Beast in the Woods, Deep in the Night - Chapter 38.1

Chapter 38.1

It had been a long night, and he had had a few sips of alcohol, so it was natural for him to talk sentimentally. But Edgar was still Edgar.

“He cared for me to an awful degree.”

“…”

“I couldn’t and didn’t want to understand a father like him.”

Edgar took another sip of liquor, as if he had nothing more to say about his father.

Christine thought his recollection of his father was brief, but for Edgar, it explained everything.

He still couldn’t understand his father’s obsession with him. The same could be said of the moment he was presented with the box of cigars.

“Edgar. For a man to sleep, he needs things to help him with his deepest concerns. I hope this will help you one day when you are troubled or confused and unable to find an answer.”

“There are only three?”

“Haha, of course. You are the best of all Richards. There will be no more than three situations in your life that will distress you.”

His father, the late Grand Duke Richard, had a fairly accurate judgment. Whether it was because he had inherited Richard’s bloodline, which was designed to win any battle, or because it was just luck, Edgar had no troubles in the path ahead of him. He found a way in any situation and was superior to others.

That was why Edgar thought he might never be able to smoke the cigars he couldn’t throw away for some reason and had brought with him.

Until that day came.

“I smoked one at my father’s funeral, I suppose.”

“…”

“It was pretty far away, so I didn’t attend in person.”

When Edgar heard of his father’s death, he took a cigar and went to the duchy’s hinterland overlooking the funeral. It was the same place Karl and Iris had lived in hiding with their mother.

There, he lit a cigar and smoked it as his father had taught him. He burned a whole cigar in the pouring rain until he got dizzy, but he still couldn’t figure out the answer.

How could a man who gave his sixteen-year-old son a box of cigars filled with deep sorrow and smiled kindly, then slaughter chimeras with the family’s blood behind his back? What kind of thinking must he have gone through to believe that all of these actions were for the sake of the son he loved?

“… I shouldn’t have asked.”

Christine ended the conversation with regret as it seemed to have brought back some bad memories.

She knew a little about his father. Grand Duke Richard died of a nervous breakdown shortly after his son died in a carriage accident. The newspaper said that the grand duke’s death was the aftereffect of losing his beloved son.

‘When I read that article, I thought that they had a good relationship.’

In fact, the grand duke was famous for frequently bringing gifts for his son.

However, seeing the complex emotions on his face, Edgar didn’t seem to remember his relationship with his father as a very pleasant one. The reason he, who could have had everything, left the duchy might have been because of some incident related to his father.

With that thought in mind, she leaned on his shoulder without saying a word.

“There’s nothing you need to be sorry about,” Edgar said as if it was nothing. “If he was a father whose funeral I didn’t want to attend, that says it all.”

Edgar’s voice was infinitely cold when he mentioned his father. Nevertheless, the cigars he had received from his father were kept in the display cabinet. Even when he watched the funeral from a distance and smoked a cigar, he probably followed the method taught by his father.

Picturing the man smoking a cigar with the same complex expression he now had, Christine replied in a calmer voice.

“I don’t think that says it all. Who can explain a parent-child relationship so simply? Even if you didn’t attend the funeral… You went to a place where you could see it.”

“…”

“You must have smoked the cigar because your father’s death was weighing on your mind. Or am I wrong?”

It wasn’t that Christine’s words didn’t make sense, so instead of refuting them, Edgar took another sip of his drink. He was aware of it, but hearing it from someone else, it was a really sh*tty father-and-son relationship.

It would be nice if he could just cut him out of his life and hate him, but ridiculously, he couldn’t. Just like he couldn’t throw away a damned box of cigars even though he had abandoned the last name Richard.

Christine seemed to understand a little why his words and actions were different. No, she understood his behavior better than anyone.

“I think about it sometimes. I think that the good memories that parents leave for their children are so powerful that they sometimes forget all the hurt and pain that arises from the relationship between each other.”