Guidelines for the Perfect Goodbye - Chapter 247

From a very young age, Christian had never been able to understand his mother.

What was she so sad about?

What made her feel so unfortunate?

She always lived immersed in inexplicable sorrow. Self-pity was her default, and it led her to disparage others. At one point, she had even considered everyone around her to be demons sent to torment her.

Christian couldn’t comprehend her endless grief.

His father’s infidelity? So what? If you’ve already gained wealth, honor, and power, shouldn’t you at least resign yourself to sacrificing a man’s fidelity with grace?

Christian didn’t approve of his father going as far as having an illegitimate child. That, he felt, was careless.

His father hadn’t been thorough. A fleeting mistake had foolishly burdened him with unnecessary responsibility and guilt.

And yet, Christian didn’t feel any particular hatred toward the illegitimate child’s existence.

Two people born under the same father, living completely opposite lives.

One, the sole heir of a ducal family, guaranteed to inherit the title and nobility.

The other? The son of an unwed mother. The grandson of a nouveau riche commoner. A bastard unrecognized by his father.

While Christian enjoyed a comfortable life in the ducal household, the other became a naval officer. He carved out a path of thorns, battling sea monsters and enduring bloody battles on the ocean.

So what? Was such a life so admirable? It wasn’t a choice—it was a necessity.

No matter how much wealth a commoner amasses, they remain a commoner. Christian’s family held so much power that they could confiscate such wealth in an instant.

That man must have been desperate to keep his trading company afloat, at least during his generation. To that end, he must have dreamed of becoming a noble. It was obvious without even asking.

‘Logan Harper, if you want to become a noble, you have to put in that kind of effort. You have to risk your life just to barely stand on the same level as me!’

Christian sneered inwardly.

‘I was born a noble. I’ve never needed to make an effort. Even if I do nothing, I have warm, plentiful meals laid before me. I don’t have to compete with siblings to inherit the dukedom—it will come to me in due time.’

What was there in such a life to feel unhappy about?

‘Everything exists so perfectly for my benefit!’

Because of this, Christian was absolutely certain:

I am incredibly lucky. I’m one of those who are born under divine favor.

Yes, he was fortunate.

Because he was lucky, he obtained things easily and grew tired of them just as easily. It was also why, unlike his grandmother, he never developed a gambling addiction.

His good fortune ensured that he won most games he played. Money, which he didn’t even need, seemed to flow to him so effortlessly that it became a nuisance.

Yes, even games were rigged in his favor—a stage set by God to prove His love for him.

“Again.”

Christian threw his cards onto the floor. The pile of cards, with clovers, spades, and hearts, scattered across the wooden boards.

No pair.

No matter how many times he played, the result was the same.

Every hand he got was trash, no matter how he tried to combine the cards.

‘This is strange. It was going so well in the beginning.’

Christian thought back, trying to figure out what had gone wrong.

A few days ago, a knight he was vaguely acquainted with had persistently struck up conversation with him.

“Sir Christian, are you free today?”

Christian always brushed him off, claiming he was busy. But the knight didn’t give up and continued to coax him.

“I’ve heard there’s a singer at the Greenhouse Café who’s quite stunning.”

“I’m not interested in women of unknown origins.”

“Is that so? I was hoping to enjoy the show with you. The woman has hair as striking as the second daughter of Lasphilla—a unique shade of deep purple. And her face is equally beautiful.”

“…Similar to Miss Cecilia, you say?”

Cecilia was one of the few women he had failed to win over completely. The lingering regret was undeniable.

Of course, just because someone had the same hair color didn’t mean he intended to use her as a substitute. After all, she was a woman of unknown origins.

Still, seeing her once wouldn’t hurt.

So, Christian followed the knight to the café.

The woman was certainly beautiful. But her hair? It was fake—a cheap wig, obvious at a glance.

“You called me here for this? You’ve ruined my mood.”

“I deeply apologize. I only heard rumors and didn’t expect it to be a wig.”

“Fine. Since I’m here, I might as well have a drink before I leave.”

“In that case, why not enjoy some other entertainment while you’re here?”

With that, the knight led Christian to the lower floor.

And there, the card game began.