🔊 TTS Settings
Chapter 10
They were clearly different, yet strangely alike.
Odd as it sounded, that was truly how it felt.
The twins resembled each other so much that, at first glance, the only way to tell them apart was by the length of their hair.
“Are you really okay? Does it hurt a lot? Are you badly hurt? If so, I’m really sorry… Actually, sorry even if you’re not…”
“I just fell. It’s nothing serious, so stop apologizing already.”
Fortunately—or unfortunately—their personalities were different.
This constant fidgeting, the anxious glancing… it wasn’t like Adrien at all.
The real Adrien didn’t even care how much her brother was trembling.
Eventually, Reed, who had been pacing around the room, rushed out saying he’d bring something to drink.
C’mon, you could’ve just called a maid.
But Cyril didn’t bother stopping him.
“What are you doing?”
“This helps.”
Adrien answered confidently as she quietly kneaded Cyril’s hand.
With her small hands, she pressed carefully but firmly.
Now that he thought about it, she’d been doing that ever since he’d been lying on the floor earlier.
The touch reminded Cyril of a dream he once had.
Had he dreamed some kind of premonition?
The thought irritated him—like Adrien was some important figure in his life.
Even so, Cyril stayed silent. The sincerity in her little hands… wasn’t unpleasant.
“It must’ve hurt. I’m sorry.”
Her whisper grew softer and softer toward the end.
You beat me with a wooden practice sword and now you’re—what even…
Cyril had been ready to brush off her apology, but then froze.
“I just wanted to peek quietly. I thought you might wake up if we opened the door… But then we saw light inside, so Reed and I just wanted to look for a moment…”
Adrien, who usually blinked out of habit, was now keeping her eyes stubbornly open.
Cyril realized only then that it was because she was holding back tears.
Her large eyes shimmered with moisture. If she blinked once, they’d spill over—
She was resisting with that familiar Adrien-like stubbornness.
Truthfully, Cyril wasn’t that upset at the twins. There wasn’t much to blame them for.
The real problem was him.
He’d always lived close to death, believed in ghosts, believed one might come to take him away any day…
So after just seeing the twins reflected in the window—
He fainted.
Fainted.
Looking back objectively, Cyril was a little stunned.
What an utterly ridiculous situation.
Of course, if he wanted to justify himself, there was plenty to say.
Two identical faces suddenly appearing in the dark, lit only halfway by a lamp from the side…
Two half-illuminated identical faces floating in the darkness—
It would’ve been stranger not to be scared.
“I’m sleepy.”
But he didn’t want to tell all this to Adrien. Saying it out loud felt pathetic, and that hurt his pride.
So Cyril feigned ignorance and steered the conversation away, exaggerating a yawn.
Normally, he would never—whether it was Adrien or anyone else—do something so undignified in front of another person.
It was very much on purpose.
“Adrien, aren’t you sleepy too?”
“No?”
Despite her answer, Adrien immediately let out a yawn, as if it were contagious. Even she looked confused about why she did it.
As her small mouth closed again, a single tear rolled down her cheek.
Cyril casually wiped it away.
“Go to bed now. I’m going to sleep too.”
He pulled his hand free and gently pushed Adrien away.
Adrien blinked again—no sign she’d been crying—and then gave a small smile.
Crying one second, smiling the next…
She had plenty to cry about, and plenty to smile about.
Cyril thought cynically… and then found himself smiling along anyway.
Somehow, Adrien did look better smiling.
The twins’ personalities could not have been more different.
Reed was the bookworm whose clothes always smelled like paper, whereas Adrien couldn’t stand staying in one place for long.
Cyril’s temperament fell somewhere in the middle, but in practice he spent most of his time with Adrien.
“Cyril!”
“I’m coming out.”
As Cyril stepped out of his room, dressed comfortably, Adrien—who had been crouching—sprang to her feet.
“…”
“What?”
What, indeed.
Those crisp white shorts, ending just below the knee, were obviously new—and judging by the fact they were pants, they were certainly not Adrien’s.
“I borrowed Reed’s clothes.”
Seeing Cyril’s stare, Adrien confessed.
Her tone was bold, but the way her hand drifted to her ear suggested she was lying.
“Does Reed know?”
“He’ll find out tomorrow.”
Of course.
That little habit always showed up when she lied, though she seemed blissfully unaware of it.
Cyril vowed never to point it out for the rest of his life.
“Wow, you sure ‘borrowed’ them.”
He snorted, but in truth Reed wouldn’t care at all.
After a year living close to them, Cyril could guarantee it.
Whether Lady Parte, the twins’ mother, would feel the same tomorrow was another matter.
At any rate, Adrien looked extremely comfortable. Her curly hair was tied up high—she was clearly planning to run around as much as possible.
That part of her, Cyril liked.
Roaming outside with Adrien always reminded him how much stronger he’d become.
“Adrien.”
Staring at her round forehead, a thought popped into Cyril’s mind.
Something about their height… felt more similar than before.
“Hm?”
“Never mind.”
If he mentioned it, Adrien would drag him to the tree outside right now to measure their heights.
On that tree were numerous little scratched lines—Adrien’s marks always above Cyril’s.
He didn’t want to suffer another defeat because of some vague feeling.
“Let’s go to Paradise Mountain today!”
Adrien perked up instantly, shouting brightly.
Since the Casinel territory sat against the border mountain range, the land was ringed by mountains of all sizes—
from little hills to massive peaks.
The two usually climbed the small hill closest to Casinel Castle.
Calling it a “mountain” was generous—it was more of a hill.
But it had still taken them months to conquer it.
Mostly because of Cyril.
“Paradise? The Count allowed it?”
“Yup. He said it’ll be quiet for a while.”
Her hands looked normal—meaning she wasn’t lying.
If the cautious Count had given permission so easily, he must have sent knights ahead to sweep the area clean.
He cherished Adrien, after all.
Another mountain…
Cyril nodded slowly, pretending to be indifferent, but he was thrilled.
He wouldn’t climb too high, of course—but still, going somewhere new?
For Cyril, who had once only seen the world through his bedroom window, even that felt like a dream.
No—simply being able to go outside so naturally was like a dream.
The many things unimaginable in Tejar were everyday life in Casinel.
And if he had to name the person who made that dream possible—
Cyril really hated to admit it—
it was Adrien.
His petty desire to beat her had sparked the will to survive.
So it wasn’t entirely wrong.
“Cyril! I’ll go first!”
“Hey—wait!”
The “most valuable contributor” shouted energetically and dashed ahead.
Cyril hurried after her, who had already run far ahead.
His steps struck the ground with a strength he had never had before.
“Come in.”
Knock knock.
At the light knock, Cyril answered.
It was obviously Adrien. There was no need to ask.
For some time, she had been barging in as if his room were her own—but recently she’d started knocking again.
Maybe the Count scolded her, or Lady Parte lectured her.
Whatever the reason, Cyril found the change pleasant.
Well, she was eight now. About time she grew up a little.
Cyril felt oddly proud—Adrien is actually maturing.
“Cyril!”
“I said come in.”
“Open the door for me!”
If she was going to change, why couldn’t that irritating habit change too?
His peaceful reading time interrupted, Cyril frowned.
“You have hands to knock, but you can’t open the—”
“Here! A present.”
Before he even finished, a soft waft of floral scent washed over him.
Before he could process what it was, Adrien thrust something into his arms.
Just like that, Cyril found himself holding a huge bundle of yellow flowers.
They were coreopsis—the kind easily found on the mountain behind the castle at this warm time of year.
“…”
No wonder she couldn’t open the door.
The unbound bundle was so large he had to spread both arms wide to hold it.
Honestly, the fact she managed to knock at all was surprising.
Cyril looked down at the flowers Adrien had shoved into his arms.
Yellow. Bright yellow. Just yellow flowers.
Too yellow.
So he had no idea why she was giving them to him.
“I thought of you, so I brought them. Pretty, right?”
When he stared questioningly, Adrien grinned—clearly expecting him to agree.
But Cyril focused on her words instead.
She thought of me… because of these flowers? Why?
“…Why would these make you think of me?”
“Why? Because they’re the same color as your eyes. They’re both yellow!”
The reason was so simple it made all his thinking feel pointless.
My eyes are yellow, the flowers are yellow—so she thought of me.
“Who gives flowers to a boy?”
“You’re not a boy. You’re Cyril.”
“You can’t even show this to anyone…”
Cyril muttered under his breath.
Not that he planned to show anyone anyway.
What was the point of proving to Adrien that he was a “boy”?
“What do you want to show?”
“I’ve noticed for a while—your hearing is excellent.”
“Isn’t excellent hearing a good thing?”
“How am I supposed to talk to you like this…”
What would it feel like to live with such pure, uncomplicated cheerfulness?
Sometimes Cyril had the urge to peek inside Adrien’s head.
It was probably just a blank page.
Or maybe an empty field stretching endlessly.
But at least she seemed happy, so it didn’t matter.
