now. If you come with me to the ballroom and wish your son a happy birthday, I’ll help you meet your wife one last time."