TTCF 38

chapter 38

2023.09.07

When she thought about it, Rene often extended a helping hand in such unexpected ways. Lowell being surprised by him was nothing new. Still, she hadn’t imagined he would think ahead even in matters like this. Only then did Lowell’s tension loosen; she sank into the chair and closed her eyes.

Only once the sense of crisis had faded did other thoughts finally come rushing in.

“Nothing to worry about? That’s really… a relief. But are you okay, brother?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well, in the end, I really did damage Annette’s records.”

Living as Annette Martinek, she sometimes wondered if it was truly right to live while taking over another person’s life. Even if it had been Jurgen’s decision, even if Rene had accepted it, the thought weighed on her.

‘If something like that happened to me… it would mean a girl who looks like me walks in and starts living under my name.’

Everyone would call that girl Lowell, shower her with her family’s love, even erase her birthday—turning her into a false Lowell. Just the thought of it was unbearable.

“Still, to Rene she was a real family member… Is it really okay for me to do this…?”

“Annette, you’re my family too. Don’t you think so?”

“…Of course I think of you as family.”

Even if she couldn’t be his “real” family, she believed the bond they shared had meaning close enough to it. Lowell cut off her trailing words and answered. At that, the cat swayed its tail as if pleased.

“I feel the same. To protect the family I have left, I’ll use whatever I must. And now you’re as good as my only family.”

“…Right.”

Lowell wondered if she should tell Rene that his “only family” was going to die soon, but she stopped herself. Rene had said he was fine. What good would it do to cling to guilt? Such emotions would not aid her revenge in any way. She pulled herself together. Lately she had been far too sentimental, letting foolish thoughts creep in.

What mattered was only revenge.

That sharp, desperate feeling she’d had earlier, when she thought Peter might discover her identity, still burned in her stomach. If she had eaten anything at the tea party, she would surely have vomited from the tension.

‘Don’t forget.’

It was because of Peter that she had grown jealous of Claire. Because of him, she suffocated just from hearing someone mention a birthday. She stood here for one reason only: to take revenge on him.

Unconsciously, Lowell brushed her lips with her fingertips, then dropped her hand, shaking off the thoughts.

“I started with the urgent matter, but that’s not the real reason I asked to see you today.”

“Oh, I heard Debona’s cheek took quite a slap.”

Lowell glanced at the door. Before the crystal ball shattered, she had already sent Debona out of the room—not because it mattered if the maid overheard their talk, but to have her keep watch in case anyone approached.

She shifted her gaze back to the black cat, its face calm and composed. Beyond that, she knew Rene would not be the least bit surprised by her words.

“You slipped Pneuma into the emperor’s cup, Rene.”

“Oh dear. So you noticed.”

“You had Groteo do it, didn’t you?”

“And you already figured that much out.”

“It was too much to just brush off. Why did you do it?”

Her voice hardened. The cat tilted its head slightly.

“I thought you’d like it.”

“…What?”

“Don’t you want the emperor? I only wanted to help you.”

For a moment, Lowell was at a loss for words. Not for some other reason, but just to help her?

The cat’s voice was gentle, almost naïve.

“In the end, didn’t it help you?”

She couldn’t deny it. Thanks to Rene mixing in the Pneuma, she had been able to get closer to Peter. The outcome had, indeed, been useful. And Rene claimed that was all he intended.

It wasn’t the first time Rene had helped her in secret. Just earlier, she had benefited from him tampering with Annette Martinek’s birth records on his own. If she accepted that help gladly, yet rejected his act of slipping Pneuma to Peter, wasn’t that hypocrisy? Especially when she had received the benefit all the same…

“…Yes, it did help.”

Forcibly, Lowell cut off her confusion. Debating right and wrong was meaningless. This was a time to use whatever she could, to be selfish if need be.

“But if you’re going to do things like this, I’d like you to tell me first. It might be something I don’t want. Stop helping me without asking.”

“How cold.”

The cat’s eyes narrowed, almost like it was smiling. Its black shape began to dissolve like smoke, fading away. Just before it vanished completely, a low voice drifted out.

“Don’t worry, Annette. Nothing you don’t want will ever happen.”

Rene’s younger sister, Annette, might seem ruthless on the outside, but inside she was always soft.

He knew well that the reason she acted so harsh was only to hide that tenderness.

He himself had never once tried to be ruthless, yet everyone who knew him still called him cold.

“I thought she’d grown stronger lately… but she’s still soft, after all.”

“Did you just come back from meeting the young lady?”

At Rene’s murmur, Ruben, who stood nearby, asked quietly. Rene gave a small nod and rubbed his brow.

“It seems she had something urgent to deal with. I expected she would reach out sooner or later.”

He recalled Annette’s face from just now—flustered, cornered, unable to know what to do. A look he hadn’t seen in years. And the moment she gathered herself, the first thing she did was worry about him.

[Are you okay, brother?]

[After all, I really did ruin Annette’s records.]

Remembering her face, worried she might have hurt him, Rene couldn’t help but smile faintly.

“She’s so kind. Worrying about me, of all things.”

“What do you mean, sir?”

“She wondered if erasing the real Annette meant she had hurt me. Isn’t it funny?”

When the real Annette had never even opened her eyes once in her entire life.

Rene’s memory was unusually sharp. He remembered things from early childhood that most people could not. Clear as yesterday, he remembered the day he was first given a little sister.

[This is my sister?]

She had looked more like a crumpled doll than a person. At his parents’ urging, Rene had held her, but he could never feel affection.

They said he would surely adore her once she grew, but those words left him unmoved. And he had known, even then, that such a moment would never come.

Even when his mother later passed away, Rene had found no reason to shed tears.

But even aside from that, there had never been a single chance for him to play or laugh with his sister.

The reason was simple: Annette Martinek had been unconscious her entire life.

That was why she lived secluded in a villa, never at the mansion, why so little was known of her outside. If people learned that the daughter of the Martinek family had never opened her eyes by age three, it would become a dangerous weakness.

But Jurgen could not let go of hope. Perhaps, fearing that he might soon have to bury not only his wife but his daughter as well, he simply shut his eyes to reality.

So Annette lived in seclusion until she was thirteen. Rene would sometimes visit at Jurgen’s request, but he felt little.

[She looked like a crumpled doll as a child, but now she’s more like a fine porcelain doll.]

That was all he thought.

Aside from being trapped in eternal sleep, she was like any other child.

‘Though she didn’t even live to see past thirteen.’

So what feeling could he have for her? To him, the real Annette was not the one who closed her eyes without ever seeing the world. It was the living younger sister before him now.

One of the few things Rene was grateful to Jurgen for was giving him this Annette.

‘But to see her so shaken, it’s been a long time.’

All just because of something as trivial as mentioning a birthday—because she feared being found out as not the real Annette. Propping his chin lazily, Rene let out a soft hum and smiled.

“She really is fascinating, as always. My Annette.”

Repeating the words gave him a sensation, like a snowflake brushing his tongue—gone before he could even feel it. That fleeting, vanishing nature was especially like her. Snowflakes could not be held in the hand, nor simply watched quietly.

“I was going to let the birthday matter slide, but since she told me herself, there’s no need.”

Annette had told him not to interfere. But if he were the sort to obey meekly, he never would have let her go so easily in the first place.

Don’t worry, Annette.

You will have what you want.

The emperor’s love.
His despair.
And in the end—even death.