Helmut: The Forsaken Child - H.F.C Chapter 228 (Part 1):
However, she turned away. Her movement was so smooth that it felt like the brief pause had been an illusion.
Surrounded by knights, the lady disappeared into the shade without hesitation.
It felt as though something had been dug out from inside him. A sense of regret stabbed at his heart.
‘There’s no way she saw me…right?’
She had merely glanced down at the spectators.
Many people here had been looking at her. Could she really have seen him clearly from this distance with normal eyesight?
Helmut was merely a boy with black hair who resembled her forsaken son, a boy she might have completely forgotten by now.
A joke was thrown from behind.
“Fell for her, didn’t you? She’s quite a beauty. But no matter how beautiful, a kid like you shouldn’t be coveting a married woman… Hik!”
The man who made the joke gasped as he met Helmut’s pitch-black pupils and leaned back, startled.
Helmut did not punish him. There was no point in staying here any longer.
He moved his gaze, took one last look at the shaded area, and then left the place.
“What was that…?”
The Duchess of Renosa mumbled as she looked back at the railing. Her mind was restless.
What she saw…
A worried expression appeared on the lady’s face. The maid sitting next to her offered words of comfort.
“You must be worried. It seems Her Highness bled a bit… but they say it’s a minor accident for a swordsmanship tournament. She’ll be fine after receiving treatment.”
“Ah, yes, you’re right.”
Lost in thought, she snapped back to her senses. Charlotte.
The Duchess of Renosa had come to see her daughter at this swordsmanship tournament.
While watching the match, Charlotte had suddenly bled… Although she seemed to have won, the surprised Duchess had rushed to the railing to look down.
And then, she felt a piercing gaze.
She had instinctively turned towards the gaze.
Though she was accustomed to being stared at, this kind of look was unfamiliar.
The other person seemed to be a boy, about Charlotte’s age.
Black hair, black eyes. The boy with familiar colors looked somehow familiar to her.
A sharp, fleeting pain shot through her like a flash.
But above all, his gaze…
‘He looks like him…’
The Duchess of Renosa, Margret, was startled by her own thoughts.
A distant memory, buried deep within the lake of her memories, surfaced. It was a memory buried very deep.
It was easy to forget since it wasn’t really a memory, but she hadn’t forgotten.
Because, to parents, children are like that.
Margret closed her eyes slowly and then opened them. Her breath, which had quickened momentarily, returned to normal.
‘There’s no way… He’s dead.’
The maid draped a shawl over her shoulders and suggested.
“You should go see Her Highness Charlotte. She’ll be waiting in the room prepared separately.”
“Ah, yes. I should… go see her.”
Margret calmed her mind again. Her worry for Charlotte resurfaced.
“Let’s go quickly.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
*
The door opened, and a beautiful lady stepped inside.
Seeing her, Charlotte hurriedly stood up from her seat.
“Mother.”
“Yes, Charlotte. Are you alright?”
“I’ve been treated, so I’m fine now.”
Although the wound on her cheek had already healed, Margret stroked the spot tenderly.
Charlotte was perfectly fine. She was a bit tired, but she felt good.
Her mother had come to see her, and she had secured her advancement to the second round.
But Margret’s expression did not soften.
“I knew swordsmanship tournaments were rough, but watching it in person is truly nerve-wracking. You could have died.”
“I won’t die. The stage is prepared for accidents.”
Charlotte smiled calmly.
Even so, one couldn’t immediately block a descending sword, but as long as she was breathing, she could be saved.
If one thought about such dangers and got scared, they couldn’t be a swordsman. Charlotte was a swordsman.
“It’s impressive that you swing your sword without blinking in such a place. I couldn’t even see how you moved properly.”
Her mother seemed to see Charlotte in a new light.
To her, Charlotte had just been a young daughter who knew how to handle a sword a bit.
“I’ve been handling swords since I was young. It’s familiar to me.”
“Still, be careful. If I had known this would happen, I wouldn’t have taught you the sword…”
Margret spoke wishfully. As a member of the Renosa duchy, Charlotte had to learn the sword.
Even Michael had learned a bit of swordsmanship. Though he had to stop because he fell ill.
“I like swords. You don’t need to worry. I’m careful enough not to get hurt.”
“You should be. I’m proud of you for showing such excellent performance as a representative of the academy, even though you’re only a first-year.”
“Thank you.”
Margret patted Charlotte’s shoulder. Charlotte felt good being recognized.
Even if her mother being here was Michael’s doing, it was still something.
She was still young and craved her mother’s attention.