New World, New Life: I Became A Bigshot In The Ancient World
Chapter 61: BONDING OVER RIPPLES

Chapter 61: BONDING OVER RIPPLES

Almost a minute had passed when Aristia started to speak,

"You know... You shouldn’t let yourself be saddened about what isn’t your fault."

That turned the Marchioness attention to her. She didn’t need to think to know what Aristia was talking about.

She also didn’t care that the news had spread so far that even a child knew about it.

She felt like that was just what she desperately needed to hear. That it wasn’t her fault. Those were the words she had expected to hear and yet all she received was scorn and blame, even from women who should have tried to understand how she felt.

Who would have thought that a child would understand her better than than adults, and the infamous third princess at that? Tears filled her eyes, but she didn’t look away. She continued to listen to what the child had to say.

"Even though it is perfectly normal to feel betrayed by someone you love, you should not let yourself be consumed by negative thoughts and emotions," Aristia added.

Marchioness Charlotte froze.

’Someone you love’. It rang in her ears repeatedly. She had always loved her husband. That was the main reason why she was feeling betrayed.

"Always remember, some men are scum." Aristia added, also staring at the beautiful fishes in the pond. Some women were too, but she was making a point.

The Marchioness looked taken aback, then she burst into laughter, smiling genuinely for the first time in six months. What did the child know to say that? Nevertheless, her mood had greatly improved.

"You have quite a colorful vocabulary, Princess." She said, wiping a tear that had trailed down her face.

"Not necessarily," Aristia smiled as she picked up a pebble. She felt it in her palm, then she threw it into the water, watching it sink in disappointment. "Just when it calls for it."

The Marchioness stared at the child who was trying to get the pebble to hop in amusement, forgetting her misery for a moment. She picked up a pebble, and with a toss, it made contact with the water and bounced thrice, creating circular ripples in the water, and then sinking into the pond.

"Wow," Aristia said with awe.

Marchioness Charlotte laughed cheerily.

[What a beautiful sound.] Aristia thought, staring at the Marchioness in a daze.

Marchioness Charlotte noticed her gaze and her laughter stopped. However, a smile still remained on her face.

She picked up another pebble and tossed it into the pond. This time, it skipped four times before sinking into the pond.

Aristia picked up a pebble, determined to get it right. But she was bound to be disappointed as each of the pebbles always sank to the bottom of the pond.

The Marchioness stared at the little princess with interest. She was unusual. She was a child, one known as a tyrant, and yet here she was, out of all people, trying to cheer her up.

She couldn’t believe she had been comforted by a child with just a few words, but no matter what, she really appreciated her efforts to comfort her.

Aristia, after many unsuccessful attempts, gave up and turned to watch the Marchioness toss the pebbles into the water, only to find her staring at her with a grateful smile, seemingly in thought.

She smiled back, "We should return to the banquet hall. His majesty must have finished his meeting with the envoys by now."

"Ah, yes." The Marchioness nodded, getting up and offering her hand to Aristia to help her get up.

***

A little distance away from them, someone watched them sadly.

"Would she smile that way if we had a child together?"

It was Marquis George Oswalt. He had noticed his wife was missing from the banquet hall and was overcome with concern, so he came out to search for her. He had expected to find her in a garden; she loved gardens. He had just not expected her to be with the Grand Duke’s pampered daughter.

"That is the smile," he whispered to himself, staring fixedly at his wife who was smiling and laughing with the third princess. That was the smile that had been absent ever since he brought his son back six months ago.

’Six months,’ he thought.

That was how long it had been since they had a proper conversation, how long it had been since she had smiled genuinely, if she even smiled at all. Now, they lived like strangers in the same house.

The only person in his family who lived with him apart from his wife was his son, and he was also the only person that he spoke to.

’My son,’ That was a term he didn’t know he’d use before he found out about him six months ago.

He had never blamed the Marchioness for her inability to conceive or birth a child.

He also hadn’t expected the incident that led to his son. He remembered the day he found his son just as clearly as if it had happened the day before. He remembered it all so well.

...

The Marquis was in his carriage. He was on his way back from his week-long trip. As the carriage rolled through the streets, he heard a small commotion.

He was about to ignore it, but something stopped him.

"Stop the carriage!"

He ordered the coachman to stop the carriage and then got down to see what was going on, only to see some children surrounding something and laughing loudly. They were speaking in loud voices.

When he asked what was going on, they all ran away. He managed to catch a word one of them said.

"Your whore of a mother does not want you, and you don’t have a father. He probably didn’t want you either. You’re just an unwanted trash, bastard."

He shoved the thing they were surrounding and ran away.

Marquis George stood in his spot in shock. He couldn’t believe that those rotten, heartless words had just come out from the mouth of a child.

Now that the children had left, he saw the person they were surrounding.

It was a little figure standing with his head lowered. His trembling shoulders and sniffles told the Marquis that the little boy was sobbing. He went forward and touched the shoulder of the little boy, making the boy flinch.

"I am not going to hurt you," he assured gently, trying not to scare the four or five year old boy.

The child, on hearing a new and unfamiliar voice, became fearful but hearing how gentle the voice was, he relaxed. He looked up slowly at the stranger.

The Marquis took a step backward in shock when he saw the face looking up at him.

"You..." He was short on words to say. No, he couldn’t get a word out at all.

Recalling the harsh words one of the children had spoken, his mind whirled in shock as it went back to the unpleasant event that happened that day in the brothel.

But remembering that the boy was probably in pain from the other boy’s harsh shove, he pushed thoughts of the child’s origin to the back of his mind and stretched out his hand.

The child stared at him warily, then his face transformed into surprise at seeing someone who looked exactly like him.

"Where do you live?" The Marquis asked the boy and without thinking, he wordlessly pointed at a building in the distance.

The Brothel.

One that was also painfully familiar.

"Come with me, I will take you back." He gestured for the boy to follow him.

The boy hesitated, but followed in the end. They got into the carriage and George told the coachman the direction. They arrived at the Brothel in no time.

He realized he didn’t even know the name of the boy.

"What’s your name child?"

"Wade," The boy replied, his voice soft, low and timid.

It went silent between them after that. The boy followed him into the Brothel, his back bent timidly.

On sighting George, a middle aged woman quickly got over her surprise and came over to greet him.

"Welcome, Marquis." The owner and manager of the Brothel, Madam Estienne, bowed and smiled at him like he was a regular, even though it was only his second time visiting the Brothel.

He nodded without a word.

"I will arrange the best girls for you." Madam Estienne said as she led him toward one of the lounges.

She stopped at the sight of the boy trailing behind the Marquis.

"This boy, you had better not be disturbing the guests. I do not know why your mother does not keep you in check." She glared at him, making him cower and hide behind the marquis, subconsciously gripping his clothes in fear.

Madam Estienne smiled apologetically to the Marquis. "My apologies, my Lord. I will take care of him now."

She watched the Marquis closely, only to see him nod indifferently. She held in her sigh and not so gently seperated the boy’s hand from the marquis clothes.

She held his hand in a tight grip that probably hurt and took the boy away.

After Madam Estienne and the little boy, Wade, had left the lounge, the Marquis stood up quietly. He didn’t know whether the woman was just pretending or if she truly didn’t notice the similarities between himself and the boy.

He narrowed his eyes. The latter was unlikely unless she was blind. The boy was a full copy of himself. Something wasn’t right.

He started to follow the woman without making a sound. He saw her enter into a room and he hid behind a pillar. There was a little gap in the door as it wasn’t closed properly, so he could hear the conversation between them.

"Sana, how many times have I warned you to control your son? I do not want him annoying my guests." Marquis George heard Madam Estienne warn.

"I apologise, Madam. I will deal with him." The woman who was probably the one referred to as Sana, replied.

"Good. You had better because I will not be so lenient the next time." Madam Estienne huffed.

Then, she turned. "I have to go find Amber." Amber was the best and highly demanded girl in the Brothel. "We cannot keep an esteemed guest waiting." And she left after a last glare at the boy.

The Marquis waited some seconds before approaching the room. Now, he could see the inside of the room through the gap in the door.

"Ugh... almost ruined my makeup." Marquis George watched Sana complain as she applied rouge on her lips.

His steps almost faltered and his face darkened immediately. He knew her, she was the one from that day.

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