It's Too Late for Regrets - Chapter 3

It was a windy autumn day.

A year had passed since the illegitimate child of Jenaire returned to Lezan and became the Duchess of Eleanor, living in the mansion.

“I never thought you’d take in a bastard, Rayan.”

At the sharp, criticizing voice, Rayan set down the teacup he had been sipping from.

“…Aunt.”

Sitting across from him was a noblewoman with long silver hair neatly tied up, sitting with perfect posture.
She was his aunt, Kyra, who possessed the perfect Eleanor appearance.

She continued in a frosty voice.

“I thought you’d send her away before even half a year passed.”

“….”

“Why are you still keeping a bastard in Eleanor?”

Rayan didn’t answer. Instead, he turned his eyes to the window.
He knew exactly what Kyra had seen that made her speak like this.

The window on the first floor where the drawing room was located was large—bigger than half the wall.
Outside the window, the entire backyard of the mansion was visible.

In the middle of the well-maintained garden and near the large ash tree supposedly planted by his great-grandmother, the woman stood.

Ines was gently touching a swing hanging from the old tree with somewhat awkward hands.

“I don’t want that thing walking around my garden, Rayan.”

Kyra forcefully set down her teacup to draw his attention. The clink of porcelain against the table made an unpleasant sound.

Rayan replied calmly.

“Isn’t the Eleanor garden something the duchess has traditionally managed? It’s not strange for Ines to be there.”

“Ha.”

Kyra’s gaze turned sharp.
She snapped at him.

“Rayan Eleanor. Have you forgotten your father’s will?”

“…Of course not.”

Rayan still didn’t take his eyes off the window as he responded.
Kyra’s brother was his father, the former Grand Duke.

The former Grand Duke, Camille Eleanor, had been brutally killed by a bastard sibling.
His dying will was this:

“Never allow a bastard into Eleanor. If one is born, crush them immediately. Never let Eleanor be stained by the disgrace of bastards again.”

The only ones who heard those words just before his death were Rayan and Kyra.

Naturally, they were also the ones with the strongest views on adultery and illegitimacy in all of Eleanor.

“Then what’s stopping you? Send her away. It’s not like she has anything to do, or is capable of doing anything.”

“Not yet.”

“Why not?”

“It would be a waste to throw her away right now.”

Kyra let out a frustrated sigh.

Her nephew’s short and formal replies made him feel like an unyielding wall.

“What value does that low-born girl have?”

“Value… Probably as much as the Gelnor Plains. It’s not yet time to offend Jenaire.”

“That’s all?”

A hint of nervousness crept into Kyra’s voice.

A woman of low birth who suddenly appeared one day claiming to be the duchess—an eyesore, cutting down Eleanor’s pride in half.

Even Kyra had a rough idea of why her nephew hadn’t kicked her out.
She’d received reports that he visited her quite often after returning from campaigns or business trips.

At night, no less.

Kyra couldn’t understand it.

“She’s so thin, and not even particularly pretty…”

The Duke of Eleanor had no shortage of women.

Just half a year ago, the stack of marriage proposals in front of him exceeded thirty.
Even if he had chosen the noblest lady on the continent, no one would have objected.

But the Grand Duke had delayed marriage for quite a while.

Even during the seven-year war with Jenaire, when many vassals urged him to marry and secure an heir, he remained silent.

“That’s why I felt safe…”

Kyra’s well-manicured fingernail scratched at her knee.
But her face remained composed.

Rayan glanced at her briefly and smiled gently. He was always kind to Kyra.

She was his only surviving blood relative who had endured the tragic death of the former Duke and Duchess with him,
and she had taken charge of the household while he was away at war.
So, he trusted and cared for her deeply.

“I know what you’re worried about, Aunt. I plan to send her away when the time comes.”

“…And when will that be?”

“Well…”

His bright green eyes quietly reflected the woman sitting on the swing. Then, he let out a short laugh.

“When I get tired of her body, perhaps?”

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