After everyone had left, she returned to the bedside.
"Was it too noisy for you? Don't worry, I promise it's just for today. Feels better after shaving, doesn't it? Let me tidy up your hair too."
Lydia Miles took care of Gordon Chase with great tenderness. To her, this man wasn't just in a coma, nor was he a stranger.
He was the father of her child, and her benefactor.
If it hadn't been for his million-dollar help back then, her mother would have passed away, and she wouldn't have discovered her own origins or the ugly truth about the Brooks Family and Johnny Wade.
Even though what they had was merely a transaction, such a deal, at her most desperate time, wasn't something anyone would've offered.
After cleaning Gordon and dressing him in fresh clothes, Lydia faintly heard the sound of a harmonica coming from the open window.
The music was hauntingly beautiful, almost sorrowful, and it tugged at her heartstrings, making her nose tingle with emotion.
The Grand Palace Estate, known as the largest private residence in the empire, was akin to the homes of royalty.
Even the servants here lived without worry, so how could someone play such a mournful tune?
Driven by her familiarity with the layout of the Grand Palace, Lydia followed the sound of the harmonica, which led her to a lotus pond.
The harmonica abruptly stopped, followed by the voice of a young child.
"Drawing, drawing, all you do is draw. What are you even drawing? It's so ugly. And your harmonica playing's awful too. Anyone would think you're playing a funeral march for that living corpse."
Standing on the bridge over the lotus pond, Lydia could clearly see the scene not far away.
A chubby little boy kicked over the easel next to him and pointed at the boy holding a harmonica, hurling insults.
"Haha..."
Two male servants standing beside the chubby boy joined in the mocking laughter.
"Why doesn't this person in the painting have a face?" the chubby boy demanded, staring at the painting on the fallen easel, questioning the skinny boy.
The skinny boy stood silently, gripping his harmonica tightly, staring coldly at the chubby bully.
"Hey, mute boy, can't you speak? Are you deaf too? Can't even blink?" The chubby boy grabbed the skinny boy's arm, taunting, "Mute boy, living dead, little orphan, nobody wants you. Blow your harmonica, play a sad tune, paint, paint dead people!"
The skinny boy still said nothing, angrily shoving the chubby boy away before crouching down to retrieve his painting.
"Ah..." The chubby boy stumbled backward, caught off guard. Thankfully, the servants quickly stepped in to steady him, preventing a fall. "You little orphan, born but not raised, how dare you push me?"
He shook off the servants' hands and rushed toward the skinny boy, stomping hard on the boy's hand as he tried to pick up his painting.
"I'll crush you!"
The skinny boy's face remained stoic, and despite the pain, he only let out a muffled whimper, stubbornly refusing to cry out.
"I'll crush you, you little beast... You dare push me, dare fight back? I'll beat you like that living dead..."
The chubby boy's face twisted with rage, his exertion causing his cheeks to wobble with every stomp.
The skinny boy, determined to protect his painting, lay over the easel, enduring the blows and stomps from the bully.
"Stop it." Lydia Miles rushed over urgently.
Her cold reprimand startled the chubby boy, causing him to stop instinctively. "Who are you? Do you know who I am?" he sneered at Lydia Miles, sizing her up and confirming he had never seen her before. "How dare you yell at me! Are you looking for trouble?"
Lydia didn't know who the boy on the ground was, but her heart ached for such a small child being bullied.
She crouched down to pick him up, gently brushing the dirt off his clothes.
"Are you okay, little one? Why didn't you fight back when he hit you?" she asked, while continuing to clean him up.
But when she looked at the boy's face, her heart clenched painfully, and her calm expression turned into shock.
She raised her hand, slowly reaching for his cheek, but couldn't stop her fingers from trembling. Tears welled up in her eyes and slipped silently down her cheeks.
It was him!
He was the child living with the Gordons, her other son. He looked exactly like Elliot Miles, the one she'd raised in Los Angeles.
It felt like fate was finally being kind.
She hadn't even been at the Grand Palace for three hours, and she had already seen the son she hadn't laid eyes on in five years.
"Did he hurt you? Where are you hurt? Let me see…" Lydia asked softly, her voice full of emotion as she checked the boy's arm, lifting the sleeve of his shirt.
Underneath the white long sleeve, his arm was slender and long, and faint scars from old injuries were still visible.
There was a fresh scrape on his elbow from falling.
"Why do you have so many injuries, child? Aren't you the young master of the Gordon family?" Lydia had thought that her children, living in a place like the Grand Palace, would be well cared for, at least better than how she had been.
But now she realized she was wrong.
"Hey, who are you, lady? Crying like a banshee," the chubby boy mocked Lydia. "Let go of that little mute and make him kneel to apologize to me, or this won't be over."
After speaking, he pointed directly at Lydia Miles. "You and your son should kneel and apologize to me."
Lydia stood up, gently holding her precious son's small, fragile hand, and stared coldly at the chubby boy. "And what if we refuse to kneel and apologize?" she asked, her voice like ice.
"Heh, did you hear that? Someone dares to talk back to me at the Grand Palace!" the chubby boy said, even more arrogantly now.
"Ha… which family are you from? Don't you know who he is?" one of the servants stepped forward, sneering. "He's the beloved son of the Gordon head family, the apple of the Master and Madam's eye."
"Even if you're a lady from another family or the new second young mistress, you still have to show respect to the young master."
The head family again? Lydia had just dealt with a daughter from the head family, and now this spoiled, chubby son showed up. It was like she was destined to be at odds with them.
"Don't worry, I'll take you away from here," Lydia whispered gently to her son.
"You want to leave? Not until you kneel—Ah!" A servant, seeing Lydia and her son trying to leave, rushed at her to strike.
But Lydia moved fast, sidestepping the blow and slamming her foot into his knee, forcing the servant to drop and kneel in front of her and her child.
Another servant charged in, but Lydia picked up a stone from the ground and struck him clean in the face.
As he clutched his nose in pain, she kicked him hard, sending him flying into the nearby lotus pond.