CH-063

Chapter 63: As If Someone Else's Voice Had Jumped Out of His Mouth

Time rewinds to after the granary fire incident was resolved.

Leslie returned to Roy's carriage behind.

Inside the carriage, he saw Lady Adelaire dressed in fine clothes. She should have been the proud red rose of the metropolis, even the act of opening her fan to hide her displeasure carried a wave of fragrance. It was said that Leslie's mother, Odora, possessed beauty that surpassed hers. However, for Leslie now, this was no different from a story.

Leslie's steps hesitated for a moment, but he still got into the carriage.

Leslie was always silent and gloomy, so naturally, no one expected him to speak. So, before the carriage door closed, Lady Adelaire spoke, "If I hadn't come to get you, were you planning never to return?"

The rebellious youngest son, who could be written into textbooks, just turned his head to look out of the carriage. This angle didn't allow him to see the church, but he also didn't want to sit directly opposite Lady Adelaire.

She wasn't close to Leslie—his closeness or lack thereof neither gave her satisfaction nor caused disgust.

If the person in front of her were an adult son, Adelaire certainly wouldn't bother with such a person, but Leslie wasn't even twelve yet. He was Odora's only child, and she herself was a first cousin to his mother.

Not to mention a child running away from home, even if the child lost a single hair, Adelaire didn't want to be pointed at behind her back.

But she was sure she couldn't bring Leslie back by herself.

So, she wrote a letter seeking help from Bishop Hugo of the Carson Diocese.

Bishop Hugo gave Adelaire some directions—

One was that in Leslie's current situation, even if he didn't respect his stepmother, he would still tend to follow his father's will and commands. He still had a desire to do well inside, otherwise, his bad reputation would have spread within the Savoy parish long ago.

If they wanted to find the child, they had to get Claude's help.

But Claude completely ignored the child's whereabouts, as if it didn't matter to him whether he lived or died. So, just borrowing people from Claude in the military district took Adelaire seven or eight days.

If Leslie were really in trouble, he would have been dead by now.

Lady Adelaire deeply doubted Leslie's parentage. This suspicion wasn't unfounded—just imagining her own sons, Cavan and Shemuel, on the streets was terrifying. Claude's indifference to this child was hardly how one would treat a flesh-and-blood son.

The carriage grew increasingly awkward amidst Leslie's silence.

Lady Adelaire couldn't help but recall another suggestion from Bishop Hugo.

He believed Leslie was naturally mature, calm in character, and not easily swayed by emotional pleas.

Adelaire could simply speak directly to him.

"Just as you don't know how to get along with him, he is also a stranger to you, unsure how to interact with you. You can tell him directly and establish a mode of interaction. Don't worry about him not understanding; he can perceive others' intentions, at most he just doesn't like to express himself."

"He isn't fundamentally malicious. Otherwise, given his intelligence, rumors of Lady Adelaire abusing her child in Steadham would have spread long ago."

However, understanding the logic was one thing.

In Lady Adelaire's view, Leslie's temper was as foul and cold as Claude's, never willing to suffer the slightest loss.

And she didn't want to be treated poorly either, nor was she willing to lower herself to appease him.

After a while, Lady Adelaire looked at Leslie, who sat motionless in the carriage, and frowned, "If you have any complaints, you can say them earlier. Whether you like it or not, I've already become your mother. We might as well be open and honest."

Only then did Leslie look up at her, his expression serious, "I don't actually dislike you..."

Lady Adelaire was stunned. She hadn't expected Leslie to say such a warm thing to her, and even the bone fan in her hand lowered from her face.

However, Leslie hadn't finished. He continued, "You are simply insignificant to me. Having any emotional reaction to you would be a waste of effort."

Lady Adelaire immediately tightened her grip on her bone fan, her hand trembling with anger.

"Is this the manners you should have towards a mother?!"

After spending so many days in the Savoy parish, Leslie had already emerged from the warm, utopian fantasies of family. Judging his current situation rationally, he felt he didn't need to dwell too much on these passersby in his life.

Leslie said, "Saying this shows you're not thinking clearly right now. Is what you want to gain from me the attachment of a child to its mother?"

This sentence was like cold water poured over Lady Adelaire's head.

She began to understand what Hugo meant by Leslie being precocious. Previously, he would still show emotion because of his father's coldness, but now, removing the emotional component, his rational judgment was so sharp it was disconcerting.

Lady Adelaire: "..."

However, Leslie didn't wait for her to speak, just continuing, "You just want the title of Duchess of Northumberland. We don't need to be bound by the title of mother and child. I don't need you, but you need me, isn't that right?"

Hearing the last sentence, Lady Adelaire sat up straight, as if the person in front of her wasn't a child, but a slippery, cold, sinister snake. That familiar tone was eerily reminiscent of someone she least wanted to recall.

She even felt a bit nauseous.

"Where did you learn to talk like that at such a young age?!" she exclaimed, her voice trembling with a mixture of shock and anger.

She gathered her skirts, as if afraid that even an inch of her dress might accidentally touch Leslie. "Did Bishop Hugo tell you? Or did someone from the Savoy church teach you?"

Lady Adelaire had sensed something unusual about her opponent when they were catching the culprit in the council hall. It was said that everything was done through divine inspiration, but then, locking horns with Claude afterward, showing such will—how could an ordinary person possess that?

"Whether you're trying to threaten or provoke," she said coldly, "I am your elder. You haven't shown the proper respect and manners. I can discipline you however I want."

As she spoke, Adelaire began to lose control. Her speech quickened, her gestures multiplied, as if trying to shake off something unclean. "Don't play games with me! I am capable of anything. Even your father has had a dagger pointed at him by me."

Her face grew paler and paler, as if she were about to go mad on the spot.

Leslie pursed his lips, staring at her, "...Calm down."

As soon as he said this, Adelaire noticed that her own hair had loosened, a strand of fringe falling onto her cheekbone, its slight tickle causing an itch.

She couldn't remember when she had stood up. When she sat back down on the carriage seat, her face showed a hint of dejection and weariness, as if she had just experienced a fierce battle with an enemy, unable to tell success from failure, only feeling drained and disgusted.

After a long silence, Lady Adelaire spoke, her eyes dimming slightly, her voice low, "Your father and I... this is just a marriage of convenience. I don't care about your remote farmland properties. I have plenty of money; buying a few dioceses would be easy. I came to Northumberland to live a simple life."

She paused, her tone turning cold, "If you want the position of the Duke's legitimate son, take it. At the end of the day, the title of Duke of Northumberland is worth less than an earl in the metropolis. So, stop bothering the three of us!"

She looked up, enunciating each word as a warning, "Do you understand?"

Leslie: "..."

"Once you're an adult, you can go wherever you want. I can't be bothered to care. But for these six years, behave yourself."

Compared to the tentative sarcasm, the thorns of this rose were finally fully exposed.

Leslie looked at her, his tone calm but firm, "Alright then. I want to attend the new grammar school Bishop Hugo is opening. I want to move back to the Savoy parish starting now. You live your lives in Steadham, and I'll live mine here. That shouldn't be considered bothering you, right?"

He had deliberated over these words, clearly stating his harmlessness to make it easier for Lady Adelaire to agree.

He was ninety-nine percent sure Lady Adelaire would agree.

The success rate had already been clearly calculated in his mind. As the last syllable faded, a trace of sweetness touched his tongue, like a honey-stealing ant crawling along a blood vessel towards his heart.

For Lady Adelaire, being able to speak so directly was the easiest.

If she had known earlier that this child didn't actually want to compete for love or power, there wouldn't have been so much trouble with tentative interactions.

Lady Adelaire was also more than happy to not have to care about Leslie, but she refused.

"Not now."

Leslie was very surprised, even unhappy, "Why?"

"You're coming back to Steadham with me."

"Why?"

Lady Adelaire said, "Your grandfather wants to see you. He should come in winter. You'll wait for him in Steadham."

"Can't you just refuse?"

Leslie replied coldly. He wasn't interested in these relatives who had never cared about him. Especially since he would have to wait for that person.

He would rather bicker with Finnian every day.

Lady Adelaire had previously thought Leslie had some aristocratic manners, but now she saw he was completely ignorant of basic social conventions, a country child who didn't care about etiquette or rules.

"What are you saying? Do you know who your grandfather is? Even Bishop Hugo has to bow to him. I've already made things clear. I don't want to meddle in your affairs, and you shouldn't cause trouble for me. Now that we understand this basic cooperation, I'm willing to give you the allowance you deserve, and life for the family will be relatively easy."

Leslie's ears perked up at the mention of an allowance.

He had never really considered money before; his past life always had things arranged for him.

Food, clothing, and expenses were all taken care of without a thought.

For him, the money in his box was just useless metal. But on this trip back to the Savoy parish, Leslie realized the house had nothing, not even a copper coin to buy bread.

Then the cold reality became concrete.

But this didn't matter much to Leslie either.

It was just that at this moment, hearing about an "allowance," Leslie suddenly thought of Father Alis. He was so poor he couldn't even afford to buy things, relying on his own makeshift efforts in the church.

Leslie didn't ask how much the allowance would be, but asked, "You want to give me an allowance?"

"As your mother, even if I can't give you affection, I can give you some money. But the amount depends on your behavior." Although Lady Adelaire didn't know why, she was surprised to find that Leslie actually liked money. "If you behave well, for example, by not causing me trouble in front of your grandfather, I'll give you 200-250 silver coins a month. But if you cause problems, 50 silver coins is the maximum."

Leslie only focused on the largest number, "What can 250 silver coins buy?"

"A few pastries, small toys, something like that?"

Lady Adelaire didn't really know what the money could buy either, but it was an allowance calculated by her finance officer, who said it wouldn't be too extravagant. But when she wanted to buy a nice dress, it cost several thousand silver coins.

Leslie scoffed at these little things, "250 silver coins can't buy anything significant, can it?"

"What do you want then?"

"Give me 1000 silver coins."

Lady Adelaire replied, "Fine."

The crisp, decisive reply inside the carriage made Roy's eyelids twitch.

This 1000 silver coins was equivalent to a full year's salary (after taxes) of a person with a decent job in Carson City. If used for basic living in the Savoy region, it could sustain life for at least three years.

Roy seriously suspected that his duke had married Lady Adelaire purely because he was attracted to her wealthy background.

But what did Young Master Leslie suddenly need money for?

Roy pondered as he rode his horse.

Before reaching a conclusion, Leslie's voice came out again, saying, "I left something at the manor. I want to get it before going back to Steadham. You can go ahead?" He wanted to ask Sheriff Ray to distribute the cartload of resin and tar he had bought to those in need. He had heard there was a lot of rain this year, so they could use it for waterproofing.

Lady Adelaire didn't find this suspicious.

After all, if he really liked money, he would naturally follow. And she had made it clear that she wouldn't let him manipulate her. If he were truly smart, he would cooperate with what she had proposed earlier—a mother-son performance for appearances. Then, he would have money and freedom in the future.

However, Lady Adelaire said, "We can go together."

How could her precious self endure traveling all night? She certainly needed to rest for a night at the Duke's manor.

By the time she arrived at the Savoy parish, someone had already come a week earlier to tidy up the house for her.

Leslie understood this easily and didn't object.

But when it was time to actually sleep, Leslie suddenly couldn't fall asleep.

Because he wanted so badly to stay in the Savoy parish, but what if someone there didn't want him to appear?

Wouldn't that make him look like he was imposing, being a one-sided fool?

"...I don't know what Father Alis thinks."

Leslie began to feel he had spoken too soon.

Acting on a whim, Leslie came back to the Savoy church.

The night was quite deep. Usually, at this time, Father Alis was asleep. But now the light in his room was still on. Just as Leslie was wondering whether he should leave, Father Alis walked out.

It was as if fate was waiting for him. Leslie hadn't known what fate was before, but now he felt it was all arranged.

"Did you leave something behind? Where is everyone else? Are you alone?" His voice seemed to have a special quality, the ending of its tone slightly sinking, like the serene afterglow of evening prayer bells, spreading from his eardrums towards his heart.

No one else cared about this; they just found him strange.

But Father Alis cared.

Leslie felt a warmth in his heart.

He remembered Sheriff Ray telling him long ago that if he had trouble, he could go to the priest. Father Alis had told him that even non-believers could come to him.

So, he mustered his courage, "I heard that even non-believers can ask the Lord for help... is that true?"

But was it too late?

Countless thoughts surged uncontrollably in Leslie's mind. These ideas rehearsed scenarios of the priest refusing, simultaneously comforting himself while stubbornly hoping.

He thought he would wait a long time, but Father Alis quickly stepped forward and said, "Come on in."

He spoke softly, like a stone falling into water.

Father Alis was dressed in a simple priest's robe, his back straight and slender, like moonlight—cold and distant.

Bishop Hugo said that while young, one should strive to catch a soft-hearted person.

Leslie's heart warmed, and he couldn't help but trot to catch up with his steps.

No sooner had he entered the church than Father Alis turned to look at him, his voice not loud but direct:

"What help do you need?"

Leslie was stunned, his mind blank for half a second.

He hadn't thought about what to say, his throat tightened, but he didn't want to just stand there.

He tried to think of what Finnian would do in this situation.

After a while, Leslie pursed his lips and spoke softly.

"My stepmother... she abuses me."

After saying this, he was startled, as if someone else's voice had jumped out of his mouth.