Deborah dug up the rose garden with a shovel?
"Of all places, she did that in my wife's garden?! Where is Deborah right now?!"
Duke Seymour bellowed in outrage.
How dare she lay a hand on that garden? No doubt, unable to handle her own temper during her disciplinary period, she took it out on something completely unrelated.
Pathetic girl.
When would she finally grow up and act like a proper person?
His blood pressure spiked and the back of his neck stiffened. He thought he'd already seen the worst of his daughter—but clearly, there was still a basement beneath that rock bottom.
"I asked you, where is she?!"
"She's in the rose garden right now. She's only disturbed a small part of it, so… perhaps it would be best to calm down a bit…"
"Out of the way!"
Brushing past his flustered aide, the duke stormed toward the garden his wife once lovingly tended.
The magically preserved garden was right next to his office. But he had rarely entered it, only viewing it from beyond the window—afraid the memories would be too overwhelming.
On any other day, he might have hesitated to enter. But today, his fury had left no room for sentiment.
He stomped through the garden, approaching Deborah who stood in its center.
"You!"
"Oh? You've come?"
Deborah spoke as if she'd been expecting him. The duke opened his mouth, ready to unleash his anger—only to hesitate for a moment.
With her long hair loosely tied and draped over one shoulder, she looked uncannily like his late wife today.
And that wasn't all. Deborah was wearing a white rose corsage in her hair—a flower her mother used to adorn her with as a child.
He had expected to see her decked in flashy jewels as always. But instead, this sight stirred nostalgia and muddled paternal emotions, causing a strange dissonance within him.
"…What exactly are you doing here?!"
He finally managed to raise his voice, though the initial storm had lost some of its force.
"I was just taking a walk and admiring the roses. You can't enjoy these varieties in winter, after all."
Deborah met his eyes directly and gently stroked a soft-pink rose—one that reminded him of his wife's favorite blooms.
Did she plan all this? Is she copying her mother's look on purpose to defuse my anger?
How cunning.
Duke Seymour sneered coldly at her calculated behavior.
"What's gotten into you, suddenly admiring flowers? Aren't you the one obsessed with jewels to an obnoxious degree?"
"…What's the difference between a diamond and this flower?"
Her retort made Duke Seymour frown deeply.
"What do you mean by that?"
"I just thought—this rose, which has no scent, never wilts, and isn't eaten by bugs, isn't all that different from a diamond that doesn't change over time."
Duke Seymour stared at his daughter, feeling caught off guard.
Truth be told, she wasn't wrong. When comparing just the properties, the roses in this garden and diamonds were rather similar—both colorless, scentless, and unchanging.
But in this situation, to accept Deborah's logic would be a blow to his pride.
"You dare say that a mere luxury item is no different from the flowers your mother cared for? Watch your words."
He snapped coldly.
"Mother didn't raise flowers like this."
Deborah lowered her long, violet-tinted lashes as she gently caressed the petals.
"What did you say?"
"Aren't flowers beautiful precisely because they wilt in winter, only to bloom again in warm seasons?"
"You refuse to admit your wrongdoing and instead spout nonsense. How disgraceful."
The Duke's expression grew even harsher, as if to say he wouldn't let her get away with honeyed words.
She's being unusually clever, but…
He could never let her off the hook for digging up the cherished garden left by his wife.
"It's not nonsense."
Deborah suddenly pulled something out of a small pocket attached to her shawl.
"Please take a look. These are Mother's own words."
The Duke's eyes widened at the sight of the pale lavender stationery in her hand. If his eyes weren't deceiving him, it was the same stationery his wife used—down to the butterfly patterns along the edges.
"This is a letter she wrote herself."
With slightly trembling hands, Duke Seymour accepted the letter Deborah held out to him.
"Marienne Seymour to Georges Seymour"
Inside the well-preserved letter, a long-missed handwriting was written.
"Where on earth did you find this…?"
The duke's voice caught in his throat, making him unable to finish his sentence properly.
"I found it here."
As Deborah looked at the rosebush she had dug up, the duke quickly began scanning the letter. Reading a letter from Marien he hadn't even known existed, he felt as if he had been transported to the past, overwhelmed by a distant sense of nostalgia.
***
I let out a long-held breath slowly.
The fearsome Duke Seymour, who had spoken so coldly before, immediately softened as he saw his late wife's letter. The fierceness in his eyes vanished.
'I almost cried from fear.'
What kind of father is that terrifying?
Thankfully, Deborah was born with nerves of steel. If it were the me from my previous life, my legs would've given out from sheer terror.
'Delivering a letter to my own father feels like risking my life.'
Just how terrible had Deborah been before…
As I sighed inwardly, I took the chance to quietly step back while the duke was lost in emotion.
"I'll be going in now."
He was so absorbed in the duchess's letter that he barely acknowledged my farewell. I quickly left the garden, pressing my chest to calm my pounding heart.
'Good thing I found the letter.'
The reason I recklessly took a shovel into the duke's beloved garden was to retrieve the duchess's letter buried beneath the rosebush.
Originally, it was something the kidnapped female lead found by chance at the center of the rose garden, in the bush beside the glass greenhouse.
It was all described in vivid detail in the novel.
"Miya, why are you trying to run away? If you just stay by my side, even this beautiful garden will be all yours."
Rojad forcefully dragged the female lead into the rose garden, which was practically the symbol of the Duchess herself.
"Please don't do this, Lord Rojad."
"Why would you throw yourself into sharp thorns when you could have roses that shine like eternal gems? Are you stupid, or are you doing this on purpose to provoke me?"
Frustrated by the woman who wouldn't bend to his will, Rojad roughly pushed Miya forward, not caring whether the rose thorns scratched her or not... ahem. Amid the rose bushes, the edge of a box protruding from the ground pressed against her back, and she realized something was buried beneath the earth.
That evening, Miya told them she wanted to take a walk in the garden alone. Desperately clinging to her last hope, she dug into the ground. She believed that a mysterious and beautiful garden like this surely held something important.
Eventually, the female lead discovered a box filled with letters the Duchess had written to the Duke while she was still alive.
"Duke Seymour. I will give you the letters the Duchess left behind, so please let me leave this place."
Miya was able to escape from the sadistic twins thanks to the letters exchanged between Duke Seymour and the Duchess, whose love had been deep and sincere.
'It's an important item for the storyline, but right now, I need to save myself first…'
Instead of stealing the S-rank item, I decided to help the female lead avoid getting kidnapped in the future. With bold determination, I picked up a shovel and entered the garden.
'I was surprised—it's a lot bigger than I thought.'
But thanks to that bastard Rojad pinning Miya against the glasshouse wall, and her falling into the bushes while trying to escape... ahem, I ended up knowing the exact spot where the letters were buried. Besides, anything buried would surely leave a trace.
So for the past few days, I poked around the rose bushes near the greenhouse, closely examining the ground.
'I got stabbed by a ton of thorns, but it was worth it.'
I found a patch of earth that looked unnaturally empty among the rose bushes, dug it up, and finally got my hands on the box mentioned in the novel!
'Everything's great, but there's one thing I can't figure out…'
In the novel, Miya only used the letters to make her deal with the Duke. But when I dug up the box, it contained not only the letters from the Duchess, but also a diary.
Judging by the handwriting, both were clearly written by the same person. So why did Miya only give the letters to the Duke?
'I don't know the reason, but this situation isn't bad for me.'
Thanks to the beginning of the Duchess's diary, I learned that she used to pin white rose corsages on young Deborah quite often.
'There might be even more useful information in here.'
As for the hairstyle and clothing, I modeled them after the Duchess's portrait. The likely reason why the cold Duke had been so tolerant of Deborah's wild behavior all this time… was because her face was nearly identical to the Duchess's.
'That's a great setup—I should take advantage of it.'
Of course, it's a bit obvious, so overusing it could backfire.
'But it seems to have worked this time.'
After making my way out of the maze-like garden, I ran into the Duke's aide who had been waiting nearby.
"My Lady, are you unharmed?"
"Nothing to worry about. But there's something I'd like you to do."
"Please give the order, My Lady."
At my request, the aide's thick brows twitched. He probably thought it was a strange and sudden request.
"It's nothing important, so don't tell Father, okay?"
Though honestly, it wouldn't matter even if he did.
Leaving the slightly suspicious-looking aide behind, I returned to the annex.
***
Duke Seymour stroked his chin as he looked through his wife's letter.
'So Deborah was quoting this part.'
As I looked at the winter garden, filled with only bare branches, I thought about it. Flowers are destined to fall, and that's why they seem all the more beautiful and radiant when they bloom.
The Duke, exhausted from his heavy workload, was taking a brief rest as he skimmed through the letter his wife had written.
He had read this letter—suddenly handed to him by his daughter—hundreds of times over the past couple of days. It made him feel as though he had reunited with his wife.
The letter was written in a light, conversational tone, and thanks to the familiar vocabulary and expressions she often used, he could almost hear her voice in his ears.
Ever since I met you, even the past I once considered miserable began to feel like a season filled with meaning.
As he read the lines in the letter as if engraving them into his eyes, he cast his gaze toward the garden.
Isn't it beautiful, the way something blooms after enduring the cold?
The entrance to the garden, once filled with fully bloomed roses, had now returned to bare black soil as the preservation magic faded away.
From now on, he intended to watch the flowers bloom and wither with the changing seasons. That artificial rose garden—untouched by time—wasn't what his wife would have wanted.
'If the garden hadn't been under a preservation spell, I would've discovered this letter long ago while clearing out the flowers and leveling the soil.'
A sigh escaped him in frustration at his own foolishness. Rubbing the corners of his eyes, he continued reading the letter.
Of course, since you're always buried in rigid magic formulas, you probably won't understand my delicate emotions.
I'm craving hot chocolate now, so I'll end the letter here.
Every time he reached that line, he felt a tinge of disappointment and absentmindedly bit down on his pipe.
Marienne usually wrote letters in a formal, concise manner, sticking strictly to the point. A letter like this—freely written, flowing with her thoughts—was something he hadn't seen since the brief days when they were courting.
'I read it too fast.'
Maybe I should've savored it a bit more.
Thinking his regret was a childish notion, the Duke returned the letter to the drawer and resumed his usual cold demeanor as he began handling his work.
Since it was winter, darkness quickly fell over the world outside. Even though it was already late at night, a mountain of paperwork still awaited his signature. He rang the servant bell and ordered some tea.
"Come in."
At the soft knock on the door, the Duke responded curtly.
'Hmm?'
He expected a servant with tea, but to his surprise, Deborah appeared—with the aide beside her.