Obviously, It's My Child - Chapter 231
When Horst was mentioned as the heir, honestly, the thing that made him happiest was the realization that Cornelia would now become his fiance.
He thought of himself as a petty and cowardly man. Taking the heirship from Hermann wasn’t his decision, and he wanted to argue that he hadn’t failed.
However, considering that his marriage to Cornelia was tied to it, he wanted to hold onto the position even if it meant resorting to underhanded tactics.
But all of those thoughts were meaningless. No matter who wanted whom, the marriage had already taken place.
Even if he were to return Ludendorff to Hermann now, Cornelia would not be a part of it. Most importantly, the child in her womb was his, even if the passion was one-sided.
Yet, these wrong thoughts ransacked his mind. Even after drinking a warm, sweet beverage it didn’t comfort the bitter feelings inside him.
“So, what’s the matter?”
Hermann asked again.
Horst couldn’t stop asking himself the question in his mind, a question he shouldn’t ask.
What do you think of Cornelia?
But some suspicions are better left unsaid. There’s no need to stir up the waters at the bottom of the pond.
The truth was, he shouldn’t be thinking about Cornelia right now. He was the heir to Ludendorff, and what mattered now was consolidating control over the family.
He took another sip of the glühwein. The cup had somehow emptied without him noticing.
* * *
The funeral, attended only by family and select representatives among the vassals, was quiet and modest. Even distant relatives had not been informed. Some didn’t believe he had died from drug abuse.
The Marquis’s reputation had been pushed to the brink. Many thought he had taken his own life. Even though he wasn’t about to lose his lordship immediately, it was disgraceful that his older sister, who had long been away from the house, had to resolve things for him again.
But those who had known the Marquis longer didn’t think so.
“It must’ve been a mistake.”
Old Sir Fuchs murmured as he looked down at the coffin being lowered into the grave.
“The Marquis would never take his own life.”
He was someone who didn’t know how to take responsibility. Even if he felt shame and regret toward his older sister, it wouldn’t have been enough to drive him to suicide.
It was likely that, overcome with anger, he resorted to drugs as an escape from reality, and it ended in an accident.
The Marchioness’s thoughts were different.
She looked at Horst and said carefully.
“I still don’t believe it. I don’t think the Marquis was a strong-willed man, but he’d never used sleeping pills or sedatives. He wouldn’t have killed himself for the sake of his honor either.”
As she spoke, she subtly glanced toward Hermann.
Even dressed in mourning attire, Hermann was as striking and elegant as ever.
In Rommel, showing sorrow was never an emotion to be displayed, and so he appeared more noble than cold.
His vassals must have felt the same. Everyone looked at him, wanting to shake his hand.
The Marchioness seemed to feel threatened by this.
Horst whispered softly to the Marchioness.
“You shouldn’t say such things. Mother.”
“But…”
“It’s baseless.”
Horst couldn’t emotionally agree with his mother’s words, as he knew the owner of the incense burner. Perhaps Augusta had shared the truth with him as a test, to make Hermann the scapegoat and turn him into the sinner. That way, she could again place him under her control.
But he couldn’t do that.
The rightful heir to this position was Hermann. That thought still haunted him.
The funeral was over. Now, he had to greet the few remaining attendees and send them off.
“Dear.”
At that moment, Cornelia gently took his hand. Horst, momentarily forgetting all his thoughts, looked down at Cornelia.
“I’ll stay here. You should go inside and rest.”
“Cornelia…”
“You look tired.”
“No, but…”
At that moment, Hermann approached.
“Horst.”
“Brother.”
Hermann exchanged a glance with Horst before addressing Cornelia first.
“Cornelia, why don’t you go inside and rest? You’ve been standing for so long.”
Hermann gave a subtle nod, urging her to agree quickly. Horst nodded.
“I need to discuss things with Brother and take care of some matters. You go inside and rest first.”
“Actually, it would be better if you took her inside.”
In truth, what Horst needed most right now was just that.
But staying behind and not seeing the funeral through felt like abandoning his duties as the chief mourner. Hermann might have meant to say this on purpose, but Horst couldn’t help but nod.
If he looked so unwell that it worried Cornelia, staying would serve no purpose.
He wrapped his arm around Cornelia’s shoulder and led her out of the cemetery. There was a carriage that Hermann had arranged.
Once in the carriage, Cornelia cupped his cheek with both hands.
“Your eyes are bloodshot. Your skin around your eyes is dark too.”
“I must look terrible. Especially when compared to Brother.”
“Why would you say that?”
Horst regretted his words as soon as he said them and lowered his head bitterly.
Still, he couldn’t bring himself to pull her hands away, so he didn’t fully hide his expression.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For you…”
He forced his choked throat to continue.
“When you married me, you must have thought that Marquisate Ludendorff would achieve much more… much more honor and glory.”
Cornelia looked at him with surprised wide eyes.
“Sure, Father will be disappointed, but I think he’s already disappointed a lot.”
“Yes…”
“I just hope there won’t be more hardships to come.”
After saying that, Cornelia carefully moved and sat next to him in the small carriage.
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