Chapter 3: Broken Promises, Silent Wars

But if someone gets the sun and doesn’t cherish it, they’re just asking for trouble. I wouldn’t let her be hurt, not by anyone. I couldn’t stand the thought.

“That woman was placed in Lucas Jennings’s house.” Ben Carter stood by, head lowered. “But I heard Captain Jennings already explained to the Delacroix family, saying the woman has no family and is now kept as a housekeeper in the Jennings residence.” Ben’s voice was flat, but I caught the warning.

I crushed the glass in my hand. The shards bit into my skin, but I barely felt it. If he saved a woman with no kin to be a housekeeper, Emmy would surely bear the pain in silence. But how could that woman be content to be just a maid? How could Lucas possibly stay unmoved? That brat—don’t think this matter is over. Not by a long shot.

“Captain Jennings is young and capable; let him lead the National Guard at the border.” At the family board meeting, I spoke up to Harrison. My voice was calm, almost bored. I saw Harrison raise his brows from the head of the table. He knew me too well. He always did.

“What does Captain Jennings think?” I heard Harrison say, his voice completely impartial. The room was silent, all eyes on Lucas. I waited.

Lucas stepped out and gave the answer I’d long expected: “I won’t fail the mission!” He sounded so sure, so eager to prove himself. I almost pitied him. Almost.

Not long after, Lucas led the National Guard out of state, and I knew he brought that woman with him. When I learned this, I was so happy I drank all night. The whiskey burned. It was a sweet burn. I savored it.

Originally, I hadn’t planned to let him return, but since he brought that woman, I changed my mind. Sometimes, letting people dig their own graves is the best revenge. No need to dirty your own hands.

Once Lucas left, the little one and I returned to how we were before. Only, at some point, she began to like drinking on the rooftop. I’d find her up there, legs dangling over the edge, bottle in hand, eyes fixed on the stars. It scared me, but I never let her see. Not ever.

All I could do was go and carry her back to her room every time she got drunk. She’d cling to me, her breath warm against my neck, her words slurred and soft. Sometimes she laughed, sometimes she cried. Always, she broke my heart a little more.

After drinking, she would always pull me close and say all sorts of nonsense, tugging my sleeve and not letting me leave. Sometimes she’d laugh, sometimes she’d cry, always breaking my heart a little more. It was never easy.

She said, “Julian, I’ll definitely help you marry Quinn.” Her voice was stubborn, her grip fierce. I could feel it in my bones.

I patted her head and sighed, “Emmy, stop it. I won’t marry her…” Only you. The words caught in my throat, unspoken but true. I wished she could hear them anyway.

She said, “Julian, you really are an ass.” Her words were half-laugh, half-sob. As she spoke, she cried, making my heart twist. Such a delicate little one should be cherished at home. I wanted to keep her safe, always.

Thinking of this, a chill flashed in my eyes, and I felt Ben Carter needed to intervene at the border. I couldn’t let anyone, not even Lucas, threaten her happiness. Not while I was breathing.

Ben had never let me down, and this time was no exception. He handled things quietly, efficiently, leaving no trace behind. That’s why I trusted him.

“The woman is pregnant.” When Ben brought back this news, I was painting a portrait of the little one. The brush stilled in my hand. The paint drying mid-stroke. My mind spun.

Ever since Emmy fell for Lucas, I doubled the number of eyes in his house. Naturally, I knew what the daily herbal teas Lucas sent that woman were for. Nothing escaped me—not when it came to her. Not a single thing.

I put down my brush and looked up at the painting hanging across from me. The little one stood under the peach tree, smiling more brilliantly than the flowers, and I couldn’t help but smile too. The room smelled faintly of turpentine and spring. I breathed it in.

The letters Lucas sent to Emmy naturally passed through my hands first. If not for the fact that the letter still needed to reach her, I would have torn it to shreds. I read every word, searching for hidden meanings, for threats. I couldn’t help myself.

He wanted to keep that woman outside as a soldier’s widow—what a schemer. I had underestimated him. I folded the letter and sealed it carefully so no one could tell it had been opened. Nothing slipped by me.

“When Lucas Jennings comes back to town, I want the whole city to know that woman is carrying his child.” I handed the letter to Ben. My voice was cold, but my heart ached for Emmy. She deserved better.

The little one would probably be sad for a while. Thinking of this, my heart ached a bit. I hated to see her hurt, even when it was necessary. I told myself it was for the best.

“In the future, I’ll make it up to you double, all right?” I looked at the painting before me. The person in the painting smiled sweetly, as if agreeing to my idea. I promised myself I’d spend the rest of my life making her happy. No matter what.

Ben truly never let me down. Even though the Delacroix estate kept the news so well, he still let the little one find out. He was discreet, loyal to a fault. I owed him more than I could say.

“If you want anything, go to the vault and pick it out yourself.” I was truly happy, and Ben deserved a reward. The Grant vault was legendary—jewels, old coins, family heirlooms. It was the kind of place people whispered about.

I thought Ben would be happy to pick something, but he stood motionless at the side. He said, "I don’t want anything. I just hope you get to marry Miss Delacroix. Only then will you really be alive." That stopped me short. I’d never heard him say so much.

It was the first time I’d heard Ben say so much. Somewhat surprised, I looked up at him and saw his ears suddenly turn red. I asked him, “Did you fall for Lucy Yi?”

“I truly think you and Miss Delacroix are a perfect match!” As expected, he had fallen for Lucy Yi. Never mind, a reward is a reward. After marrying the little one, I’ll ask her to help him out. It was the least I could do.

Recently, my exiled second brother seemed restless, and some old family friends started acting up as well. Trouble always comes in waves. It’s never just one thing at a time.

I got busy. There were meetings, calls in the dead of night, coded messages exchanged in the study. The weight of the Grant legacy pressed on my shoulders. Some days it felt like too much. I kept going anyway.

When I finally finished, I heard that Lucas Jennings had secretly sent that woman he kept to the Delacroix estate, but she failed to win back the little one as he wished. I hadn’t worried about Emmy; there probably wasn’t anyone alive who could take advantage of her. She was tougher than she looked.

Sure enough, not long after, rumors spread that the pregnant woman Captain Jennings brought back had a big fight with the Delacroix girl in their mansion. When I heard this, I nearly burst out laughing. That little one wouldn’t let herself be bullied—not a chance.

“Miss Delacroix fell and hurt her back…” When Ben said this, he didn’t look at me. Naturally, he didn’t know that my face, just moments ago full of spring warmth, was now cold as ice. The change was instant.